Of tattoos that tell tales

Some many years ago, I fell down on glass pieces 

And got a cut.

A straight one from the side of my forehead to the side of my neck.

A random uncle called me aside the other day,

And told me, that I should get the surgery done to conceal the mark.

I laughed, and instead got a tattoo.

And turned that scar into a magic wand,

To prove that scars hide magic beneath them.

I came across an article the other day,

About how a man committed suicide because no one smiled at him.

And he had said that if anyone does smile, he won't take the drastic step.

And so as a reminder of him,

I tattooed the word 'smile' across the back of my hand.

Which reminds me to smile whenever I wipe my tears.

A few days back,

I saw a coloured man being choked to death.

And so, in honour of him,

I got a black rose tattooed across my arm, to signify that

Black is beautiful!

The newspaper bore headlines of a trans girl who gave up her life

Because society wouldn't let her be,

And that's how a Rainbow tattoo with the words "love is love,"

Found its way across my wrist.

So every time I put a finger over it, I can hear my heart beating.

Reminding me that Love is love.

A few days back,

My old clothes and books brought the brightest smiles on the orphanage children's faces,

And so, in the memory of their smiles,

I tattooed the words "Old is Gold" on my hand

Which compels me to think a thousand times, before throwing something away.

One day, I heard about the shootings on a news channel,

And I could no longer hold back my tears.

And so in a vain attempt to console myself, I tattooed the word "peace" across my finger.

And so, with these tattoos that told tales,

I walked along the road,

Only to be called 'a slut,' 'a whore,' 'a someone who's asking for it.'

Thus, in memory of this event,

I inked myself across my heart,

With the tattoos, tales and everything.

Because no longer were they just ink designs on my body,

But an integral part of me and my life story.