Mehendi memories - Part 1

Droplets of sweat caress my brow, speckled with creamy white chandan. Black sequins adorn the wine red lehenga, sparkling in the inky fluid night. The mehendi annoys me as it circles and flowers my hands and I remember.....

..... we were young once again. Mehendi was mud meandering on my palms. Or so you'd said as you smashed my palms into each other and laughed. Boys can be like that.
I cried.
I couldn't go to Mama's wedding like that I had said. All the girls had beautiful mehendi and I was left with ugly filthy looking hands.

"What if Mehek Mami notices them too?", I asked with fresh tears sliding across my plump cheeks. Was that a look of regret that passed your face? I couldn't tell. 7 year olds can't read faces very well you see. You grabbed the nook of my arm and made me wash my hands.

"Yaheen ruko aur hilna mat. Theek?"*

What is that you were holding on to as you ran back to where I stood in the aangan- a sketch pen?
"Yeh kyun? "** I ask with a frown wondering if the 8 year old you wasn't as smart as I had thought. Maybe Kittu was wrong about you.

"Art M'am says I can draw well. I'll sketch like this" ,you said pointing to Geeta Kaki's 100 Bridal mehendi designs page 10 under the Fair & lovely ad. "Then you will have pretty hands too" and you smile

I look uncertain but you hold my hand and begin without waiting for my answer.

*stay here and don't move, ok?
**why this?

Update: Mehendi Memories Part 2