Of Memories and Smells

The human psyche and smells have a very weird connection- something frivolous as a whiff of perfume from a passerby can transport us to a time or a person that now exists only in our memories. Being a biology student, I know that this is the amygdala and hippocampus of my brain asserting their importance in my trivial existence. But being the emotional fools that we are, these flood us with a plethora of emotions, good, bad and beautiful.

The smell of frangipani transports me to a time long bygone- of our grandma’s home, of fun times climbing the guava tree and swinging on the mango trees with our little feet dangling ever so dangerously over the ledge of the wooden plank that served as the seat of the swing. Suspended by nondescript yellow ropes, the wooden plank of a swing was a thing of great joy for us. We fought for our turns on it and we fell down numerous times from it, trying to fit two of ours’ little bums on the said swing. The house now sports a very different look, under fresh coats of paint and new flooring, with the trees being cut down due to its savage branches extending till the terrace, and causing a major safety concern for the tenants. But Frangipani is all those bitter sweet memories for me— of a happy, playful childhood with no cares to be given!

Figure 1: A frangipani I picked up while walking back home after dinner with my cousin

Cuticura talcum powder is something I’m sure we all associate with the soft comforting arms of our grandmoms. The age old orange and white cylindrical tin is like childhood in a container! Our grandma was a very plump and stern woman whose soft side she would only occasionally reveal to us, and this included snuggling on to her ample tummy cradling her arms. The waft of Cuticura powder would engulf us in absolute comforting bliss while we lazed around content on her lap, sometimes fighting for more space with each other. Today, none of us cousins will dare to pick a bottle off the rack (if it’s still available, that is!) for fear of all these memories gushing in and taking us in its inexplicable bind. Memories which we can no longer summon on a particularly bad day to cheer us up. So, we hold on to each other, forming the best links to childhood that we possibly can. And that according to me is a far better way to honor and relish those wonderful times bygone! J

Figure 2: Still as dysfunctional as ever!