Aroma is nostalgia ,
distasteful smells may remind of us of something unpleasant .
I will stick to the pleasant
our childhood memories are full of smells
the subconscious smell of the mother is always there from our infancy this is the smell of love warmth and happiness
smells associated with fathers too are full of love and a sense of being protected
childhood food has its aroma drenched into our subliminal beings
every time we come across the same smells our primordial sense takes us into forays into our childhood
to me the smell of unripe bananas fried in coconut oil , jackfruit cooked in jaggery and ghee ,or raw mangoes cut into tiny pieces and cooked with coconut reminds me of my annual Kerala holidays.
this is a smell which is associated with the colour green and pouring rains .
my state Kerala is cocooned in a green canopy ,trees thickened with dark green leaves green pools of water flowing greenish blue rivers hills of green paddy fields swaying in the wind as green as can be the soft green moss adorning the red granite stones and yes I would even dare to call the smell green the freshness of this fragrance can never be described it can only be approximated to be called as the smell of earth as the smell of nature .
the morning dew and the budding flowers flitting butterflies add their aroma to the atmosphere
the rains have a smell of their own the gathering clouds darken the skies rushing adrenaline to our exited veins and suddenly it pours from the skies and the spattering rain brings its own freshness as it touches the sodden earth ,turning the ground to a squelchy mess bringing muddy nosocomial stimuli .
I am reminded of my granny , angelic in her white dress twinkling eyes adorning her fair countenance serving me food and fresh milk in tall glasses warm from the udders of our cows .
I can still smell my grandpas snuff as he sneezed to the dismay of my granny and becomes suffused with flushing redness either due to the snuff or due to his wife's displeasure at his habits .
I can smell the dark rooms and its stuffy furniture's as along with my cousins we played games in the the darkness of the dusk
the wind would bring us the smells of the harvest as dark bronzed bodies of women laden with the weight of bundles on their heads thrash it on the floor and the grain shifts while the husk flies into oblivion and to our nostrils giving its bouquet to our senses
smells are our time machines to our childhood savour them
distasteful smells may remind of us of something unpleasant .
I will stick to the pleasant
our childhood memories are full of smells
the subconscious smell of the mother is always there from our infancy this is the smell of love warmth and happiness
smells associated with fathers too are full of love and a sense of being protected
childhood food has its aroma drenched into our subliminal beings
every time we come across the same smells our primordial sense takes us into forays into our childhood
to me the smell of unripe bananas fried in coconut oil , jackfruit cooked in jaggery and ghee ,or raw mangoes cut into tiny pieces and cooked with coconut reminds me of my annual Kerala holidays.
this is a smell which is associated with the colour green and pouring rains .
the morning dew and the budding flowers flitting butterflies add their aroma to the atmosphere
the rains have a smell of their own the gathering clouds darken the skies rushing adrenaline to our exited veins and suddenly it pours from the skies and the spattering rain brings its own freshness as it touches the sodden earth ,turning the ground to a squelchy mess bringing muddy nosocomial stimuli .
I am reminded of my granny , angelic in her white dress twinkling eyes adorning her fair countenance serving me food and fresh milk in tall glasses warm from the udders of our cows .
I can still smell my grandpas snuff as he sneezed to the dismay of my granny and becomes suffused with flushing redness either due to the snuff or due to his wife's displeasure at his habits .
I can smell the dark rooms and its stuffy furniture's as along with my cousins we played games in the the darkness of the dusk
the wind would bring us the smells of the harvest as dark bronzed bodies of women laden with the weight of bundles on their heads thrash it on the floor and the grain shifts while the husk flies into oblivion and to our nostrils giving its bouquet to our senses
smells are our time machines to our childhood savour them
1 comment:
Great post:).reminds me of how a particular smell became almost an allergic factor to my son:). when he was very small, the first thing he used to do after getting up was to run to his Granma, my mil, who would be in the kitchen. he would run to her and then run back to me in double the speed:),because he would smell of onion in her apron. he started having a dislike for onion from that time itself and would gag even now if he finds a piece of onion in his food!! he says he is allergic to onion!! thanks, it was a nice fragrant post:)
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