The month of November brings a new fragrance in my bathroom, the smell of glycerine soap! This is one of those smells that has remained constant in my life. My dad who is very particular about which soap to use during which season, (we keep teasing him about it!) hardly experimented in the winters! It was always glycerine, he tried quite a few brands but ultimately remained loyal to one of the traditional Bengali ones. I realised how i got conditioned to the ritual when i moved in with Utsav two years ago. Whether i shopped at Spencer's or the local grocer, anytime after November, i invariably bought the same brand!!
The strong but pleasant smell takes me to a bitter-sweet roller coaster ride through the many winters i spent in my Lansdowne Chakraberia home. I remember mamma peeling oranges for us at our terrace. My sister and i often did our homework on the terrace too, which ended with a game of ludo where our ayah (boudi, we called her) joined us!
I remember papa almost chasing us to the terrace the moment we came out of the bathrooms with shampooed hair! 'Chhate jaa' he screamed, he wouldn't tolerate his daughters catching a cold! However, no matter how much she stays protected, my sister always managed to catch one, nevermind the season!!! I remember our daily quarrels about the speed of the fan in our room!
I remember peeling kilos of fresh peas for those amazing matar kachoris!
I remember the beautiful crysanthymums and pulsatinums that papa grew so passionately.
I remember the trips to New Market for Christmas decorations and the sinful rich plum cakes! The trips to the Zoo, Victoria Memorial Gardens, annual flower shows...i remember them all.
It also takes me to our annual holidays to Mumbai and Ahmedabad. I remember how Mahim dressed like a bride during the Christmas week.
Its amazing how a particular fragrance brings so many memories to our minds, memories so fresh that it feels like 'just yesterday'.
Thank you Papa, thank you for the glycerine-soap-months, for the wonderful winters, specially for me. It means so much more now.
Love you, Papa.
