SMELLS-part.1

MUMMA:
Infrequent bouts of a rarely used tea rose perfume. Cheap talcum loosing all its talcumness under the struggle of her daily motherhood. Pungent “Sunday-mehandi” odor wafting,rather shamelessly,over a seasonally flaky scalp. Fetish for rubbing borolin over an always parched upper lip (the one in the green tube..Weird..do they still make those)? Skin scrubbed, almost ruthlessly, clean of all grime and some youth; courtesy a religiously followed-beyond my comprehension-bathing regime. Bobble belly akin to the back of a baby’s head (sundry scent of a baby powder and a pricey milk formula) perfect to burry your head on those sick and tired evenings, wishing you were on the other side, cursing the moment when you decided to try pushing out. Oily pakoras on rainy afternoons, ruining the deep pretty gashes on the insides of her palm. Some “kachi ghani sarson ka bullcrap” making a dreadful gulch out of her ‘line of fate’. An old bottle of special tankari-ittar hidden deep behind her closet. The last thing her grandmother left her, only to be used on those special occasions, never even used once.