About half way through last week I realized that I have begun to smell like India. The fiery curries from the foods and sweet spices from the chai have seeped into my body so that my skin exudes the exotic aroma of this place. Each morning I awake to the now-familiar scent of a night's sleep under the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan. As I groggily lather myself in jasmine soap, I wonder how long it will be before my body reclaims the light "country linens" and fresh misty perfumes so popular in America. There is nothing soft about this Indian fragrance; it is rich and robust. It smells of complicated plurality and colorful mystery. For me it is both foreign and familiar. This is yet another sign of how India has claimed me... my mind, my heart, and now my body as well.
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