515
Prose
TATTOOS AND TRAUMAS
Kasturi Ghate
Tattoos & Traumas
( Theme: Invisible Scars)
My name is Tara.
I used to love to paint - the hues of heartbreak, the shades of solitude. The sea of serendipity
and the desert of despair. Capturing them all with my own two hands in color was my passion.
My last project was a man. Bringing him on canvas in his very true form. I decided to paint my
brother's friend - He lived in a one bedroom flat and never came out of his room as far as I
knew. Now portraying his reality, THAT is a challenge I thought. So my brother spoke with him.
The tongue tied soul had nodded in agreement, my brother said.
I started visiting him daily. His door would always be unlocked. This continued for one month,
but I started getting frustrated. He would stay as still as a statue. I could barely make out his
breathing. It felt as if I was doing a Still Life painting- I would joke with my friends. So I never
tried speaking to him so as not to spook him.
Then, one day, he lit a fragrant candle and placed it beside him. I was overjoyed. I started
painting. “ He's finally cracked! “, I would tell everyone claiming this was entirely my
achievement.
The next day I went full of hope, thinking there would be an addition to the candle- or maybe
even a firecracker. I was bewildered when I found the door locked. I tried pushing but it would
not budge. I asked the neighbors to help, and one of them broke down the door. Horror gripped
me as I saw my muse hanging from the ceiling fan, the candle still burning in front of his picture.
How had I missed something right in front of my eyes yesterday?
I was dumbstruck. Every time I would touch a canvas after that, I would be gifted with
goosebumps and flashbacks. So I did myself a favor and turned my body into my canvas.
A Tattoo for each trauma and teaching experience-
A noose.
A paintbrush.
A canvas.
And a heart.