Waiting for an aromatic mail

When Nangi questioned my obsession with aromas I could ague my way till the dawn. But, with her A/Ls ogling at her from the door-step and with the many piles of books waiting to be hugged touched and be slept on them, I was forced to left her alone.
It all began when Nangi exclaimed “There are people who can’t stand all these fancy smells and I am one of them,” soon after sniffing my new eau de cologne. The one thing I was trying to convince her was the fact that, smells are so special to me because there is no way of transferring or transmitting aromas like what we do with sounds, pictures and even videos. So much for the modern-age techo-freaks, no one has squeezed their brains to look for way to send an aromatic mail or a stinking petition.
Perhaps, this is what makes smells extra special- their transient nature and the mark they leave with the memories we so much treasure.
Strange enough, my nose recognizes places and people with the smells associated to them. I like to dip my nose into my parents’ wardrobes whenever I get a chance to arrange their clothes. There is nothing like letting the faint breeze of their perfumes loiter in your nose for a moment.
I also adore the aroma of moth balls and ‘savandara roots’ leaking out from Achchi’s almairah. That was one of those never-fading smells and at one point you will actually believe that nothing has changed around you and you are still that four-year-old child who would happily snug in the sanctuary of Achchi’s sarees when she arranged her things.
What I miss perhaps is the milky, sticky sort of baby smell mixed with baby soap and powder that greeted me whenever I cuddled my baby brother into my arms some ten years ago. For me, that was the fragrance of innocence and to my choosy nose anything that is godly and faultless had to have that smell. But when Malli grew up, he lost the scent, nature gave him, and now at the age of eleven he has lost much of his innocence too.
The juicy scent of freshly-cut grass drags me from my mind’s hands and takes me back to school. The ever-green memories of running, falling and rolling on the soft playground-grass and panting in teams until our breathing becomes normal fill with me with a childish desire to go there and try to run my usual ten circles.
And what is more, when it comes to seasons, I sniff them in the air too! April’s air contains a plethora of scents filtered from seasonal flowers and fruits. August has a scent of dust, dryness and the smell of sun rays. (Yes, that is the smell you get on your pillows and clothes that are crunch-dried in the sun) But my favourite is the smell of Christmas- the fragrance of pine trees, confetti and baking that bring in a hope of return, calmness and homeliness.
If I am to die tomorrow and I have one last chance to indulge my nose in something, I would go for the scent of dust that settles on a long forsaken soil after a much looked forward shower- one of those first showers that inspires and transpires brighter side of life and living.
Fragrances have become such a vital part of my life that I have almost started believing in the fact that I was a sniffer-dog in my last birth. After all, what is so bad about being a sniffer-dog, when it’s a privilege everyone cannot attain.
As for me, I am daydreaming to receive my first aromatic missive- filled with the scent of morning rain-I don’t want words, let the perfume speak!