Dancing with the Dolphin

They say you shouldn’t get a tattoo, till it holds deep significance for you. My dolphin is an ode to the sea, to life, to the life I have seen under the sea, to my brother who is dancing among the dolphins, to happiness, freedom and love!

So how is the experience of getting a tattoo done? Not really as exotic as you would hope. My tattoo came not in some exotic shack in Goa or Ibiza, but in a tattoo parlour called Mike’s Place. Taking along a friend for comfort, hand holding, help in negotiation and courage, we reached there yesterday for a 5:30 pm appointment. In an extremely unusual and uncanny situation, a quiet balding man, sat in front of two sophisticated computers, and detailed out the intricacies of the sketches and the trade. The first half an hour was spent in commonplace decisions, which dolphin, which angle, which colour, how many square inches of skin would I give up to the needle and finally how much would it cost.

Once the exact angle and stencil was ready, a sweet gentle long haired guy led me to an antiseptic room with a quiet blue bed, very scary looking needles and a small TV. Believe me once you are lying down on that bed, and the stencil has been traced down on your skin, you are slowly reaching the point of no return. This is a deep commitment you are making. The tattoo artist asked me if I wanted to finally go ahead with it. Sometimes you develop a kinship with people, and this person had such a gentle look in his eyes, that I thought, “Ok, he is ok!”, and nodded my head.

So this is how it goes:

“May I please start?”, asks dreadlocks, and I look at my friend, who is looking at me nervously, not knowing what to say, and then slowly I nod my head.

The first touch of the needle is a gentle buzz, like a dipping laser light on my skin. And then the first flash of pain comes up. I gasp and then find, its not as bad as I thought it would be. So I nod at him and say, “Fine, I am fine, please go ahead.” And the etching starts. I refuse to look down at the needle piercing my skin. That’s because I am a visual person and when I look at things they start having more meaning for me. So I hold my friend’s hand tightly, and let him have a free hand on the canvas of my skin. The pain is intense at times, as exquisite tendrils of it vibrate through the ankle bone, and my nerve endings, sometimes it is a small nip and a buzz, sometimes it takes waves of it that shudder through me.

In the meantime my friend and I discuss shopping, clothes, men, a butterfly tattoo she would like to get done on her shoulder. Ironically the tattoo on the nakle bone is the most painful because the skin is the thinnest there. Like someone could have told me this earlier!

In the end, before I know it, the tattoo is over and there is a dolphin dancing on my ankle bone. And I do hope she will dance forever, at least till the ankle is there!
My husband, my son and mother are still recovering, a friend has threatened to go get a shark tattoo on an undisclosed location just to bug me, while some others are, “You know, we never thought of you as a tattoo person.” Well, like I read in some ancient temple tome, “You are endless galaxies and you have seen but one star!”