Honestly, I did not know this until yesterday either. But I know now that a mehendi cone in the hands of a 5-year old can be a potential disaster! It all started with this wedding we went for on Saturday night. It seemed like the whole silk donning world around us was sporting mehendi on their palms – except us (and ah….we were not donning silk either!). My daughter got this major complex. She was really upset that I did not think of this problem beforehand. Me being twisted around her little finger – felt that this was indeed a major flaw in my character. How could I do this to her?!
So we slipped out of the noisy wedding hall and walked into the nearest fancy store. The sales boy at Raja Fancy Store seemed thrilled to see us for some reason. He ushered us in with full drama and asked solicitously what we wanted. “Do you have mehendi cone?” I asked.
“Yes sure we do” and he pulled out a box full of some Singh mehendi cone.
We picked out one and paid him. “Nothing else?” He wondered and his joy was instantly deflated. He looked crossly at us – as if we had disappointed him in a big way. Silly man!
Anyways we walked out happily, imagining all the lovely designs my daughter could now sport on her palm…
Sunday morning the rest of the family went off for yet another wedding and I was at home babysitting great grandma and of course my daughter. The day dawned late for my little one. At sometime past 9:30 am she walked out of bed and straight to the refrigerator. Out came the mehendi cone. And she came to me with it, her hair all tousled, squinting her eyes in the bright sunshine. “Amma put!” she demanded. First words of the day! Ah to be a sweet child again…no other care in the world, except her mehendi.
Somehow I made her wait for an hour until I finished cooking and she had had her breakfast etc. Then I sat and drew out mehendi in both her hands. The child’s joy knew no bounds (yeah my horrid mehendi design skills were enough to make her happy!). She waited patiently for 45 minutes and then we scraped it off and applied oil etc. There! Her hands were bright orange. All was well with her world again.
But now her problem was that there was so much mehendi left in the cone. What to do with all that? She wanted to apply for me! I shuddered. Oh I totally dislike mehendi. I ran. She chased. We ran round and round the dining table – she with cone in hand and…squirt…! A big blotch of mehendi drooled onto the floor from it. I paused in horror. The white mosaic would be stained!! I told my daughter to not touch it and went off to fetch a cloth. By the time I came back the blotch was smeared all over – as my daughter guiltily attempted to clean it. She stood there with blotches all over her hand. “I wanted to help you clean it amma.” She told me innocently. I reached boiling point but somehow swallowed the anger. We washed her hands and then I cleaned the floor. And then, sigh, to prevent further disaster I gave her my hand.
With her tongue sticking out she struggled to squeeze the cone nothing came out of it. Frustrated she shook it hard and ‘plop’ a large lump of the annoying green thing went and landed on the wall! Oh dear, the freshly painted wall. I shot up and pleaded with my daughter not to smear it and ran off to fetch tissues. This time round she did not attempt to ‘help’ me. Thank god. Somehow we cleaned it – but a nice orange spot was left on the living room wall. This adventure over, we settled down yet again and somehow, with her tongue sticking out, she designed some lumpy flower shaped amoeba in my hand. A fat lump on one feet and something like yin-yang on my other feet. Enough was enough. I refused to show my other hand.
There was still some Mehendi left. I kept it back in the fridge and told her we could use it at a later date. Reluctantly she agreed.
Then I got busy with some work and my daughter entertained herself with her dolls. For a while there was peace and silence. Then granny emerged from her room calling for me in panic! Something cool and wet in her legs. Was she bleeding? She wanted to know. She is 97 years old, cannot see very well and understandably - panics easily. I too panicked! There was granny walking as fast as her weak legs and eyes could aid her. And she was leaving little mehendi footprints all over.
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