
On a road journey in India, one cannot miss seeing lucky charms of lemon and green chillies dangling behind the wind-shields of lorries. It seems there is more to this than mere faith. A new study from the UK shows that the refreshing fragrance of lemon improves driving and, more significantly, reflexes like applying the brakes at the right time in difficult situations.
Smells have a lasting impact on us. They survive longer in our memory because when inhaled they sink into every cell of the brain and become part of our subconscious. That is why familiar smells of a long forgotten past are redolent of nostalgia.
Fragrance is a mood elevator too. The healing properties of smells have opened a new line of treatment called aroma therapy. Taking a cue, the National School of Design, Ahmedabad, is reportedly, working on a new uniform for cops, which would be scented with rose and lemon. I am sure it would add a new dimension to regulation khaki.
Talking of mood elevation and romance, could there be a fragrance headier than those thrown up by the passing Indian seasons? From the cool fragrance of khus in summer to that of the wet earth and the parijat flower in the monsoon, and from the refreshing whiffs of the flower of the Indian cork tree in winter to the intoxicating scents of spring, Indian seasons are a never-ending olfactory delight. The variations dictated by geographical locations only go to enhance them.
In Madhya Pradesh, where I grew up, spring comes floating on the air fragrant with mango and mahua blossoms. Here, in Ahmedabad, it is heralded by the wholesome air of the neem blossom. In this season, if you arrive by air, its strong smell greets you the moment you step out of the plane.
But as spring carries on, the fragrance of the neem blossom makes way for two other scents 8212; those of the champa and the shirish flowers. They grow in such abundance in the soil of Gujarat that a bunch of either brings spring right into your drawing room.