A simple organ called the nose,
Thought its purpose was just to pose,
Little did I know it’s the main show,
The small appendage keeps mind and body in tow.
I lost my sense of smell,
Now everything is the same to tell.
Can’t smell the morning breeze to empower,
No scent in roses and jasmine flower,
Not a whiff of fresh coffee filtered,
Not a sniff of the bubbling dishes flavoured,
As, I lost my sense of smell,
Now everything is hard to differ and tell.
No trace of salt in the boiling pot of broth,
No odour from balm to wish the headache away and calm,
No hint of sweetness in the freshly baked cake,
No incense that fills the nostrils to completer the prayer.
For, I lost my sense of smell,
Now every breath is same boring and dull.
No smell of the garbage from overflowing bin,
No stink from the leaking gas stove in the kitchen,
Not a hint of old rotting fruits and vegetables,
Not a whiff of the burnt milk stuck to the vessel,
Now, I lost my sense of smell,
Now no odour is good or bad to tell.
It seemed such a small sense organ,
I took the sniff out of the perfumes for granted,
Surely, I now know its significance, enough to make amends,
As soon as my sense of aroma is reinstated.
Sreeyantha is a person who sees the world in all the colours of the rainbow. A creative homemaker who wishes to capture the universe’s beauty in poems, paintings and short essays. You can read a collection of her poems here.
Featured image credit: Trude Jonsson Stangel/Unsplash/Editing: LiveWire