Hide & Shriek

But such thoughts faded away as D-day arrived at the swanky Nail Bar in Bandra, Mumbai. While apprehensive about the actual process, I was also eager to meet tattoo artiste Al Alva from Goa—the man who was going to leave an indelible mark on me.

Pony-tailed Al greeted me with a broad smile at the Bar, which was filled with posters of tattooed folk. My nervousness had peaked and all I could say was “Hi, I’m scared”.

First, I had to pick the design, and we flipped through a book—Al was keen on a butterfly; I wanted something happy and peaceful.

The suggestions I got from pals included a heart, the devil, lady bugs, abstract stuff and a lizard—the last was a positive no-no.

I was looking for something with character, and a dolphin leaping out of the waves fit the bill. Yes, it had to be that, and on my waist!

And so we started. Al drew the design with a pen and outlined the dolphin in black paint. I was sweating profusely by then and wanted my mommy! Al got his palette and mixed Calcutta Black Ink which was imported from the US. The ink, Al informed, was a potassium-based dye that contained fruit extracts.

Next, it was time for the tattoo gun that looked like a crude version of the drilling machine and sounded worse. I yelled that I just had to have the topical anaesthesia. Al said it wouldn’t make much of a difference (it took away just 30 per cent of the pain, he added). But he finally applied some anaesthesia around the dolphin and we waited for around 10 minutes, which turned out to be the longest 600 seconds of my life.

Once the wait was over, he wiped off the ointment, but somehow, the area didn’t feel all that numb. Al took out the disposable needle which was displayed to me and fixed on to the gun. He asked me to sit down and stretch.

The gun came closer and closer and finally pierced my skin. The pain was unbearable and the lights went out of my world. ‘‘I need a break,’’ I yelled.

And I got it, as Al took the gun off my skin, sprayed water and wiped the ink that dripped. The gun was connected to an adaptor and worked on the lines of a sewing machine. The breather got over too soon and we continued. What did it feel like? Labour pains? Waxing after six months, multiplied by 100?

The discomfort just kept getting worse. The corners of the dolphin and the waves were where it hurt the most. Al was oblivious, and engrossed in finishing his masterpiece. Once the outline was done, he got down to shading the dolphin which, he assured me, wouldn’t hurt as much since it was done on the first layer of the skin unlike the outline that pierced the second layer.

The shading, finishing touches et al take about 10 minutes, and I finally relaxed. The dolphin on my skin looked swell, and in spite of the pain, I think Dolly—that’s what I call her these days—was damn well worth it.