Gajra – Jasmine flowers strung together

A memory came alive today on International Mother’s Day

Our senses are precious. We remember people through our senses. If I were to explore my memory and look for traces of my mother, I would find it in innumerable sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and even touch. From these, if I were to choose just one memory for each of these senses, it would be really hard. However, introspection is a funny thing. Thinking about these senses, I have suddenly remembered jasmine flowers or gajra, and I instantly associate it with my mother. Perhaps because it evokes all my senses.

I close my eyes and see two beautiful white gajras, almost pearl-like jasmine flowers strung together in what is called a gajra, nestling within a big green leaf. The gajras have been sprinkled with water to protect them from Bombay’s often harsh humid heat. 

Mummy picks one gajra. As soon as she does this, its fragrance permeates the room. She gently adorns her hair with it. As she does this, her glass bangles start making a chan-chan noise. The gajra frames her hair bun as if it were a piece of art.

Mummy always buys two gajras, one for herself and one for PapaMa. She hands over one to PapaMa and says to me, “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” I look at her hair bun, so elegantly adorned. I gently run my fingers over her hair. I want to keep doing this. I love the soft texture of the gajra against my hand. But mummy has things to do, so she quickly gives me a tight cuddle and leaves the room, leaving behind a whiff of the gajra. 

Sweet, kind and comforting, just like her.