As a child, I'd spend the night before Eid watching my aunts draw intricate little henna patterns on my palms. They'd ask me what I was doing in school. I'd tell them about a story I'm reading in class. They'd draw a little book on my palm surrounded in paisleys and floral patterns as if to say, "maybe one day, you'll be a writer too." 

In my high school years, I adopted their use of symbolic motifs to capture my moods, dreams, or stories I wanted to tell. I was fascinated by traditional Korean and Pakistani art and often tried blending the two as a way to capture the clashes and harmonies from both of my cultures.

The dotted grid paper of my algebra notebooks was perfect for making proportioned shapes and designs. My math teacher once caught me using a compass to map out the body of a dragon instead of doing our in-class assignment. 

"Aliya, the period's almost over," he'd say. "But also show me the drawing when you're done, I wanna see." 

I began telling him and the classmates who caught on to my little bonus assignment about the significance of dragons in East Asian culture. 

I told them about the different Chinese zodiac animals and how it's believed that the animal of the year you were born reflects personality traits or fortunes. 

I was born in the Year of the Dragon and my Korean grandfather's name, Yong-hae, translated to dragon - so the mythical animal had a dual significance in my life. 

Some of the kids in the class began asking if I could draw tattoo designs for them that symbolized different parts of their lives. They had a story or an idea of what they would want a tattoo to represent, but didn't know necessarily what it would look like. 

I'd spend lunch periods and after-school hangouts listening to their stories and bring them a design to our math class a few days later. In my early college years, I met some other classmates who learned about my side gig and did the same for them. 

Here are some of their tattoos and the stories that inspired them.