Aroma

Aroma

One of the earliest memories of smell that I liked is that of coffee. Due to some reason we were not denied coffee even in our younger age. I remember drinking it at the age of 8 . The aroma of coffee getting filtered in our traditional steel filter and the tinkling sound of tumblers ( Stainless Steel of course ) would wake me up. A quick brushing of teeth would find me in the kitchen for my coffee.  But there was a chore connected with coffee that was not pleasant . It was often my job to take green beans to the shop and get them roasted and powdered ( ‘ filter ‘ coffee I would faithfully instruct the shop person so that he would grind it coarse ) . The job was not difficult. It would take 30 – 45 minutes. The problem was that invariably the ‘ bulav ‘ would come from mother / sisters in the evening when I would be busy playing cricket. Often I would be at the verge of getting my batting turn after a long wait. But Coffee is coffee and it could not be postponed and I would have to sacrifice my cricket and no one would care. Why can’t girls ( elder sisters ) do this ? What a question !

Coffee has been with me for as long as I can remember. In my hey days I have woken up my wife in the night and asked for coffee. She would prepare coffee in the dead of the night . ‘ ಹೆಂಡತಿ ಸಂತತಿ ಸಾವಿರವಾಗಲಿ ‘

Coffee – later – at Starbucks. Irrespective what one feels about Starbucks coffee ( better ones available etc ) , my fascination has been the aroma that welcomes you as you step in. I recall with fondness when Mythili was at her  previous apartment, I would go for a walk and at the end reward myself a prize. Sit and sip coffee in a Starbucks café which was just two minutes away from her home.

Now when I don’t get the aroma here in Bangalore, I sometime wonder ( with a little concern I should admit ) if I am slowly  losing my ability to smell.

Then there is bakery. Biscuits freshly baked in VB bakery in Sajjan Rao  Circle , Bangalore. For a long time it was my Gold standard for Bakery items. ಬೆಣ್ಣೆ ಬಿಸ್ಕೆಟ್ಟು , ಉಪ್ಪು ಬಿಸ್ಕೆಟ್ಟು , ಖಾರ ಬಿಸ್ಕೆಟ್ಟು, ಮಸಾಲೆ ಬನ್ನು , ಬೆಣ್ಣೆ ಜಾಮ್ ಬನ್ನು - ಒಂದೇ ಎರಡೇ   …. Wah. The aroma of a tray of freshly baked biscuits coming out of Oven would be irresistible.

Later, Bread in Mythili’s home was invariably delicious. She makes it from scratch and the sight of dough swelling is so good and the aroma of bread baking in the oven would fill the house.

Have you ever tasted ಮಿಡಿ ಮಾವಿನಕಾಯಿ ? Don’t exclaim - what a question ? Let me rephrase it. I am talking about ಜೀರಿಗೆ ಮಿಡಿ ಮಾವಿನಕಾಯಿ  . The aroma is so good and the taste of pickles matches that. One would eat everything – ಕಾಯಿ , ತೊಟ್ಟು , ಬೀಜ .

Then there is this anticipatory aroma. When Khus Khus ( ಗಸ ಗಸೆ ) is boiling it spreads a sweet and strong aroma which you could smell several feet away. I would take a deep breath and wait for ಗಸ ಗಸೆ ಪಾಯಸ .

I should not forget my daily ( lowly , unheralded ) ಉದ್ದಿನ ಬೇಳೆ , ಈರುಳ್ಳಿ , ಶುಂಠಿ  . Each one has a character of its own. And of course ಸಾರು - ಇಂಗು , ಸಾರಿನ ಪುಡಿ, ಉಪ್ಪು , ಹುಳಿ , ಕರಿಬೇವು , ಕೊತ್ತಂಬರಿ ಸೊಪ್ಪು , ಸಕ್ಕರೆ - ಹಾಕಿ ಕುದಿಸುವಾಗ  life is so good.

Lastly at the end of the day -  schedules gone wrong, analysis results don’t match tests, Dr Reddy is sniggering, design review is fast approaching , I keep wondering how to get a  loan for ear ( which one ) boring ceremony, will I or will I not make it to promotional interview and so many other earth shaking things  - you get down from the bus , one stop before the usual one – and the aroma of ಆಲು ಬೋಂಡ , ಮೆಣಸಿನ ಕಾಯಿ ಬಜ್ಜಿ  from my favourite shop near Uma theatre lifts my mood. After that I can face any problem !

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Perfumes have always attracted me.  Colloquially they are called ‘ ಸೆಂಟು  ‘ in Kannda . First one I ever bought was for Usha called Intimate. It was sold in Air India flights ( my trips to USSR ) probably at a discount. It was so good ( I knew no other ). Later Poisson, Kenzo came. So delicate. Sometimes it is there and sometimes gone.

I wish I had the means to try out Men’s perfume at that time

In the world outside, freshly cut grass has a sweet smell and you feel it is morning . It was generally in USA I would experience this. Not much of grass here anyway. Slightly pushed and in an imaginative mood  I could even think that given ‘ right’ circumstances  I would have become another Wordsworth ( it is always somebody else’s fault if I did not become one ).

At the end of a hot summer day, as day dies down, temperature drops, a slight breeze blows and brings in the scent of ರಾತ್ರಿ ರಾಣಿ flower from our garden. A tinge of sadness appears and I don’t know why.

Sometimes, summer also brings in a light rain in Bangalore. It wets the earth and an aroma , at once lifting our mood, emanates from the earth. If it rains hard it is gone. But when it lasts it is so invigorating. ಮಣ್ಣಿನ ವಾಸನೆ ಅಲ್ಲವೇ .

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A couple of years back I happened to go to my friend’s resort in Coorg. It was probably February but I can’t be sure. Coffee plants were blooming and a stretch was full of white flowers. Beautiful to look at and even more beautiful was the smell. Flowers last two weeks or so and then they are gone. I hope to make a trip next year. It is rather silly and sad that I , living in Karnataka , never experienced it till now.

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Completely different aromas and entwined with strong, delicate and wistful emotions  and often impossible to separate are these.

First ,  the smell of saree of my mother. We were already four children then and if sufficient attention was not bestowed on any one it was not unusual or unexpected. Sometimes I would wait impatiently for my mother to finish her work and come to me. I don’t remember any stories being told but have a distinct memory of the smell of her saree as I cuddle closer.

Second is the smell of woman you love. A cocktail of aromas and emotions ; heady mixture as it were . I will leave it at that.

The third is the baby smell. There is an aroma of the baby that is difficult to describe – a combination of milk and honey, sweet and heavy ; it combines with the smoothness of the skin and softness of the tender body. I often recall this of our children and live again with recent experience of Gundu. It brings tears.

Some tribes greet each other by sniffing their forehead. I feel like doing it with Gundu. There may be some primordial instinct in it !

Devotees yearn to see God, hear Him, feel Him. Some have even claimed to have done it /  experienced it in reality. But has any one smelt God ?