Forgotten fragrance from the Arabia

Posted by ConvexClix (Mumbai, India) on 15 December 2008 in Abstract & Conceptual.

She held that tiny glass bottle close to her nose. Peeping from inside the hijab her clear green eyes (a complete contrast to wrinkles around them) seemed to gaze into the infinite. She took a deep breath, as if to fill up her senses with the fading fragrance contained in that bottle. She looked up at him and at the endless stretch of sand behind him. He looked tired and looked at her with ample curiosity and hope as she gently put the bottle back on the counter besides her.

"This one is really old, I don't remember making this in a long time. And anyway this was not one of the best ones we make here. I can offer you better" She said in a low but clear voice. He responded with a dull smile "This is very special. No other would do".

"Wait here, I will try and find if you are lucky and a tiny bottle is still holding your luck somewhere".She poured him some Chai (Pronounced as Shai in Arabic) and offered him a make-shift stool to sit. He looked around the little shop. He had thought of it as a miracle to find this place still surviving in the middle of that vast desert. He fiddled with the small box kept near the counter. It looked so magnetic,it was colored deep red and had little glass discs and colored beads all over it.

"Be careful, its very delicate and precious" She came out just as he began swirling that box around over the counter. "You are very lucky" the old lady said, holding a tiny glass bottle in her wrinkled hand. He got up in excitement and she dabbed a dash of that thick, oily liquid on his wrist. He immediately recognized it. He brought it closer and took a breathful of those vapors he had been searching for what seemed like an eternity to him. He closed his eyes and all he could see was She, waving her hand and running around in their old house painted in white.

She held out her hand and patted his shoulders "This fragrance seems to be a part of some of your fondly cherished memories" and turned to put that box back in its place. "Is that all you got of this fragrance, I want more" he mumbled while carefully placing the bottle on the counter. "No son, thats the last I had. I can make you more of it but it will take several months and a lot of effort. How much of it do you want" she asked, looking into his eyes. "As much of it, that if I dab it everyday it lasts for my lifetime" he said looking out at a Fata Morgana(A mirage phenomenon named after Morgan le Fay, the fairy shape shifting half-sister of King Arthur).

"Two large bottles and it will take six months", she said wrapping that tiny bottle in a red velvet cloth

"I will come back.Its the last memory I have of her. No photographs or sketches, no voice records, no book pressed roses and no old letters" He paid her and walked out of the shop adjusting the straps his knapsack.

PS: Its a beautiful story in my thoughts, but my poor literary intellect couldnt do complete justice to the thought :(

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