"I want to colour my hair red!" & "I want to get a tattoo" were two status messages that I've had on and off on gtalk for a long while now.
To me, they used to depict extreme things I thought I'd never do. Thought I'd never have the courage to do.
The red hair was definitely easier, there was no pain involved. And I know that the hair will eventually grow out. As much as I absolutely love it, I still wonder (3 months into having it) how I brought myself to just do it.
The tattoo... a lot more complex. I've always wanted a tattoo...always thinking I'll never get it, considering how scared I am of needles. Tattoos are supposed to be big decisions. Life decisions. I kinda knew a butterfly would be involved... but nothing more concrete. And I didn't want something as common as a butterfly anyway.
Recently I'd gone on a trip where two of my girlfriends had tattoos. The one who had gotten it more recently said that it hadn't hurt at all. Just a tickle. This was the major push to my just going for it.
It was valentine's day... I didn't get even the customary flowers I got from my dad, as he was out of town. So was my sister. And the biggest deal I had going was going to work in sad blue uniform. The thought crept in that morning. Something for a lifetime... a celebration of love.
With very negligible work, I spent a lot of time that morning planning and designing the tattoo. I told no one, lest I'm unable to go through with it in the end.
I took permission of 2 hours from work that evening. Leaving with a smile, as everyone made the cliched guess that I had "special" plans. I affirmed the same with a sly smile, and off I went. I did make plans to meet a friend of mine later that evening, so it wasn't a totally empty day.
I made an appointment at the tattoo parlour... thoughts focused on anything but that needly that will bore into my skin and stain it with ink.
I had many prints of my design. The website of the parlour had mentioned that customized designs would not be done on the same day. I wondered if I would make it back another day, if the adrenalin rush of that day drained away. I went there, 5 minutes late for my appointment...wondering again if that would mean they won't have time for me that day. They did... and they would be able to do customised designa on the same day as well. Oh well, keep with the rush.
We had a small discussion, where minor changes to the design were made. And we were set to go.
It didn't hurt too bad. It didn't tickle... but it didn't hurt too bad.
It took about an hour... during which the tattoo artist told me quite a bit about himself. He was amused at why I'm getting a tattoo on valentine's day, and I told him about my design.
He'd quoted about 4.5 k in the beginning. He took just 3. "It's Valentine's day after all"
The bird is ofcourse me. The butterfly wings along the wings are for my mum. Helping me stay afloat...always a part of me. The hand just below is my dad's hand. He who let me go, albeit reluctantly. He who helped me take off, and will always be there to catch me if I fall. Love I know that will last for ever.
It's simple... but it's what I know I would like to have for the rest of my life.
The girl friend of mine with a tattoo from a while back mentioned that it took her a long time to get used to the idea that she had a tattoo. Sometimes she wished she hadn't done it.
For me, it felt like the most natural thing. I haven't had it for long, but it feels like it's been mine forever. It's beneath my left collar bone ~ just above my heart ~ so I can see it. And everytime I do, it makes me happy :)
Love pure and simple is easy and natural... it's like a bird which has special wings to fly higher. A bird that knows there's a hand waiting to safely catch it, if it can't. A bird that was taught to fly by the best. A bird that was loved :)
