It's like songs that transport us to a different period... Certain scents have that capability. I am borrowing some parts from a post I put up in 2013.
There's a deo that reminds me of the smell after bath at our grandmother's home with the green Cinthol soap. Six grandchildren would take turns to have bath and there would be competition to 'inaugurate' the new soap.
The smell of hot iron box on starched cotton takes me to the Sundays years ago when my father would press our uniforms and his Mundu (traditional wear for men in South India). He would ask us to hold the ends of his starched Mundu to stretch and fold it.
The red Lifebuoy soap also reminds me of my father. He never switched brand even after several of them splurged the market. We demanded a new one everytime we saw an advertisement.
The fresh bundle of clothes that arrives from laundry carries with it the aroma of my grandmother's wardrobe where all her Mundu and neriyathu (traditional Kerala wear) were neatly arranged.
The scent of jasmine flowers has many associations that instantly transports me to my childhood. And later the city I started working -- Chennai. It was the scent of evenings in Chennai.
The smell of wicks burning in brass oil lamps reminds me of temple visits years ago... The heat and sweat when we light the huge lamp with hundreds of wicks for the evening puja.
The aroma of crushed cardamoms meant Amma making payasam at home. The scent of cashews roasting on embers that waft across our lane would make us run home from school. Even the evenings and mornings had different smell then. So as rainy days and sunny days.
Certain scents are gone forever. Still they retain the power to tug me back to that time.
No comments:
Post a Comment