Endangered olfactory pleasures

On a visit to Trinidad at the end of September, one of my sisters and I went into a shop in Valpark. While purchasing our items, we had a lovely, long chat with the shop owners – a friendly couple, who spoke fondly of their grandchild, and of Christmas, Divali and “lighting up” for both occasions.

The husband/grandfather told us that this year for Divali the deyas he intended to use will have a wick in water, rather than oil or wax.

While it is amazing that water (apparently treated in some special way) can be used to get a flame going, we all agreed that nothing beats the “good old days” smell of deyas with wicks soaking in coconut oil.

Divali of the past will always be remembered by the joy of joining friends, the Sharmas, to light deyas at their home around dusk. As an aperitif is a drink taken before a meal to stimulate the appetite, the homely smell of coconut oil was like an “apersniff” preceding Mrs Sharma’s sumptuous vegetarian Divali dinner. After our nostalgic discourse on the scent of coconut oil and deyas, the Valpark shop couple mentioned that the sight and smell of grapes and apples on the nation’s streets was, at one point, a treasured harbinger of Christmas. It was the time that street vendors sold those fruits, which, not being local, were a special treat, available only at that time of the year. Now, however, they are commonplace, available daily, and their aromas no longer stand out.

This conversation caused me to think about different scents that, to me, seem less noticeable nowadays. For example, the experience of sniffing the air and detecting the scent of coming rain seems less intense; on beaches I visit, the scent of sea spray or sea grapes is no longer a strong coastal signature.

Freshly-mown grass is another scent that seems rare nowadays. Is it because most modern-day gardeners use weed-wackers, not lawnmowers, and wackers have a different effect on the grass blades, so they respond with less olfactory potency? Is it that the richness of the soil has diminished in urban areas and the undernourished grass does not have the rich aroma it once possessed?

I would not say my sense of smell has been weakened; I think the reduced perception of many of the enjoyable natural scents around us is occurring largely because of man’s increasing detrimental impact on Nature.

The effects of this include intense heating of the atmosphere (resulting in odour-forming bacterial gases travelling farther and faster with more potency, overpowering or nullifying naturally-pleasant atmospheric scents); environmental degradation, destruction and urbanisation (resulting in the loss of certain scent-producing vegetation and introduction of increased manmade pollutants and toxic odours); rapidly changing cultural habits (such as the deya example). These and more have affected the way life smells… and what remains to be smelled.

For example, what will remain of something as simple as the act of smelling book pages, now that more people read on their electronic devices and have a declining need or desire to use physical books?

The term bibliosmia (from Greek “biblion” – book, and “osme” – smell) refers both to the nostalgic aroma of old book pages, and the act of smelling them. This pleasure might fade into oblivion if e-books generally take over, as e-mail drastically diminished the need or desire to send snail mail. The smelling of books, which many of us might once have taken for granted, may one day be the trendy next-best-thing – that is, when someone invents a way for e-books to emit “book page” scents for those who wish to sniff their devices before reading.

Recently, while chatting with a friend, I asked her if she had observed smells that are not as prevalent as they once were. “You’re asking the wrong person,” she said, explaining that as she had had covid at least three times, her sense of smell had diminished drastically.

The strong connection between scent, memory and emotion can shape our moods and behaviours. Instead of (or in addition to) nationwide “scratch and win” lottery outlets, perhaps we can have “scratch and sniff” outlets or hubs where people go to experience olfactory escapes through pleasant memories and emotions stimulated by nostalgic aromas.

Scratch and sniff for the endangered smells of coming rain, old book pages, sea spray, coconut oil in deyas…