My Treasure

Its been a while since I last wrote and have been wondering what to write about next... Wanted to try out writing a story. A short one but none the less longer than anything I've penned, no typed, lately. I started on something. But then am not comfortable publishing it.. So have kept it archived till the moment I feel I can show it to the world or finally send it to its resting place in the trash.

And so I have been looking for something to write about. And at some point side-tracked and started wondering what material possession has been with me the longest. And got a surprising answer - a small stick of sandalwood. It has had a very interesting and long journey.

My uncle used to work in the construction business. At one time they were building somewhere close to sandalwood forests in Karnataka. There was something about smugglers trying to get away with a truck load of sandalwood and getting caught and my uncle somehow landing up with a few chunks of the sandalwood. My mother being my uncle's sister obviously ended up getting some of it. And me being my Mom's precious younger one got the benefit of it.

I have always loved the smell of sandalwood -- not the overpowering perfumes or soaps; but the real deal - ground out fresh sandalwood paste. It smells divine. Its probably the only thing that I ever had the patience to sit and grind. And so every once in a long while I end up pulling out this small marble slab I have and the sandalwood stick and grind out some paste and apply it to my face. And sometimes I end up sleeping with it still on my face. The smell sticks on the pillow and I keep getting whiffs of it for long after.

It happens that I have had these two pieces, the sandalwood stick and the little slab of marble with me from when I first left home for my undergrad studies. They have traveled with me since, crossing seas and ended up on the continent of N America. From the grungy apartment in New Brunswick, NJ to the fancy locations in Bay Area, CA. In all that time almost forgotten but packed away safely while moving. I rarely use them; but for the few times I do remember and pull it out, its worth all the extra care I assign for it.

Lost in the cares of the present, it has been more than a year since I last pulled out the piece of sandalwood and smelled it. My sandalwood has a long long journey left to travel before it finally gets ground down to nothing and rests in peace.