Life in a Whiff
There is an old shop in my home town that sells spices . I used to visit it along with my Grandfather when I was a kid.Every time I walk past it, my childhood passes before me leaving me in
a trance. Memories which we think are lost and gone come racing by when you get
the faintest sense of a scent associated with it.
It’s said the taste of anything sumptuous
that we have has a lot to do with its aroma.
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The whiff of Cold lies in the lap
of a winter night and the scent of Summer is wrapped in the gentle wind that passes
through the sun and the sand in a beach.
Knowledge lies hidden in the time locked fragrance of the pages of an old book. Divinity manifests itself in the incense of candles.
If ever we were to come close to understanding
the fragrance of heaven, it will be through the pleasantness that emerges from the Earth’s within when it bathes in the first Monsoon rain.
Still, scent remains the most unsung of
all the senses. My be because, it defies our attempts to depict it. Neither can we brush it
across a canvas nor can we lock it in a symphony. Words fail us when we try to
describe it neither are actions of much help.
Like the numerous wonders of nature, there lies the whiff of life, in
the elusiveness of the whiff itself.
Arun Babu.
Arun Babu.