Nostalgic Fragrances

Nostalgic Fragrances

It's been quite a while since I have posted anything and though I did have a couple of ideas on what I could write, I haven't had the time, nor was any presence of creative energy for me to actually sit down and type away my thoughts. So here's a little something personal that I've written after an extraordinarily long absence on this blog:

Among all the months, June seems to stand out for some particular reason that I simply cannot fathom. It's probably due to the extreme heat and unpredictable weather that I find myself eagerly waiting for moments where I can lie down and laze around all day, seeking every opportunity to escape from the brunt of the overpowering sun. It's also summer break, meaning I could binge through all the TV shows and books in my bucket list which I've held off for long, without feeling too guilty about wasting time for hours together. I always seem to have thoughts of the past or little reminders of my early childhood every now and then but recently, there's something else that June seems to bring memories of: My grandfathers.

Here's a little interesting fact: Both my grandfathers share the same birthday - 19th of June. When I was a kid, this little piece of information fascinated me quite a bit because despite being born on the same day of the month, there was quite a contrast in their personalities and ideologies.

My paternal grandfather was a man of quiet demeanor - he was very methodical in the way he carried himself and whatever he did. One could usually find him sitting on deck chair of sorts in the corner of the house or on the swing, newspaper or book in hand or watching some religious program on the television. He was very soft-spoken and friendly with family, friends and all. I always appreciated his sentimentality about things and the way in which he interacted with people. He used to wake up quite early in the morning and would tag me along to visit the nearby temple or to pluck jasmine and rose flowers from the plants on the terrace or the balcony's corridor. I still remember the distinctive design of the steel flower basket he would hold as we went around plucking these different flowers. My grandfather especially seemed to love the "parijat" or the "Night-flowering jasmine" flowers and would always stop to pick them up from the ground whenever we would go for walks out in the evening, since there's the belief that they aren't supposed to be plucked from the tree directly. He would collect these delicate flowers, put them in his shirt pocket and would then use them to adorn the shrines or divine figurines when we'd come back home. I've had this tendency to associate smells with certain memories or events - they seem to remind me of the past and all those moments each time I come across the scents. And to me, his memories are always associated with the fragrances of the precious parijat, jasmines and the vibhuti cubes he would always have in the pooja room. To me, his memories are reminders of his early morning hellos over a telephone call, his laughs, evening strolls in the colony and the rides on his scooter.

My maternal grandfather was very religious and appreciated wanting to experience the best of things. He loved visiting temples and would only wear the Raymond brand shirts and trousers. He worked really hard to ensure that all of his daughters got the best of whatever they could be provided with, be it schooling or heading to university. He too, would wake up quite early and do his pooja, with his chants involving almost all the names of the gods and goddesses from almost all of the temples you could think of. His pooja time though meant a fun thing for me personally as he would ask me to pick the nandivardhanam or the "Crepe jasmine" flowers and the kanakambaram or the "Firecracker" flowers. He would use the tamarind based paste and pitambari powder to clean the brass utensils and idols almost every other day. And his offering of prasad always involved a tiny plate with sugar crystals which always made me smile. I loved going around the corridor to look at the lily plants, the huge mango tree which bore gigantic mangoes and the curry leaf plants. He could be mostly found sitting on the sofa in the hall reading the newspaper or watching the news on the TV9 channel. We would also sometimes walk down the lane to the colony's temple where he would perform pooja for every single deity. He loved eating all things sweet and would never miss an opportunity to add palm sugar to all of his cooking - curries, dal and almost everything except rice. To me, his memory is always of the sandalwood fragrance from the Mysore Sandalwood soaps, the green colored Nova cream and the smell of incense sticks. 

Though they had different takes on how they viewed the world and how they lived their lives, they were both similar in certain ways too. They were both extremely hard-working, believed in the good nature of the society and helped people whenever they could. They were also fortunate to be surrounded by people who cared about them deeply and supported them in times of need. They had a huge influence with shaping my parents into who they are. The fragrances of parijat and Sandalwood along with the visuals of them walking around and going on about their days in crisp shirts and a dhoti or a neatly ironed pant will always be a reminder of their memories from my childhood and I miss them both very, very much.