The fragrant air at dawn,
The scented first rays past the morning yawn,
The lingering chilly yet saccharine morning breeze,
The pine laden hint of coniferous trees,
The muddy yet odorous first rain of the season sweet,
The honeyed air of the twinkling starry fleet,
The syrupy smile of a little girl dear,
With her sweetened candy and bubble cheer,
We love them all! We love them all!
For they are scents of purity and innocence et al!
There is this
corner in my home, my favourite corner once, full of Barbie dolls and toys, all
from my childhood days. And for some reason every inch of it, the
scent of the dolls and teddy bears et al speaks of innocence and of cheerful years.
Maybe if that carefree life had a fragrance that would be it; always striking
the chord of a child’s growing up years.
Yes not too long
ago that very sweet scent of innocence could be felt, untainted, in the whiff of
every little girl’s candy and puppets. Yes, that of a girl child just about
knee high, who with a smiling face loved to flaunt her pretty pony tails adorned
by pink ribbons. And all you thought about after seeing her, happy and blithe, was
to take care of her. She ran around with joy and came to you with a heart full
of love devoid of any inhibitions. That was the portrait of a child, a girl
child you would most certainly hug and love. Picture perfect, isn’t it?
But that portrait is
now somehow wrecked and the once fragrant child, now lost. You can search and
search for the child but what lingers now is the dreadful odor of fear and
helplessness. What remains now is the foul smell of blood and gore, of pain and
hurt, of death and loss. Why you ask? Anywhere you go, whether the scenic hills
or the quaint azure shores, all that accompanies you now is the dreadful
reality and staunch smell of degrading humanity. For every other day, a child
and her innocence is torn apart, in fact snatched away, by demons walking this
earth. How can you and I then witness the joys of any girl child’s growing up
years? Or, even reminisce about it a few years down the line, when the present reeks
of menace and gloom?
With the passage
of each day, the world seems to be receding away from morality. Just today I read
about a 9 year old girl, just 9, found in slush, gang raped by her cousin brother
and his two friends. No, they didn't give her chocolate, milk or brownies. They
didn't protect her like brothers are supposed to. And they definitely didn't
treat her like a child is supposed to be treated. What they managed is to cross every possible
threshold of humanity by slashing her with knifes after their ravenous libido
was gratified! Or, was it at all?
This is the world we
live in today. How can you or how can anyone then revel in the scent of
innocence? How can we reminisce of the fragrant childhood which is all but lost;
what remains sadly is the sullied and sickening stench of rotting souls.
Every girl child
is like a pretty little flower blooming in your garden. Their trusting and pure
hearts are like those scented blooms. Can you imagine a garden with flowers,
all decayed and rotten? Or, a garden with flowers that refuse to blossom? Gloomy
and miserable isn't it, without the bright colors and the traces of their sweet
smell in your bow windows? If the decay in our souls, in our society’s soul is
not healed, then the day is not too far when every girl child would grow up
devoid of the fragrance of life, devoid of her sweet-scented childhood. If
things don’t change for the better, there will be a time when dolls wouldn't
remind one of the pleasures of being a child but the fear that came with it.
Today when I walk
to my doll house with my Barbie and Ken placed next to my old stock of toys,
the scent reminds me of the horror every parent must go through these days. It reminds me how even the prettiest dolls in the biggest of
houses may not guarantee pleasant memories. It reminds me of the shadowy
figures that lurk in the guise of brothers, friends and sometimes even fathers!
The sweetness of the scent of childhood is now accompanied by the bitter
realization of loss, the loss of our humane side.
So don’t you think
it’s time we fight to get the heady scent of childhood back? Isn't it time to
sprinkle the perfume of love, care and everything humane into our world, so
that our girls, all the young baby girls in our world, enjoy a carefree and
fearless future? Maybe then one day in the distant future they can reminisce about
it happily while holding on to their dolls, lost in the elusive scent of their blissful
Resolve as if from high above.
Adrift in the darkness of the night?
Nay! Never give up the fight!
Listen! Hear those merry giggles,
Stop! Witness those smiley freckles!
Oh yes for the scent, sweet and mild,
Of a happy and precious little girl child!