Books and Fragrances

Interest doesn't stir in me for just about anything. It takes a deep long while to let its grasping face come to surface. I need to crawl in my safe alcove, like a baby in her mother’s lap, put all the sound devices off and believe that life is only one thing, the one I'm involved in at the moment. Though once I get accustomed it becomes a velvety silken thread, effortlessly draped on a dummy.

Taking example of Reading, one of the several little things I heart to bits; a book, if written well, can transport me to a distinct world altogether. I don’t have to long for company then, the way I do while watching movies and playing Scramble. All I need to do is wriggle in those tiny black & white letters and feel them in my bones. Those blameless words don’t shove me if I make a mistake, nor do they burden me with extra responsibilities; they only enrich me with profound knowledge. At times they have such an influence, I replicate them in my dreams, over and again, every time with the same seriousness.

Such is the power of a good Book and of course, a good Writer.

Call me over-ambitious but I want to gift myself a library someday. A stack full of my favourite books dolled up as per themes and genres in a perfectly-lit room with glazing radiance over the glass windows. I would sit there for hours together and forget about everything. Just dig myself in the pages’ and read all-day long.

I’d share an old-incident here, one from my creative writing classes. This teacher who used to teach us picked unusual creative ways to gather attention. Her classes were terrific, with ideas ceasing to end. Once she bought old books and scarves, the latter smelled of some serious perfume, like left unwashed for days. She passed the two around the classroom, asked us to select either and write what the smell reminded us of. Taking a moment I penned about the purple-coloured linen scarf. The alluring scent recapped of a secluded beach, like a passive encounter with artful décor and lingering stillness; a solemn corner in the Bahamas where I’d go and enjoy the pretty luxuries of life. Had I picked the book, I’d have written about one of the rituals at some wedding. It had brief notes of saffron and sandalwood, maybe ylang-ylang too. She knew we’ll be hooked and she wasn't wrong.

Such is the power of a good fragrance and of course, a good imagination. 

Hey there reader, what do you think about books and fragrances?