24 / Protection

For when I falter and fail, who has my back?

As a child, I found safety behind the folds of my mother’s cotton sarees. Her scent, a warm musk mixed with rich soil, grounded me. I grew up with the certainty that I was protected. I was not alone. When the world felt too big and my problem insurmountable, my mother would tell me what to do.

That is a weight every parent carries. When I look at my daughter now, I am reminded of my childhood. And like my mother, I protect her in whatever way I can.

This time of protection, hiding within the soft folds of your mother’s garment, holding her tight as she shields you from monsters within and outside, is a small window. In adulthood, the dynamics change. As I grow older, I have become hesitant to burden my mother with my problems. I want her to be free of my fears, even as I struggle to find another anchor to hold me in place.

So, who protects the protector?

Circumstances have taught me that I can rely on myself alone. There is no logic in this. Only a definitive belief that for women who have fought for everything they want in life, it is easier to depend on themselves. That way, they can never be let down.

But it gets tiring. This need to always be alert, watchful. To know that the tide can change, and you must be prepared for it. I now crave my mother’s soothing hand on my forehead. I long for her reassurances. And yet I know that we have passed the time when she can calm me.

In my search for another anchor, I found myself gravitating towards getting a tattoo. It is strange how shifts in adulthood can lead you to places of belief that you did not know were possible.

Indigenous tribes have used tattoos for centuries, not as ornaments of beauty but as symbols that mark the rites of passage into adulthood and motherhood. They are earned over the years and marked in specific areas of your body to symbolise growth, power, fertility and wisdom.

My tattoo honours my journey and growth. It is my rite of passage, earned after years of neglecting myself. It is an act of self-love and a nod of acceptance to unseen forces at play that I cannot understand completely. It symbolises protection – two warriors that guard the feminine, connected by the eye that wards off negative energies.

It stands as a reminder that when I fail, there will be a way to rise again. That when my strength diminishes, a deeper reservoir will open to replenish me. That when I am lost, the eye will guide me. I am no longer alone. In simple words, there is someone who has my back. And for now, it is the only anchor that I need.

Tattoo by Mo Naga / Headhunters Ink

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Naqab (Mask) explores the many masks I wear as an Indian woman. It is my attempt to unravel, and discover my deep-seated conditioning, biases, strengths and weaknesses, one portrait at a time.

The project will span a year, with one portrait every week.

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Head here for the entire series.

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