In Morocco, the traditional mehndi style is sharply geometric, with shapes such as triangles and diamonds woven intricately across the palm. In parts of Maharashtra, bridal mehndi is a reflection of the regional art, rich in warli and bedecked with dholki s. Down South, mandapam s and thoranam s bedeck the hands of the bride. The Sudanese style, on the other hand, is characterised by sweeping curves and broad strokes and curls that are scant and richly bold at the same time, resplendent on bridal hands in trademark black.
For 27-year-old Mahira Tabassum Mohsin, mehndi is an art form that sees a mix of all these, and more. Currently based in Dubai, she describes the traditional designs of the region as “earthy”, with broad flowers amid strings of intricate leaves in various shapes and patterns. Her work, however, is a blend of that and the style she picked up during her childhood in Chennai, as well as a host of other influences she has picked up from multiple cultures.
Judging by her 1,28,000 followers on Instagram, she must be doing something right.
“Henna in Dubai is a lifestyle,” she says, “There are professional outlets everywhere, and women visit them as frequently as they would visit a beauty parlour to get their hair or eyebrows done.” She notes how, across the years and across multiple cultures, henna has retained its spot as a mark of pure celebration. In Dubai, however, it has gone above and beyond its celebratory role and become a part of everyday life. In fact, it’s downright trendy.
“It’s like having an artistic tattoo, but one that you can change every once in a while,” she explains. It’s the cosmopolitan nature of the city that has made this possible, giving henna artistes massive scope for experimentation. It’s that same cosmopolitan mix of expatriate cultures that Mohsin credits for her education in her chosen art form. “Egypt, Somalia, Lebanon... they’ve all had henna as a part of their culture for ages.”
“We have a community called ‘henna gatherers’, where we each discuss stories of henna and the role it plays in our culture. So we have friends from Syria, Oman, Muscat...” she reels off, explaining the nuances of each. In Morocco, she says, it’s applied not with a cone, but a syringe. For Mohsin, who has been mixing mehndi and making cones ever since she was a seven-year-old in her family home in Chennai, this presented an intriguing contrast: the first of many.
“The Sudanese style uses black henna. Henna itself isn’t black; they mix hair dye with it and use it. It can be very harmful, and people — even in India — just buy it off shelves and use it, without thinking about it.”
Mohsin incorporated what she could, creating her own ‘Indo-Gulf’ style. She even taught it to two of her Insta-followers in Chennai through Skype, completing the circle of artistic give-and-take.
