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14 Sep 2011

The Saga Of Smells

My roommate calls me a dog.
Sometimes because she doesn't like me, sometimes because we have more dogs than human beings at home.

But mostly because I have a super-sensitive nose.
Meaning the sense of smell is hyper-important in my life.
So much so that I associate smells with memories, I find comfort in familiar smells, I smell every most things before I buy/eat/drink/use them.


For eg: While I'm walking to class, I can name almost every single perfume or deodorant that every passing person is wearing (or God forbid, not! Egh *making face*)
So you get the point.

Anyway, sitting in the night canteen, sipping coffee after a particularly horrible Monday, watching the clouds play oliche-kande (hide-and-seek) with the mountains, I made a list of smells I love, mentally, in order to restore a semblance of order in my mind (yes, that is one way, the other is talking to myself inside my head, wondering what you are doing reading a loon's blog yet?:P). Here I am putting it down for you guys to read, so you can confirm or deny my close resemblance to the canine family/identify with.

1) The smell of our night canteen (inter-mingled aromas of machine coffee, puffs, fresh Lays packets, cream buns and stuff)
2) The smell of new note paper (one reason I miss school because I buy all of one notebook a year in college).
3) The smell of freshly bathed dogs (the clinical soap smell with that not-THAT-dirty-anymore doggie whiff)


4) The smell of his tee (one that lulls me to sleep some nights)
5) Smells of people I love; each different and unique and a mix of their soaps, deos, creams and their natural fragrance all put together to help me lend comfort in my existence (Amma's, Indu's)
6) The smell of a plain bar of chocolate (it just sits there, smelling of something oh-so-wonderful and begging me to pick it up; I have gone bankrupt certain months spending so much on chocolate alone)


7) The smell of paint/freshly painted surfaces (you may think this is weird, trust me it gets worse)
8) The smells of petrol, naphthalene balls and Fevicol (specifically these; I get them in bottles/packets and keep smelling them till somebody knocks me on the head, gives me a lecture on narcotic substances & health and parts us)
9) The smell of the library (du-uh! tons and tons of old, weary books, what more can anyone possibly want?)


10) The smell of cold air (do NOT ask, there IS a scent)
11) The smell of tiny kitties (when they curl up against you and purr like they have an auto rickshaw inside their stomachs)
12) The smell of Johnson's baby powder and everybody who smell like it.
13) The smell of pavizhamalli in the night. I don't know what it's called in any other language.


14) The smell of fluffy rabbits and somber cows (closest I can get to Mother Earth, according to me)
15) The smell of old clothes from the attic.

These, apart from the usual smell of rain, freshly mowed grass, pillows, own room, food in a restaurant when I'm desperately hungry and... you see where I'm going?

But then, you can imagine how this particular habit (for lack of better word) of mine can quite easily turn into the worst thing that ever happened to me - think in terms of rotten fish, crowded buses at peak times, guys coming back from a very 'energetic' game, people who are allergic to water/regular baths, accumulated garbage in the street corner, four-day old milk left in the coffee mug over the weekend by a roomie who strongly believes in the art or procrastination and so on.

So.
Am I a dog?

P.S: Reshmi Varma (of the bride fame) wanted me to tell the world (or my 150-odd followers) to know that she's growing up and cleaning her room ALL by herself:) Just saying.
P.P.S: I have a new header, should I wait till my blogoversary to put it up or change it in a coupla days.