July 22, 2004

Tahira Sahar Siddiqui narrates the dreaded experience of having her nose pierced

Body-piercing is becoming more and more popular with each passing day. Some do it for fun and some just to be part of the ‘in’ crowd.

It began as an African tradition which spread to the West and became a fashion with young people. From there it reached the shores of other continents, including ours.

In western countries body piercing ranges from simple earlobe piercing to the slightly more off-kilter eyebrow piercing; from painless nail-piercing to painful tongue-piercing; from the not so common lip piercing to the now common belly button piercing. You name it, they’ll do it.

I remember when I was young (not that I have grown old now), it was a fashion among women in Pakistan to get their ears pierced all along the edge of the lobe. They would then wear small studs and earrings. I used to marvel at this. Even now many women prefer to wear at least two ornaments in each earlobe. It appears that pain is of no consequence and “beauty at all costs” is the motto.

Fortunately, I had my ears pierced when I was a little girl. It was a very painful experience, but being a child I could vent the pain through crying. Gone are those good old days. Now that I have grown up, my family has told me I have to have my nose pierced. “Every girl has to have it done some day,” is what they all said. I wasn’t convinced. “No, never” and “don’t you ever think about it,” were some of protests that I made.

But when I was told that I would soon be getting married and that I would have to have my nose pierced for the big day, I felt as if the whole world had turned against me. My wedding was finalized and I had no other choice but to allay my fears and go to the jeweller.

My aunt said that a bride was incomplete without a proper nose ring. My cousin said it didn’t hurt that much, I could tell by her face that she was lying. My mom chimed in that since I had a typical eastern face, it would suit me. But I was scared nonetheless.

A lot of silly queries and worries popped into my mind. What if I don’t like it? Can we fill the hole if we don’t like it? What if I look like a maasi with it? If Amrita Rao can look cool with that weird round nose ring in Main Hoon Na, then so can I. I kept on convincing myself with all the silly reasons I could think of. To be honest, somewhere deep down I had a feeling that it would suit me.

When the moment of truth came, I was escorted to the jeweller by four aunts who said that they were merely coming along for my moral support, but I knew they had actually come to make sure I didn’t run away. The jeweller made me sit on a little chair and said “Bismillah” as if he was about to slaughter me.

Now the issue was to select the perfect spot to be pierced on my nose. Every aunt of mine wanted to play an active role in this selection. So they took turns to calculate the focal point using their best judgment.

As a result, after some time my nose was serving as a blackboard on which one person would put a small dot with the help of a marker, and the rest would immediately comment that it was either too far up, too low down or too much in the centre. Then the next person would wipe out the dot with her finger (thanks to my super oily skin) and put a dot on the area which she thought was appropriate.

The jeweller and I watched these proceedings patiently for about half an hour until he could bear it no more. So he decided to take the matter into his own hands, marking a dot somewhere on my nose. Then, with the help of a sharp edged silver wire, my nose was pierced. Of course I felt the pain but I had to put on a brave face. I had clenched my fist, not that I was about to punch anyone. It was only to divert my mind from the pain. Still, a big, round teardrop from my left eye managed to roll down my cheek.

It was finally over. I had got my nose pierced. As I saw my pale face with a shiny red nose in the mirror, a sense of relief and happiness engulfed me, as if I had won some sort of trophy. I gave myself a big smile. The nose ring really suited me (I had thought it would). On my way back home I rewarded myself with a double scoop of chocolate ice-cream with wafers on top. And I had every reason to celebrate since, as far as I’m concerned I had done the impossible.

A couple of days later I found out that due to some disagreement between the two families the wedding had been called off. I took it well. After all, in the process I had managed to overcome my fears and trepidation, and was now happily wearing a nose ring. Everything really happens for the best, right?

Please Visit our Sponsor (Ads open in separate window)