The Scent I Still Wait for Every Eid

Some people leave us in Silence

But some fragrances make them feel close again

My younger brother was always the first to be ready every Eid morning.

Before the mirrors became foggy and misty with steam, before the kitchen came out with the aroma of biriyani and saffron, before that, the family came together for photos — he would be standing by the door in his freshly pressed white kurta.

Before he leaves for Eid day prayers, like always, he never forgets one thing.

His perfume.

I remember having seen a small glass bottle on his bookshelf.

Something Sweet. Dark. Mysterious.

But even though he used it only on special occasions for the observance of Eid, the scent would remain in the house long after.

Warm Agarwood.

Soft Sweetness.

It was a Soothing, Rich, Smoky Aroma that left an Impression!

I didn't then realise the importance of fragrance for him.

But now I do.

Because fragrances remember what people try not to lose.

For many months after he was no longer there, no one came anywhere near the perfume bottle on his shelf. It remained where he left it before that last Eid, a bit inclined by his watch he regularly wore. At times, passing through the room, I would stop, and just for no reason, as I would imagine I would hear him behind the closed door, again.

Following his death, Eid's life will never be the same again.

Our house was still joyous with laughter.

Family members continued to come, bringing Party accessories and gifts with their smiles.

There was still much food and chat at a dining table that was full to overflowing.

But between the silence of the prayer hall and the bustle of the family room, I can experience an emptiness that nobody talked about.

The one that sneaks around you.

Losing someone during the happiest moment can be odd, because even though there's a part of you that's confused, lost, and grieving, the world is partying and singing about what it's like to be with them.

All the Eids following seemed as if they were kind of half celebrations. Not visibly. Not loudly. It's the little things—I miss one of the laughs, one spot in family pictures, and one familiar scent of perfume wafting down the hall.

On an evening before Eid, while surfing through fragrances online, I stood across Sere Oriental Extrait De Parfum from Sere Perfume.

French-inspired. Oriental woody. Deep and warm.

It was noted that herbs include olibanum, honey, and Agarwood. These notes reminded him of what he had opened at the time of Eid.

For me I feel like something about it felt familiar before I had even opened the bottle.

The next time I sprayed it, the time slowed down.

For one second, it felt like it was that very time when my brother had been walking in front of me, on an Eid morning.This Fragrance Conveyed the Same Quiet Confidence he had.

Warm. Elegant. Comforting. Not Overpowering. Just unforgettable.

It suddenly brought all of the memories back:

His voice calling out from the hallway,

the laughter before the taking of family photos,

the smell left behind on his kurta post prayer,

the hugs,

the late-night drives for Eid,

the sensation of having everyone present.

I just stood with my perfume, which has the same memory for a long time that I can never forget.I still had the scent on my sleeve after I had gone to bed that night. The silence of the Eid was no longer dark this year, and for the first time in years. It felt familiar. It was as though memory became its own ship and had returned home.

After all, sometimes, a perfume is more than a luxury.

At times, it manifests as an unforgettable memory.

From now on, each Eid, with the blessing of Allah, I'll wear it upon leaving home too.

I Spray on my Wrist.

One on the collar.

Like he used to,

I feel like -

He seems to be near again.

Some odours go away within a few hours, but some will stay with us for life, like a memory.