A Day Through My Nose

I got up in the morning, stretched my arms and smelled my palms, then hugged myself. The biggest baddest hug possible; then I closed my eyes and felt her. My mother is always around me especially in the mornings, though we live 1000 kms apart but there is something that has kept us connected.

When I was moving out of the house my mom told me to hug myself every morning, like I use to hug her when I was with her. She said she is in me. And this way I would be able to continue our morning hugs even when we are apart.

I tried doing it but in the starting I just couldn’t feel her. I didn’t know what was missing and I called her and said may be you are forgetting me, maybe that’s why I can’t feel you when I hug myself in the morning.

She laughed and told me to close my eyes, open my senses and my palms and smell them before the hug. And then take a deep breath and hug again.

I closed my eyes, smelled my palms, they smelled of her. The smell of our shared love of cocoa body butter blended with a whiff of gulabjal just like her. I could smell the haphazardly cleaned turmeric stain from my dress last night, just like her. Yes she was there in my smell, in my habits, in me. I hugged myself and I could feel her warmth around me. From that day onwards I have always felt her presence around me.

Warm and sunny, like a bright Sunday morning

There you are pulling me out of the bed, yelling in my ears “Good morning”

Rise and shine and take on the world

I am there with you, always holding your hands unnerved

As I walked towards the kitchen, I saw you keeping the tea to brew as always my love. The Kettle whistles and lets out its steam and the kitchen was filled with an aroma of fresh and mint

Fresh and minty just as I like

My first cup of the day always with you

Parle G dunked and licked

Newspaper opened and flicked

I close my eyes and sip through the memories

Of each cuppa shared with you, each sip divine, each memory exemplary

My life, my love, my other half

Just then it started to rain, I ran and opened the balcony.I felt the rains on my face and closed my eyes. The smell of rains and the sound of water gushing down took me to memory lane.

Last few days with you

We walk down our favorite lane

And just then the rain gods came

People ran and got shelter

We ran and got wetter

Spicy chat and sweet Popsicle

Spice burns and sweet tickles

Our last alone day together

My sis, my love, my saviour forever

I came in completely drenched relishing the memories and picked up the towel. I wipe, sniff and snicker. The towel smells flowery. It smells of spring. It smells of lily and rose together. It must be the new washing powder I laughed and said it out loud. How nice, flowery and wonderful. Just like our weekly trips to the temple when we were kids. How funny is our mind, how weird is our memory? My pink fuchsia towel takes me to a trip of the pious land, our family temple.

Petals and petals of flowers

On the lane leading to the temple

A look at the face of Shri Ganesha

And my heart trembles

I sing loudly, songs in your praise

My trust in you strong, my believe never strays

After this I head out to the kitchen with a head still wet and a heart still warm with so many wonderful memories. Wanting to make something special that would make this day more precious; I started looking around the cabinet. And saw my spice rack. It looked inviting filled with spices, colors and memories.

The turmeric....It reminds me of my endless coughs and sneezes followed by a glassful of yellowed milk

Red Chilly...I take a sniff and get teary eyed. It reminds me of all the gol gappas we had in a blink 

Garam malasa....I open the bottle and the kitchen is filled with memories of Sundays; spent on the dining table waiting for Mom’s special Chicken Masala and our finger licks.

I smiled at the memories and added all the love flowing out of my heart to the food. A sumptuous lunch and a long afternoon nap later I got up feeling all refreshed and bright. As I walked through my house tidying everything, I realised every object around me has a story. Not each story is important but it is still a memory.

A deodorant brings back college memories,

A sniff of room freshener brings the first date back

The rose incense stick burning brings back the memories of our wedding night

Fresh cut mango takes me to that summer afternoon of first kiss

Whiff of freshly fried Samosas reminds me of the treat I gave from my first salary

The smell of something burning reminds me of the first burnt chapatti after my wedding

So many more moments, memories countless, immortal living through our sense of smell

There are some moments that would remain lost like a hazy or a lazy memory somewhere in our brains but weirdly our sense of smell gives them life. It makes them more vivid, more colourful, and more nostalgic. So many things, so many smells, so many memories alive and throbbing forever through our nose.

This post is my entry for “Smelly to Smiley” contest at Indiblogger sponsored by AmbiPur India