For many years I used to scrub the kohl black from my fingertips with soap and a rough stone until the skin would burn. It never came out fully. My mother used to say, why you are fighting with it, it will go by itself in three-four days.

Now I have stopped fighting. The black is from lamp soot, which we mix with a little gum from the neem tree for the fine outline work. Kohl and gum, that is all, but it goes into the skin like it has decided to live there. When I go to the block office or to the bank, the clerk looks at my hands and then looks again. Once a young man asked me if I had burnt myself. I said no, it is my work.

There is a small thing I do which I am not able to explain properly. Before I begin the line work, I press both thumbs on the paper, one on each side, and look at where the marks fall. If they are not even, my mind is not even also, and I will wait, I will do some filling of colour first and come to the lines later. My granddaughter says this is superstition. Maybe it is. But the paper is costly and the hand should be settled before it touches.

The kohl pot itself is a small brass one my grandmother used for her eyes. I have never used it for eyes. Only for painting. It sits in the left corner of the table, and the lid is lost since long, so I keep a piece of cloth over it.