My earliest memory of fragrance emanates from the pages of books. Old books have a mellow, make-you-sneeze kind of presence. New books are arrogant, they strut their new ink and paper. Both are wonderful.
No surprises there. I am nothing, if not a reader. But yes, I am driven by a strong sense of smell. And hearing. Perhaps to compensate for my poor eye sight. Fragrance is what I'm talking about today.
Riding the bus back from college, I'd always catch the scent of bread being baked. Even these days, I pass a little bakery everyday and sometimes, if I'm at the right time, I can deeply inhale the lovely idea of baking bread.
Chocolate of course is on my list. The Bournville ad? It’s true. Hear the snap, close your eyes, take in the fragrance and then bite into it. We tried it, certain family members and I. These family members will go unmentioned here- you know who you are. Suffice it to say, we were disciplined for the first square of chocolate. After that, it was tear wrapper and eat. But the fragrance of cocoa is many layered. My sister bakes every time I visit, and the house is filled with the delicious aroma of chocolate cake for days after. Okay that’s an exaggeration- the cake doesn’t last that long. But the fragrance lingers.
Sometimes when I take the turn in the road that leads to my home, the air carries the fragrance of jasmine and roses. There’s a temple at the corner, and a few flower sellers. In another home, the night is fragrant with night queen, a hypnotic scent.
And rain. Ah,the fragrance of rain is a life long love affair for me. I am fortunate I was gifted a little bottle of attar, that evokes the fragrance of rain. I take long breaths of it and feel happy. It carries the richness of loamy soil and rain raining down on trees.
I also associate fragrance and people. My maternal grandmother always smelled of old Cinthol soap. It is an unmistakable connection for me. Another soap, Hamam, reminds me of the time when my parents, sister and I moved into our own home, back in 1992. We’d spend the morning unpacking boxes and take baths in the afternoon warmth. A beloved uncle used to wear Blue Stratos, an after shave lotion. That deep blue glass bottle started off my perfume bottle collection that now numbers in the 100’s.
The world of perfume. Charlie’s Red or Sunshine. Estee Lauder’s Pleasures-My first ever sophisticated perfume. And then, Jovan’s White Musk. Burberry. Jasmine lotion and shower gel from Body Shop. Stores and their particular fragrance. Fabindia. Book stores.
And food. Mom’s rajma. Cinnamon. Coriander. The fragrance of garlic and ginger. The richness of milk boiling on the low, becoming thicker and thicker,golden brown. Turning a corner in a mall and being greeted with the fragrance of cookies from Cookieman.
Vodka.
Whisky.
Wine.
Perfume. Aroma. Fragrance. Bouquet. No matter the word you prefer, the end result is still the same for me. Powerful. Evocative.
Mystical, even.
