Smells of a city

Text and Photographs by Anusha Narayanan

Every city has a peculiar smell. Every street has one. In Delhi, it would shift between the hot steam rising from the tarred roads, smog, smoke from vehicles - and then drift to the smell of Gulmohar trees, Raat Raani (night jasmine) in the dark of the evenings, or the spread out banyan tree and the tall (useless) Eucalyptus. (Does it have a smell at all?) When you go to the south of Delhi, it is the smell of food - of Hamas and Shawarma, the thick Mango shakes, the Puchka and Ghugni Chaat of C R Park, the concrete of Nehru Place and Sandstone of Mehrauli. And in the rains my nose can not avoid the smells oozing from the drains and Delhi Municipal Corporation garbage bins.

Mehrauli, Delhi © anusha

In Baroda, it is the smell of earth – dust and construction and occasionally, the smells of fruits, savouries and sweets that overwhelm you. The lack of trees in Baroda (ironically Vadodara - the official name of the city, meaning the land of "vad" or banyan trees) gives it a stuffy, breathless feel overall, with not much of a breeze except near MSU or Shiv Sagar Lake. But Faafda and Jalebi in the mornings and Pani Puri and Dabeli wafting in into the nostrils in the evening - the smell of rolled up steamed Patra, and the five rupee soda clearly make Baroda, the city where I can smell food everywhere.

In Ahmedabad - it is sadly the smell of smoke and only smoke that I remember. Except for the evening spent with a friend on the Sabarmati Riverfront with cute little birds that flew dangerously close to our heads, flapping fast towards water and back, about 3-4 inches in size - other than that the smell of smoke and tides of hot air is all I remember. Of course there was good food too - in Manek Chowk - where your nostrils get tentalised with Amul Butter's fragrance. This night-market, any foodie's heaven, opens at say 8:30 pm and goes on till 2:00 am, serving delicacies prepared in butter, garnished with butter, to be had with the side-dish which is... That Is Right - More Amul Butter! I don't remember more smells here, sadly.

Sabarmati Riverfront, Ahmedabad © anusha

Mumbai – It is an explosion of smells! My first few days in Bombay were during the months of monsoon; the famous/infamous Mumbai Monsoons. And I had a front-row seat to a city that smelt like a drain be it any business park or the local station. In the local trains – you smell people's armpits and sweat, and the dirty clogged tracks that run alongside. But after you exit, and start walking towards your office, there is first the smell of food – poha, sheera, upma, pakodas, wada-pao and idli saambhaar. These play in tandem with the smell of fresh fruit juices, fruit salads and veggies - all ready for the homely buyer and the perpetually-running Mumbaikar. There is always the smell of fish from the machhi-bazzar and milk from the strong-cutting-chai shops. The soft temptation of a wada-pao – the true miracle dish that remains dry throughout the year, come rain or shine – is the one khushboo I can never get enough of, in Mumbai. The temple peeping out of the street corners, tucked invisibly into the crevices, exude the sweet smell of incense sticks, of sandalwood, jasmine and rose, every evening during aarti time.

Marine Drive © anusha

And finally, as my love and hate for the Smells of Cities – or should we call this a mini-ode to the Smells of Mumbai – comes to an end, as a true Panwadi there are three things that I can never get enough of. The smell of a cigarette which is irritating, pungent and strangely marinated with the emotions of every human smoking it. And then, the smell of the sea. Near Peddar road, past the Haji Ali dargah, the sea threatens your nose with its heavily-saline and pregnant-with-acquatic-life kind of smell. The same sea smells of the blank canvas which you stare into at Marine Drive. Lastly - how can I forget this - the smell of old wooden staircases and ceilings of the buildings of Fort. The mind makes a trip through the stories of all those people who must have trodden up and down those stairs - the busy bees that built Mumbai over the decades. The smell of Fort is my true addiction.

Fort, VT © anusha