Finally, we have done what Baba bear had forbidden us to do till we reach the age of consent. In his words, ‘pierce our ears and mutilate our body permanently.’
It so happened that we were third-time-lucky. But let us first narrate the first two aborted attempts. The first one was made with Mamma and Baba bears at a tattoo parlour and quickly ended in a disaster, preceded by pain that was bearable for perhaps the Baby bear (yours truly), but unbearable for the onlookers, namely, her parents, and thus the vow to never do it again was taken (which, as is evident from recent happenings, was not adhered to). The second attempt, a few weeks ago, was stillborn given that our little heart backed out (or was it spoken out of it by Baba bear? We’ll never know, will we?) on the day it was decided we would do it. So, when we declared that we shall be getting our ears pierced, Baba bear was kind of hoping it was one of those more-bravado-than-actual-determination types of announcements that regularly infect the Bear household, especially when it comes to going up and befriending strangers, holding one’s ground in face of peer pressure, and not being so generous with our things that people take advantage of our nature (all propensities that seem inherited from the paterfamilias, and hence, chronic in nature).
Turns out, we are tougher than he reckoned, or at least we painted ourselves into such a corner as to be unable to back out so late in the day.
So, on Sunday, the 2nd of January of the Common Era 2022, yours truly, little Kymaia Gadgil, accompanied by her Aji (Kavita Gadgil) and her Mami Aji (Shaila Kulkarni), went to her surnamesakes (is that a word?), P N Gadgil & Sons (jewellers to assal Punekars since 1832) in their original Laxmi Road shop, and finally consummated the painful and deplorable (as per Baba bear) act of permanently marking a young, innocent child’s body with the symbols of the traditional female as seen by the Indian patriarchal male society that somehow cannot imagine (or accord the same rights to) a human female without pierced ears as something of a complete human.
(Side note: You won’t believe how many times we have been mistaken for a boy on the racing/running track because of the short hair and lack of earrings).
Sigh! Trust Baba bear to act the tragedy King (or is it drama Queen?) he is and go off on his rant about a simple act of self-assertion by someone growing up to be a fine young lady (or so we have been told). So, kindly ignore his verbose writing about reading too much into an act that actually made us feel good about something we have been wanting for a long time, and managed to pull off in face of overwhelming odds, viz., Baba bear’s logic and our fear of pain.
Of course, things weren’t as smooth as we are narrating them to be. First, we baulked right at the door and tried to retreat, only to find it blocked by both Ajis. Then, we bawled our heart out, claiming that we would never again disobey Baba bear. Then, we insisted that first, Aji get her ears pierced. Again. So, she did, and in the process got herself a diamond stud too. Then, Mami Aji (who is a dentist) applied enough local anaesthetic to our earlobes to put a horse to sleep. The piercing specialist marked our ears with a permanent marker, which was difficult due to the anaesthetic cream but was eventually achieved with some ingenuity (and lots and lots of ink). The starter pack of gold earrings that Aji bought (the ones with sharp edges) were sterilised over a fire. It all looked very sinister. In our mind, we started chanting, ‘fear is my friend; pain is my friend’ (this is Baba’s mantra, but it was obviously not working today). Before we knew it, our hands were held down by two rather strong 70-year-olds. And we were thinking of crying big drops of salty tears when we were told that it’s done.
What? That’s it? That was cool. It was nothing. We were never afraid. We could do it again. No, strike the last bit. But it was nice. We think we look cute, don’t we? Aji likes it. We are sure Mamma and Baba bears will like it too. What is it called? Fait accompli! What’s done, as Baba says, is done. And all we have to do now is to deal with it. Like the cards in Uno. You play with what you have. And now, we have this.
Baba says that this means we have grown up. Have we?
