Horses for courses.
Nevertheless, I can't make up my mind about the attractiveness or otherwise of tattoos. Being a member of the Virgin Active (a contradiction in terms, surely) health club I see beautiful women in snug bikinis showing off lizards crawling down spines, black stars on inner thighs, rosettes around the navels; and guys with inked gladiatorial epaulettes that will probably look like ancient chigger infections in years to come.
In Kathmandu, the Newar women wear traditional tattoos on their ankles and calves as a deterrent to avoid rape by the Muslim hordes in mogul India whose detestation of tattoos originates in the handing down of an edict from God to Abraham and/or Mohamed that one should not deface the skin in any way. But why has tattooing the skin become so popular?
One Swiss guest who stayed with us for a while made two memorable comments: "Where are all the police? I don't see any on the streets" and "Why do women disfigure themselves with these tattoos on their backs?"
Dawa, my daughter, approached me with that dad-I want-your-permission-for-something look. She wanted my blessing to go ahead and have a tattoo. I told her I couldn't stop her but I would be disappointed if she did. Then there was a kind of telepathic agreement and we both said more or less the same thing to each other: that I would give up smoking and she would agree not to have a tattoo. That was five-years ago; and as far as I know she doesn't have one and I haven't smoked tobacco.
One night, I can't remember if this happened on the same night for both of us, we had a dream. I dreamed that she had got a tattoo and she was with Fulmaya, her mother, backing into a lift trying to avoid me. They both looked guilty and I realised that she had had a tattoo. 'Right, I'm going to start smoking again!' I petulantly cried out. When I awoke, I thought how stupid and puerile of me to have said that. I should have told her that though I was disappointed she had gone and got a tattoo, it was quite attractive.
Coincidentally, she had a dream in which she had got a massive tattoo and she so regretted having had it done and would have to live the rest of her life with it.
Both of us experienced a sense of relief.
We just don't do tattoos.
