India, you have infiltrated my senses

…to be wrapped and cradled in an enchanting scent upon your skin is a magic all on its own…― C. JoyBell C.

I have the smell of India in my hair. I’m unwilling to wash it out. It’s warm and intoxicating. It’s a musky dry smell of sun-baked clay, of dusty books, of sandalwood and a hint of rose. There are remnants too of mouth-watering street food with notes of coriander and tamarind. A touch of smoke from wood fires and the breeze of mountain air linger still.

Oh India, I wore you on my skin and in my hair for, but a moment and you have infiltrated my senses and lodge now firmly in my memory. I am infused with you. Swathed thus I will draw upon these cues to ferry me back to you, until I walk again on your surface and among your people.

10 thoughts on “India, you have infiltrated my senses

  1. Ah, Shannon, you write and photograph from the heart and you are making me yearn to visit this place that until recently had never even been on my radar. Thanks for all of your beautiful sharing. Big love and hugs to you xx

  2. I am so late again I apologise. Photos are amazing such an atmospheric description, India sprinkled in your hair . I completely understand that because it’s happened to me …I’ve never been to India though…yet . 😊

  3. Sometimes it’s not people that inspire us but the surrounds of a place so beautiful, so captivating that it remains in your heart, your soul, your memories forever.

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