What does your Deepavali core memory smell like?

Close your eyes. Inhale. What do you smell? Not the grand, obvious things, but the whispers in the air, the ghosts of festivities from the past and the present. For a festival of lights, it is remarkable how deeply Deepavali is etched in our minds often as a potpourri of smells. CE set out to bottle this essence, asking Chennaiites to share the scents that define their Deepavali. The responses were not just a list of aromas, but a collection of core memories and personal histories from across cultures. A feast of fire For publicist Nupur Pagawad, Deepavali is a more visceral, thrilling, and sometimes frightening affair. Her memory is a bustling kitchen scene. The aroma of chakli, oil, ghee , sweets, and karanji comes to my mind the moment I think of Deepavali. But this culinary warmth is contrasted by another, more dangerous scent. Apart from the food, what strikes me the most is the smell of crackers. Nupur recollects, I once saw someone burn his eye while lighting a firepot, and during Laxmi Pooja, a rocket even set my window curtains on fire. Deepavali does scare me when it comes to crackers, but despite that, it still manages to light up the entire atmosphere. Her neighbourhood was a symphony of sizzling ghee from shankarpali and the sharp smell of gunpowder. She even detects the scent of the impending celebration in the very dust of pre-festival cleaning and the faint smell of sweat that signals Deepavali is on its way to make it hotter. Sacred smells For Manisha Nandy, a PR manager in Chennai, the mind travels past the sweets and the finery to something more elemental. The soothing and enchanting smell of oil-lit earthen diyas comes to my mind, she says. Her childhood memory is painted in the hues of devotion. Ours and neighbours home smelled like flowers and agarbatti . The herald of the festival, for her too, was the distinct smell of firecrackers in the days leading up to the main event. If she could distil this memory into a bottle, Manisha's personal Deepavali scent would be a profound blend of sandalwood, jasmine flowers, and smoky vetivar, evoking festivity, spiritual, calm, celebration, nostalgia, and sacred. She would name it Ananta meaning infinite. It symbolises the endless light of Deepavali diyas , she explains. And who would receive this bottled memory? I would give it to my better half because he is my Ananta, my endless love and inspiration. The changing traditions For Parul and Satyan Bhatt, Deepavali memories are a shared album, but certain scents and sounds stand out in high definition for each. When we were young and in school the first scent was that of crackers bursting. It used to start fairly early, say around 5 am in those days. Together, they describe Deepavali as an excitement that cannot be described. It is about new clothes, specially made food, the pujas , relatives thronging your home and of course the bursting of crackers, flower pots, rockets etc. They note that the festive atmosphere builds gradually, starting early from Dhanteras which is a special prayer for Goddess Lakshmi. However, they observe a distinct shift in this sensory and social landscape over the years. As we grow old, the enthusiasm and happiness has become slow, no relatives visiting, life has become tough and complicated unlike earlier years, they reflect. This change even touches the Deepavali kitchen, where health consciousness means, as Parul notes, the lady in the house [makes] only what is needed for the family. Yet, within this evolution, some things remain beautifully constant. Thankfully the religious ceremonies have not changed. The emotion, fervour, and correctness is still followed, they affirm. They add, Where the grandparents are there it is very obvious in the way pujas are performed. For the Bhatts, the essence of a Tamilian Deepavali remains a strong multisensory experience. They describe it as an experience of lights, colours, friends and families dining together, the sound of crackers which is only true in India during Deepavali and importantly prayers for everyones well being is the key to the grandeur of the festival. So this Deepavali, let the scents tell their story. Breathe it in the flowers, the ghee , the laughter, the ache. Somewhere in there, youll find home. A potpourri Beyond these detailed narratives, other voices chimed in with their own potent scent-memories, creating a collective olfactory portrait of the festival. The sanctity of gingelly oil for lamp lighting and the crispness of adorning a new dress. The indulgent sweetness of jalebi and gulab jamun competing with the earthy, traditional notes of adhirasam and murukku . The heady fragrance of mehendi and the clean scent of detergent while cleaning the house. The savoury notes of dosa and mutton kulambu and the reheating of paysam . Yet, nestled amongst these warm memories were other realities, the awful whisky/rum smell where my father drank in a tiny house, and the pervasive smell of crackers and chemicals, the residue of crackers and the overall smell of burnt crackers.