The Mehendi, 3 hours after I washed the powder off. I think I can do better, though.
Got mehendi on my hands (I refuse to call it Henna, for god's sake, it's so beautifully Indian to call it Mehendi, though Henna is Indian too!). The last time I had that was my cousin's wedding last year- both hands covered, from some roadside artist in Vile-Parle, managed to soil Manasi's shirt.
It was a Sunday, 7th of May, just a after a chem and physics test. Manasi met my friend Myron, for the first time, she was wearing the green Hongkong shirt, and we had masala chhaas at the bus stop!
Mehendi also brings along a lot of other memories, one related to Myron- this was the next day, after the wedding, in class. Someone, Karvi I think, had started teasing him about whose 'haath peela karega' and all.
Another one is when I wrote, drew cryptically actually, a certain 'crush's name a little over my ankle. Wore socks for a week in the house, claiming it was cold. I had to feign a fever an entire week. It was really cute, and quite daring considering a cursed-to-cowardice kid like me. This must've been in the 11th, I was VERY crazy about him!
Mehendi gives me a very Indian feel, you know. Kinda pleasantly bridal too, if you know what I mean. No, no hurry to get married, no prince charming in mind (well...maybe...)- just a very giggly feeling takes over.
This time, the design's got my festival logo in it. SNIFF obsessed!