I never thought I'd smell of sandalwood

Growing up in India one can get used to the smell of sandalwood coming from everywhere, out of aggarbattis and temples, off peoples bodies. From my mother’s old jewellery box in which I stored shiny bits and baubles, the fragrance of the wood now only a faint whiff in the air.

But I never consciously annointed myself with sandalwood. In Bombay, being the child of non-religious, non South-Indian parents meant the forehead was not smeared with vibhuti or chandan (though the head was oiled religiously with a variety of evil smelling concoctions, a tradition I retain). I didn’t particularly like the stale talcum powder smell of sandalwood on other people either, except on Aai.

Aai was my Maharashtrian aunt’s mother, a devoted bhakta, singing the songs of India’s many poet saints, and devoted to loving people, a wellspring of endless gentle compassion. I would play with the flaps of old skin hanging from her arms, and she would laugh, kissing the top of my head. I would bury my head in the softness of her lap and smell the most delicious sandalwood smell in the folds of her sari.

In my teenage years I smelled of Trésor and Jil Sander Sun and once, memorably, like an old ambassador car-according to A, who was nuzzling my neck. If he had said that today, I would have swatted him and not cared, but in those early days of courtship that statement caused mortal offence. In my defence, I had just finished gardening duty or evening PE or some such thing. But overall, we were a combination of Trésor or Sun and Denim Musk; that is what we first smelled on each other. Sandalwood would not have appealed then.

We knew someone who so strongly smelled of sandalwood, I wondered if Veerapppan personally delivered the logs to his house.

In my first days in England as a student, arriving in the greyness of autumn, I was so homesick I threw up. I never realised it would be like that-after all I had been to England before and loved it. In my cousin’s house, there was a bottle of sandalwood essential oil. Put a few drops in your bath she said. You will feel better. And I did.

Since then, I have used sandalwood oil on and off in my bath and in my moisturiser, particularly when in need of comfort. At first A would complain, saying he felt like he was holding the someone mentioned above, but now he seems to like it. When he says I smell like a temple in Kerala he means it as a compliment!

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