Rural town girls snub traditional Hindu face tattoos in Pakistan

Grinding charcoal with a few drops of goat's milk, 60-year-old Basran Jogi peers at the faces of two small Pakistani sisters preparing for their first tattoos.

The practice of elder women needling delicate shapes onto the faces, hands, and arms of younger generations stretches back centuries in the Hindu villages that dot the southern border with India.

"First draw two straight lines between the eyebrows," Jogi instructs her friend poised with a sewing needle.

"Now insert the needle along the lines - but slowly, until it bleeds."

A six-year-old Pooja, poses for the camera as she adorns an indigenous tattoo inked on her face at the Jogi Colony in Umerkot, a Hindu-majority district in Pakistan.

Six-year-old Pooja barely winces as dotted circles and triangles are tattooed onto her chin and forehead.

On the outskirts of the rural town of Umerkot in Sindh province, her seven-year-old sister Champa declares eagerly beside her that "I am ready too".

In recent years, however, as rural Hindu communities in Muslim-majority Pakistan become more connected to nearby cities, many young women have opted out of the "old ways".

"These signs set us apart from others," said 20-year-old Durga Prem, a computer science student who grew up in the nearby city of Badin.

A villager in traditional attire points to an indigenous tattoo inked on Reshma's (centre) face at the Ponjo Kolhi village.

"Our generation doesn't like them anymore. In the age of social media, young girls avoid facial tattoos because they think these marks will make them look different or unattractive."

Her sister Mumta has also refused to accept the tattoos that mark their mother and grandmothers.

"But if we were still in the village, we might have had these marks on our faces or arms," she reflects.

Ward off evil spirits

Just two percent of Pakistan's 240 million people are Hindu, and the majority live in rural areas of southern Sindh province.

Aklan Jogi (left) and Rekha Lalnath (centre), adorning indigenous face tattoos, as they cook bread and grind spices for a meal at the Sodo Jogi Colony in Umerkot.

Discrimination against minorities runs deep and Hindu activist Mukesh Meghwar, a prominent voice for religious harmony, believes younger generations do not want to be instantly identified as Hindu in public.

Many Muslims believe tattoos are not permissible in Islam, and even those who have them rarely display them in public.

"We can't force our girls to continue this practice," Meghwar told the media. "It's their choice. But unfortunately, we may be the last generation to see tattoos on our women's faces, necks, hands, and arms," he said.

Few Hindus that spoke with recalled the meaning behind the practice of tattoos or when it began, but anthropologists believe it has been part of their cultural heritage for hundreds of years.

Jamna Kolhi (left) and her relative Reshma prepare tea at the Ponjo Kolhi village.

"These symbols are part of the culture of people who trace their roots to the Indus civilisation," anthropologist Zulfiqar Ali Kalhoro told the media, referring to a Bronze Age period that pre-dates modern religion.

"These 'marks' were traditionally used to identify members of a community" and to "ward off evil spirits", he adds.

Admiring the work on the grinning faces of the two little sisters, elder Jogi agreed that it was an ancestral tradition that enhanced the beauty of women.

Artist Guddi Manthar, drawing an indigenous tattoo on seven-year-old Champa's face. Photos: AFP

"We don't make them for any specific reason - it's a practice that has continued for years. This is our passion," she told the media.

The marks that begin dark black quickly fade to a deep green colour, but last a lifetime.

"They belong to us," said Jamna Kolhi, who received her first tattoos as a young girl alongside Jogi.

"These were drawn by my childhood friend -- she passed away a few years ago," 40-year-old Jamna Kolhi told the media.

"Whenever I see these tattoos, I remember her and those old days. It's a lifelong remembrance."

Agence France-Presse