Black lettering tattoo in Devanagari script across the upper chest of a person in a pink cardigan and white crop top, with a second script tattoo on the side of the waist.

Devanagari script tattoos on chest and side

Lettering · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A close crop shows a person from the neck to the thighs in a pink cardigan, white crop top and grey ribbed trousers, with no face visible. The main tattoo is a bold black Devanagari script across the upper chest, with a small dark geometric shape in the cleavage and another line of script on the side of the waist. The shading is solid black and grey, and the composition is a bright, evenly lit outdoor shot against white cladding.

Lettering Chest Other Script Lettering Triangle Geometric shape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow had closed the Sorrel Pass on the third day of November, and Hanne Vogt had run short of patience before she ran short of firewood. Her husband had taken the mule up the track for flour from the mill and had not come back down. So she climbed to the loft, took down the tin of lamp-black and the brush with the bent handle, and painted a word on the shutter that faced the road, the way her mother had done in the bad winter.

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The word was not written in the valley hand. Her grandmother had carried it over the mountains from a place where the letters hang in a row from a single top stroke, like washing from a line. Hanne had never learned to read it, only to copy it. She drew it slowly, stroke, hook, stroke, and beneath it, in the gap where the hinge sat, she made a small triangle with its point down, because her grandmother said a roof turned on its head meant someone was still awake under it.

Two nights later a lantern came bobbing up from the lower road. It belonged to Oskar Brenn, a carter who could not read a letter in any alphabet, but who said he had seen that shape of roof in a dream and had followed it up through the drifts with his horse blowing steam behind him. Hanne's husband was walking beside the horse, flour sacks split and damp across his shoulders, and he stopped in the snow and looked up at the shutter for a long time before he came in.

When the thaw came, Hanne scraped the shutter clean, as she had promised the village council she would. She left the triangle. Carters still stop at the Sorrel inn and ask about it, and she tells them it is a roof, and that somebody is awake under it.