Colour traditional-style tattoo of the elephant-headed deity Ganesha with four arms and a small mouse beneath, on a calf.

Ganesha on a calf

Neo-trad · Calf · Colour · Photo

A full-colour tattoo of the seated, dancing deity Ganesha with an elephant head, gold crown and ornate jewellery, shown on the calf of a person's leg. Bold dark outlines define the figure, with soft shading on the grey-green skin, gold ornaments and a red cloth at the waist. A small mouse sits at the lower edge of the design, and the figure fills most of the frame against a blurred background.

Neo-trad Calf Ganesha Elephant Deity Mouse Crown Jewellery

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The proving cabinet had been running hot since Tuesday, so every loaf that came out of it looked like it had been left in the sun. I was on my knees at the back of the bakery at quarter past four, scraping sour dough off the tiles, when I heard a tin of raisins tip over on the top shelf. Nan had kept a brass elephant up there for as long as I could remember, seated on a folded cloth with his legs crossed and one hand raised, and she used to say he took the blame for everything that went wrong before opening time.

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The mouse was the trouble. It was no bigger than my thumb and it never ran from the light, just sat at the edge of the flour bin with its whiskers working, as if it had signed the lease. Nan called it the god's own, because he rode a mouse wherever he went, which she said was a sensible arrangement for a man with that much to carry. I didn't believe her until the mouse walked across the bench with a raisin in its mouth, past three cooling tins, and set it down by the brass feet like an offering.

So I did what she would have done. I poured warm water over the yeast, pressed my palm flat against the bench beside the dough, and asked him, out loud and feeling a fool, to clear whatever was in my road before the van came at six. The dough gave a little sigh under my hands. By five the loaves had lifted, golden and blistered, and the mouse had gone quiet on the back step with the last raisin between its paws.

When the shutter rattled up, the street was grey and the bread smelled as if it had been baking all night. The milk float whined past the window, and on the step the mouse finished its raisin and went back to its place at the flour bin, where it sat as though it had never left.