Vanilla.

As what I consider the final day of the week is quickly bidding adieu, today I will post here the last pick from the endless list of things that I love.

The scent of Vanilla. Image

I haven’t been honest enough with most people about the real reason I took so fervently to this scent, it was a pen. 

When I was about 10 years of age,  I had one of those fancy Japanese produced vanilla scented pens named something really cutesy chiki chiki, tuki tiki, well you know, something of the sort (no offence meant to the Japanese but their names are hard for an Indian to remember!). I was a pretty silly kid I suppose and I always thought vanilla was only something you got as an ice cream flavor, and honestly, I thought the pen would have ink that smelled of a vanilla cone or something! But it didn’t, it had the most exotic smelling ink (well, exotic smelling anything I suppose!) I had ever whiffed. I thought it had the smell of coconut and caramel, or at least, a smell I imagine coconut and caramel should produce if they were mixed, but that pen was my first introduction to the scent of vanilla. 

That pen remained my olfactory nirvana for months, I was an odd kid, yes. However, I still remember that acute sense of adrenalin that rushed through my body when I held it up to my nostrils, it was more than the offspring of coconut and caramel, it somehow felt like tangible bliss to me. The pen had an antique white shade, that which I till today consider the exact hue of cushy and elegant ecstasy, and the smell transported me from my study desk and chair in my apartment in Kuwait to a place I cannot quite describe, for I do not believe it exists on this earth, it was a place only the contours of ones mind can behold. 

I lost the pen in a few months, but the torpedoing extreme combination of feeling serene (as I was named to mean in my native tongue) alongside wanting to burst, which only one scent ever gave me, never left. Every time I smell the container of my favourite Fruttini Vanilla body butter (which they have for some unknown reason stopped manufacturing!) or the so many tiny bottles of vanilla candles that mar the unseen crevasses of my room, a little space in my mind bursts open, and it is, a space where happiness is accomodated.

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