“I want to pierce my nose”, I declared on a cloudy Saturday morning. My parents looked perplexed. I was super excited and I went on ranting. I told them that I am confused whether to buy a traditional white stone or a more rebellious black!
My parents continued to stare at me with a horror-stuck face. Finally my father asked, “Are you serious?” I said, “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?
My mother started surfing the calendar and she said, “No dear, today is not an auspicious day. Let us fix it on the coming 21st.”
“Come on amma that is a month away from today. I cannot wait that long!” I cried
“Have you forgotten what happened last time?” My father asked.
An array of memories flowed in my mind. It was almost 4 years before. After convincing my parents and myself, I decided to pierce my nose. I googled, I consulted friends, family and many other random people. I was excited and tensed at the same time. I was confused whether to go to a Goldsmith or go for gun-shot. After research and more research, my parents and I unanimously agreed to go for a gun-shot. We presumed that nose piercing will be done in a shot and there would not be much pain.
An auspicious day was chosen and we went to a reputed jeweler. I was made to sit on a tall stool… The kind you get to see in Kaun Banega Crorepathi. I was totally uncomfortable. I feared that I may jerk and fall down and my lips would be pierced together instead.
A young salesman came with the equipment. He did some marking on my nose… Confirmed whether to pierce left or right and proceeded. I closed my eyes… Clutched my appaji’s hands tight and prayed all the possible Gods…
OUCH!!!! The gun-shot machine had got stuck in between… And the salesman was desperately trying to pull it off my nose. I started crying and the sniffs of cries only triggered the pain. It was intolerable! After a Himalayan effort, he separated that gun from my nose. Blood started flowing and I saw myself in the mirror; horror followed. I pleaded that I don’t want any more nose piercing episode. But, they didn’t let me. Everybody said that mark would stay as a scar. Before I could decide, he shot the gun again on the same wounded spot. I cried in pain. My parents stared at me helplessly.
I endured the pain for almost two weeks. And the twist in tale is yet to come. One fine afternoon, I realized that the nose-pin had fallen off!
Coming back to the present, my parents realized that I was too determined to be convinced. So we headed to a jeweler. Chose a small nose-pin with white stone and met the Goldsmith. And my nose was pierced. I didn’t shred a single droplet of tear. I came back home happily.
May be this is why they say… never ever give up?!