Tattoos

I think I will get a tattoo done somewhere on my body. I would also have liked to have my hair spiked– three spikes actually– and color it red, but I don’t have much hair left. Anyway, you must be wondering why this sudden desire to get a tattoo. Well, the simple reason is, I want to make a statement—a statement of protest, as it were.  All those who display tattoos, bizarre body piercing etc. are making a statement. I know this from many reliable sources of both sexes and varying ages.

I believe I was 8 years old when I first heard the word “tattoo”. An uncle of mine offered to take me and a few cousins to what was called a Torchlight Tattoo. It turned out to be a military exercise with marching bands, equestrian drills and such. It was much later that I learnt that the practice of deliberately mutilating the body with designs is also called a tattoo.

I am inspired to go for it because nine out of ten Torontonians sport some kind a tattoo or have their bodies pierced. The piercings are mostly on various parts of the face but sometimes on climes further south.  They are all, as I said, making a statement. The profundity of the statement dictates how detailed or bizarre these mutilations would be. Say you want to do something stronger than giving someone the finger (to the mayor for example).  You could opt for sticking out a tongue full of studs.

To be an effective statement- maker (hereafter called SM), one has to choose the accoutrements properly. Jeans and T shirts are the norm. But the jeans should be at least four sizes too large. It lends respectability if you have a very thick chain hooked to the waist loops and disappearing into the pocket. However, should you choose to wear jeans that fit, it is essential that the garment is torn at the knees. The larger the holes, the better.  The T-shirts usually will have strange silk screen designs. Footwear is important. The hippest SM’s wear dirty sneakers—each a different color.

So why would I get the urge to make statements at this stage of my life? What caused these stirrings to manifest now? I wasn’t sure. So I checked with my friend Dr Simon Cox who after retirement has taken to raising eagles in Ladysmith, British Columbia. He listened to me carefully. He was quite concerned and advised that I should see a psychiatrist. Pronto. So I did.

So I gingerly walked into the consulting room of the shrink. Soothing sitar music was being piped in. The doctor walked in after a few minutes. “Is this music for my benefit?” I asked. This was supposed to be humorous. But he did not laugh. He had a grave mien. “What can I do for you Prof. Neighyaar”, he asked dryly. I told him.

After three sessions he diagnosed my condition. It is called ODD—Opposition Defiant Disorder. It appears that I had a troubled childhood, under very authoritarian parents who did not give me whatever I wanted and sadistic teachers who revelled in corporal punishments. In sum, generally, well, troubled. This called for serious introspection. And it dawned on me that my parents were, indeed, quite strict. They were not amenable to listening to some of my reasonable demands. For instance, I wanted to wear pants when I was in Middle school. All others were wearing pants. “You are too short; you would look silly”, said my mother. I wanted a bike. “You are too small; no one has invented a bike for children of your size.  Many kids had lunch brought to them by dubbawalas (servants who do this as a profession); I had to carry my lunch in what was called a tiffin box.

So, generally a troubled childhood.

Obviously I have been suppressing the desire to protest for over seven decades, it HAD to manifest somehow, sometime. Well, the time has arrived to purge my system of unwanted sentiments.

I don’t think I will be ready until next year. It took a lot of thinking before I could decide on how I would prepare myself to be a good SM. Where exactly to place my tattoo was a major issue because there is not enough square footage on my chest for an elaborate design. So I decided on copying a Mondrian work (see below).

On the back, I thought I will have a bear’s head, with fangs bared.  For facial piercings I had to seek help. Thankfully I came across a reference book called “Dictionary of Facial Piercings” http://bodyjewelryblog.com/2011/08/01/whats-that-called-dictionary-of-facial-piercings/.  For my ears, I have decided to follow an old Indian tradition—large holes in the earlobes, filled with studs.

It is my intention to stick my tongue out to the Prime Minister when I see him next. That would be my ultimate protest. I will be ready for it.  I will be in costume. I will be in character.  My ultimate Stanislavsky moment!!! And when I get near him, I will stick my tongue out.  I reckon I might be arrested, but I would have made my statement. It is a non-verbal expression of, “Mr. Harper, the Government sucks. The Establishment sucks”.