you know how sometimes a certain scent will catch your attention, like a memory, even though there is nothing in the room that would give off that scent? there is a faint whiff of mehndi in the air right now. it lasts and lasts, cycles away and returns with a deliberate sniff. but my mehndi stash is upstairs; there is none in ths room.

like any scent laden with associations, even this barely discernable whiff sets off a drift of mental images (the ones that, like dreams, are not entirely bound to the five senses). most of these are of a dear friend's wedding, just a couple of weeks ago. and a week ago, too - desi weddings are never a one-night affair. or one weekend, or anything so brief. especially at a wedding, mehndi is one of those things you love or loathe; for some people the tart-herby smell, often laced with unidentifiable chemicals, the cold-spinach tickly texture, and the bother of having all limb extremities incapacitated for several hours are simply not worth it. just another of the inconveniences a woman is expected to endure for the sake of beauty; just make-up for the hands and feet.

but the images and memories i identify with that unmistakeable aroma go back so far - twice a year, on each 'eid, as far back as i can remember. first, simple flowers or the big-dot design - a great glob cold and gloopy in the center of your palm - and my mother explaining to american friends that we called it "mehndi" (i wondered if they would confuse it with our classmate named mandy. after all, this was the time when i allowed my name to be foully mispronounced for seven years, because i was too shy to correct anyone). then, as i discovered that i could try to draw on my hand whatever i was capable of drawing on paper, my hands took on some surreal attempts at realism in monochrome orange. waiting and waiting and waiting - trying to occupy myself with some other activity as i waited for the color to set in, but always glancing back at the design, checking it, trying to gauge the depth of the stain glowing from beneath the mossy lines and curls. after middle school, i began to see the wisdom in leaving it on overnight, and thus began a series of experiments in the attempt to discover the best way of sleeping through the night with at least one hand caked with an indelible dye - without staining sheets and nightclothes.

then there was - and still is - the absolute magic of 'eid mornings! waking up before dawn, and scraping off the encrusted green-black flakes to reveal pure red-orange beauty. on 'eid you wear your best clothes, which for desis usually translates to a new outfit. 'eid mornings are cleanness and arabic perfumes, saviyyan with ilaichi and the expectancy of joy; family smiles and hurry-ups; gathering with friends at the masjid in the brisk morning; shivering in our fine new clothes as we shared our results in varied shades of orange to red.

in college, i started paying more attention to traditional indian and pakistani designs - ever more enchanted by their pure art and intricacy. friends travelling to the homelands brought me design books; i copied designs out of magazines whenever i could, and started taking pictures of my own hands every 'eid, to keep a record of successful designs. boxed mehndi packs gave way to the infamous rani kone mehndi, the "queen of mehndi", blended with unknown things to produce an iodine hue that flakes rather than fades, ready-to-apply in a tube with a plastic nozzle, sublimely easier than making your own, and ultimately very dissatisfying.

i have used an ideal mehndi, once. it came in a plastic cone from pakistan, and was called "najma". no rani-kone clumps in the hole, no diarrhea-spurts of oily green water. perfect smooth texture, natural smell, dried overnight… the orange hue revealed in the morning deepened through the day to the loveliest deep crimson, so that aunties stopped me and demanded my services and cones for the next 'eid. alas, i said, this is for my brother's wedding… the rang lasted weeks instead of days, and faded in shades of orange to yellow, like it's supposed to. i have yet to find another like this…

but the absolute best thing about all of this is that people i love want me to decorate their hands when they are brides...

To see a published picture of me putting mehndi on someone, click here!

|My Mehndi Gallery |Henna or Mehndi |Usha Shah's Mehndi|

|Halawa Henna |Mehndi Main Page|