• cheerfulmadwoman 10w

    I still remember
    The smell of those little jasmines
    Tucked between my mother's long hair
    Whenever she pulls me in
    A long, warm embrace.

    My father's sweaty shirts
    Released an odour I avoided once,
    But now, I reminisce them always
    Beside the gratitude for his sweat and toil.

    My mouth waters so bad
    When the oh-so-familiar aroma
    Of spices and love
    Emanates from the little stove in the kitchen
    The soothing scent of coconut oil
    From those graying hairs
    And the wrinkled hands of my grandma
    Kneeling the dough with practised perfection.

    I wish I could forever remember
    The orange candies and their tangy scent
    Which my grandpa extends
    After a long wait, and his long day at work.
    Oh! How I'd run to meet him at the doorstep
    Eager to open his closed fist with my tiny hands!

    The smell of petrichor
    Of the first rains my brother and I
    Drenched ourselves in
    Without telling our parents!
    And how badly we were scolded
    Tucked under stubborn blankets
    While tossing and turning in fever afterwards.

    I still flinch, recalling
    The pungency of the cough syrup
    Pushed down my little throat after hours of force and tugging!
    The smell of old books recovered from the attic
    Which I caressed, like my little siblings
    Maybe with a little more love.

    People say, smells are manifestations of memories.
    Indeed, they keep them alive
    Whenever they're lost in between
    the chambers of our aging heart.
    ©cheerfulmadwoman

    #smell #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod #mirakee_pod #tanzread @iammusaafiir @asmakhan @vaayu_rajput @tomorrow_is_amazing @love_whispererr @yogi_writes @geraldine_mary @laughing_soul @words_by_serene

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