Henna is typically known as a temporary tattoo. However, to an Indian living in America, henna is a way for me to connect with my cultural identity.

When I first got henna done, it was Karva Chauth (an Indian festival to celebrate marriage). I remember sitting with the other kids and watching all of our moms get their henna applied. We stared in awe at these beautiful designs that stretched from their finger tips to their arms. After the moms were finished, we got to get henna on our hands.

I got a flower that laced up to my pinky finger. When we came home, my mom put lemon juice and sugar to help the color deepen. At school the next day, my friends were intrigued by how the color did not wash off. I faced a different reaction from my teacher. He was teaching us about something we would later learn in high school and another student blurted, "That is so weird."

My teacher proceeded to say, "Hey, I'm not the weird girl with writing all over my hand."

I remember wanting to blurt out how it was not writing; it was henna! It was my culture and it was important to me, because that day was Karva Chauth. I just pushed my sleeve over my hand. I was not really excited about henna the next year or the year after. My fascination was sparked again in high school. In fact, instead of being ashamed or embarrassed of my henna, I began to love it more passionately.

Since I was older while the moms were doing their henna, I helped out in the kitchen making chai and taking care of the babies. One of the grandmothers began to talk to me. She asked me to sit with her and she said she remembered the time when she had her henna ceremony before her wedding. She told me that the more your husband loves you, the darker the color of your henna will be.

We looked at pictures of generations of brides with henna. I looked at the people I was around, the food I was eating, and the music that was playing. When we all came together to get our henna done, we forgot about work or school the next day. We just admired the beauty of rich tradition that tied us all together.

Although we were not related, our culture is stronger than blood. I never realized how henna was more than a tattoo. It was representative of my acceptance for my culture and I would never pull my sleeve over my hand again. Even though I am not married, henna still represents love. I began appreciating the Indian part of my identity and not wanting to cover it up.

My middle school teacher's comment does not matter too much to me now. He inspires me to share something important to me and my heritage, because there are even more people who want to understand and love another tradition. Henna is a way for me to explore the patterns of my cultural past. It is a way for me to share how much India means to me (even though I have never visited the country).

I love doing my friends' henna, because they grow in newfound appreciation like I did for my cultural customs. This fall, on Karva Chauth, I cannot go with my family to get my henna done because I will be in college. But I know as soon as I begin to pipe a flower on my palm and make myself a cup of chai, I will be there with them. No matter how far the distance, we will be admiring the same beautiful adornment that taught us all to love.