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Saturday, August 17, 2013


This post is written for Smelly to Smiley Ambi Pur contest (Indiblogger)

We often take little things for granted. Fail to observe the trivial things. But they are stored deep down somewhere. Every corner in the house we have been living and spending all our time is filled with memories. It is also filled with innumerable smells, and every smell or fragrance has a memory attached to it, some moments which are special or not so special; but yet which have a deep place in our heart. Some fragrances which unknowingly rekindle memories long forgotten.Smell and memory go hand in hand, they are stored together in the brain.
Consciously or sub consciously every smell or fragrance has some thing to say, some significant memory.
Today evening when I lit an incense stick which spread the aroma of Mogra flowers (Jasmine) everywhere in my home, I sat back relaxed and felt good instantly. I love this feeling. At the same instance the door bell rang, as if to disturb me from my serene state. Unwillingly I got up to open the door and see who was this intruder. It was one of my close friend and as soon as she came in and got a whiff of Mogra, she commented that I am obsessed with Mogra and should be a brand ambassador of it.
Well to tell the truth - My entire house smells of Mogra. You will find whiffs of Mogra incense in almost all my perfumes.
Almost all my air fresheners and fragrances have notes of Mogra.
"Why this attraction to Mogra?" she prodded me further.
Instead of answering her question I was lost in my memories. I was lost in my childhood. I was engulfed in a happy protected cocoon. For me Mogra means home, the eternal love, my parents, my childhood home, a treasure trove of memories.
I was introduced to this fragrance quite early in life, they say a baby can smell since the time he/she is in his/her mother's womb. So I guess that's how I was introduced.
Born and brought up in a Maharashtrian family where garlands made of Mogra adorn the hair of the ladies. They are the symbol of love.
My father on his way back home after work every evening used to get Garland of Mogra for my mother without fail. This was a ritual. The ritual of their love for each other. He giving it to her and she very lovingly sporting it on her hair with pride. Their love made everything so loving around them. The whole family chatted over cups of chai(tea) and pakodas(snacks), played games or went out for a stroll with the fragrance of Mogra lingering all around us. The fragrance of Mogra mixed with spices of the kitchen is what my mother smells like even today. For me this is the best fragrance ever in my life, the Fragrance of my mother, the fragrance of my childhood, of my parent's eternal love, of their presence, a happy childhood, comfort, peace, life, love. Even today my father gets Mogra garland for my mother and the ritual continues the difference is that I am not physically part of that childhood magic. I try to recreate that magic, their eternal love, their presence now at my own home with the Mogra smell and get lost in my own tranquil oasis of beautiful memories and also take inspiration to carve some of my own such memories along the way.
As if to shake me from my thoughts my friend asked me again " are you even here?"

I answered her as if answering my own question- Yes I am. and you are right I am obsessed, deeply in love and completely addicted to Mogra(with a wink and a smile). She was left as confused as ever.


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