The scent of a place

Last summer when I took it upon me to find my new place to live, I searched far and wide. I did not know what I wanted, but I knew for sure that it would feel right if it was right. After trawling through hundreds of advertisements, seeing close to a dozen, one hot Sunday afternoon I finally walked into what felt and maybe even ....smelt right.

I still remember reaching there, and the door was half open. I pushed it a bit more to have a quick peek, the first thing that hit me was ...well that smell. Ah! it wasn't good, it wasn't bad. But it was there. Even while I was being shown around, I couldn't resist thinking about what was that smell that I just couldn't place. Well, within half an hour, I had paid the deposit and had the keys in my hand. Two weeks later when I moved in with my bags and boxes, the keys would not turn. The van driver asked me if I was at the right house. And then, the lock turned, I flung the door open, and whiiiiiiif...there it was. Of course I was in the right place, I could have been blind-folded and I would still know I was there!

As I settled in, along with other stuff, I bought a little army of cleaning agents and air fresheners. That would do it, I thought! Over the next few days, I left the windows and even the doors open, vaccumed every nook and corner, and even washed all the upholstery (which was a big pain). Surely, it could not be that difficult to get rid of a little odour? But it persisted. It couldn't be neutralised, it couldn't be overpowered, not even with my strongest perfume. Every evening, as I entered the house, it was there. Subtle, not strong, not unpleasant, but surely present. What bothered me was I couldn't understand what it was, and even more that no one really noticed it but me.

Well, as time passed, I found myself making peace with the scent of the house. Okay, so it (the house) was here before me and it had some right to maybe have a bit of its own odour personality. So, I stopped trying. I retired the cleaners and fresheners and just let it be. And then the realisation – well maybe I had started liking it. Maybe I had always liked it, just did not recognise it, and waged war on it unnecessarily! Well, maybe it was the reason I actually agreed to place my deposit on a place in 30 minutes? (Okay, now that would be pushing it a bit too far...J) But, I found myself looking forward to it. Now, it was something I knew. It was like the new normal, just part of everything else in this world, just where it should be – in my living room.

As months passed, and summer gave into autumn and then winter, I had stopped noticing. I don’t quite remember when was the last time I’d entered the house and had been hit by that waft. It isn't there. Gone, just like that, without me having to do anything. And now, I sort of miss it. I could still never place it, but if I tried really hard, then.... it was like a concoction of an old library and a dark damp chapel with wooden pews, with a hint of old stowed away books, heap of dried leaves, a bit of incense maybe, and then that something that of course I could only recognise but never describe. (As a friend once suggested – no- it was not fungus, definitely not a dead body:-P) Well, whatever it was, it’s gone, and I’ll never know how to get it back.

It did for some time, at least, feel like the scent of home.