My tattoo got me my best friend

I had my tattoo on an impulse. I was skeptical and was just “Checking out” designs when I suddenly came across the one. It seemed to fit in so perfectly with my thoughts and story of my life that I decided to go for it instantly.

A little girl, fear reflecting in her eyes, leaving her home to achieve the best of the world at a very early stage was now being etched on my back. Half-way through the tattoo, my tattoo artist and I got talking.

He told me about sketches and inspirations, various websites to designs and client suggestion. I then asked him if he designed the tattoo I was getting. He replied that he sketched it but he had seen that tattoo before, if only he could remember where. He then went on telling about all he remembers that it was on someone’s leg and was much smaller. He explained how it was one of his favorite tattoo designs in his entire career.

His idea about getting it on leg got me thinking. It sounded nice and exciting. However, I was pretty happy with my tattoo too. But damn! I was nervous.

My parents knew nothing about my new tattoo. I was scared to break the news. One evening I showed it to my cousin, and she agreed that the hell will break loose if anyone in the family got to know about it. My father was somewhat cool, but I wondered how my mother would react. She was the strict one and I had remained somewhat aloof ever since I had been a teen.

Months passed by and I became comfortable with the ink on my skin until one day when I had to wear a sari.

My mother was around and she was standing there to help me wrap those six yards in a presentable way. It was the moment of no choice. I mumbled, “Mom, I have to show you something.” And slowly turned my back towards her and pulled my top up to reveal the tattoo.

I stayed like that for a minute for her to absorb what could be a shocking revelation and then slowly turned to face the brunt. But I was amazed. There she stood, with amusing look on her face and a slight smile.

Few moments later, she pulled her sari up and reveled a tattoo, same design, but much smaller than mine.

Later, my mother showed me the original sketch and told the story of the tattoo and her life. My mother and I have been best friends since then.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.