Mehndi Boy by Zain Bandali

Author:Zain Bandali
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Annick Press
Published: 2023-06-02T14:07:33+00:00

Chapter 7

Rahima started to cry. As much as she didn’t care for the smell of mehndi paste, Tehzeeb knew she definitely wanted to fulfill the tradition in time for her wedding.

Should I ask her if she wants me to do her mehndi? he wondered. No, I don’t want to upset Ayaz Uncle.

He handed his cousin the water bottle from his backpack. “Take a sip. I promise everything will work out okay!”

“Thanks, Tez,” she said, still sniffing.

As Tehzeeb zipped up his bag, the mehndi cone fell to the floor.

“Tez!” exclaimed Rahima. “You could do my mehndi in the limousine!”

Tehzeeb felt his heart lurch—he wanted so badly to jump up and say yes. But he couldn’t stop thinking of everything Ayaz Uncle had said. Mehndi wasn’t something boys should do . . . right?

“Are you sure, Rahima?” he asked, nervous butterflies churning in his stomach.

“Please, baby cuz. What is everyone going to say if they see my hands and feet undecorated? What about all the pictures? I’ve seen your work—it’s fabulous. Please?” she repeated, tears welling in her eyes.

“Okay . . . I’ll try my best,” said Tehzeeb as confidently as he could. Now his nervousness felt like a volcano, but he reminded himself that his cousin needed him.

Rahima’s eyes lit up. She let out a huge sigh of relief. “Yes, baby cuz! Please do a design on me—any design!” Her bridesmaids cheered for Tehzeeb.

His hands shaky, Tehzeeb put the cone to her hand and paused.

Am I really doing bridal henna right now? he thought. What have I gotten myself into?

When he’d said he wanted to be like Jenny Bai, he hadn’t realized it would be like this. He hadn’t realized it would be so soon! Had he practiced enough? What should he draw for his cousin?

Tehzeeb took a deep breath. He’d have to move these questions to the back of his mind. Right now, he had to focus on the most important task: creating mehndi fit for a bride.

He painted patterns with paisleys, laid lavish lace across her wrist, formed fancy florals, patterned proud pretty pea­cocks, and drew detailed domes that reminded him of the Taj Mahal. Before he knew it, he had covered her hand with a dazzling scene. He could almost feel it come to life in her palm.

As he was applying the last swirl, the limousine jerked forward—they weren’t stuck in the traffic jam anymore! But the jerk caused him to squirt a big squiggle on Rahima’s hand. Oh no! Tehzeeb started sweating and his head spun.

What was he going to do to fix this? He had to make it perfect—it was bridal mehndi after all. I’ve fixed mistakes before, he reminded himself, like when he practiced the first time with his mom. His heart raced. How was he going to fix this one?

Tehzeeb’s eyes landed on the glorious golden vines embroidered on the skirt of Rahima’s ghagra choli.

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