A Sense of India

I've been back for a few weeks now, but wanted to share a sort of journal entry/blog from my trip. I think it conveys the part of India that you can't research on the web or document with camera and video.

Thursday, August 10, 12006 – A little after midnight

During the first 24 hours of this trip, I experienced serious doubts during certain moments as to whether I was really in India or not. It just didn’t feel like it, and in many ways it didn’t look like it. It sounded a bit like it, and it tasted a bit like it, but not enough to imprint upon my mind that I was really here, on the other side of the world, in the place where my family comes from and still lives. However, as one may recall from any biological studies, the sense of smell is what ties us most closely to memories and the reliving of experiences, and today brought proof of that several times over;

The musty dewy haze of scent that fills the house from the morning air; the crisp flowery breeze that passes among us as we savor our spicy warm soothing cups of chai; the traffic, as it builds with the base of petrol and diesel; smoke from tailpipes, and the many variety of scents that pour into the streets from stores opening for the day;

The sharp fibrous musk of racks of “Made in India” clothing that line the walls of the fanciest boutiques as well as the most local corner shops; the antique-y rich scent of crepe, silk, and georgette saris being unraveled one after the other, providing the most tangent ebb and flow of the “latest fashion Madame” chant; the return to traffic, now midday, with a huskier tone that is at times preferred to be received through the window against the chlorine-like emanation from the vehicle A.C.;

The rainbow of aromas wafting through the produce section of the crisp new supermarkets, with all of their exotic as well as commonplace origins; the warm toasty smell of Indian-Chinese cuisine, carrying sweet and spicy in perfect harmony; the gentle night breeze, which feels refreshing even when polluted with excessive traffic odors, because it has most likely come after a rain – perhaps brining us of to one the most unique scents of mid year in Hyderabad. The rain starts slow, possibly downpours, and leaves a fresh natural incense which pats all non-agreeable odiferous ness into the ground. But as the mud and roads dry, the scents, smells, aromas, odors and musks of every city dweller within a square mile are released, and a new cycle of olfactory delights begins. Every scent has a story, and every story taps a heartstring. This was the India that I remembered, and I am happy to know that there is much more of it to come.