Black fine line script tattoo reading Namaste on the ankle of a bare foot, with dark polished toenails.

Namaste script tattoo on an ankle

Lettering · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two bare feet rest on a pale surface, with dark nail polish on all the toes. A thin black script tattoo reading Namaste sits on the ankle of the upper foot, followed by a few partly visible characters. The image is neatly lit and the ink is shown in black and grey only.

Lettering Fine line Ankle Script Feet Toenails Nail polish

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Hilda Pargeter had written the same word on the back of every postcard she sent from the Sandcastle Boarding House, Cromer, and by the third week the postman had begun waiting at the gate for them. She had been a schoolmistress in Leeds for thirty-one years, and she considered a full stop a sort of promise.

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The word was something her sister Vi had brought home from a year in Poona, scrawled on a paper napkin at the railway station. It had lived in the drawer of the hall table ever since, under the spare keys and a bent hairpin. Vi died in February. Hilda found the napkin in March and began, for reasons she could not have explained to the vicar, posting the word to people who had never heard it: the milkman, a sour chemist on the high street, and a girl on the pier who sold tickets for the helter-skelter.

In the last week of August the girl wrote back. Her card had a pencil drawing of a small bowed head on the front and, on the reverse, in round careful capitals: MRS P, I LOOKED IT UP IN THE LIBRARY. IT MEANS I BOW TO THE PART OF YOU THAT IS ALSO IN ME. I DON'T KNOW IF THAT IS TRUE BUT I LIKED READING IT OUT LOUD TO THE GULLS. Hilda read it twice at the breakfast table, next to a boiled egg going cold.

That afternoon she took the napkin out of the drawer, smoothed it flat against the oilcloth and found the stain of old tea across one corner. She had carried the word for months as if it were a parcel she had been left to deliver. She folded the napkin into an envelope, addressed it to Vi at the house in Leeds, and posted it with the others, knowing it would come back to her as the postman always did, and not minding in the least.