My first brush with perfumes was not through my mother’s vast collection of exotic-looking bottles but through my maternal grandmother. She was a deeply religious woman who would spend hours in prayer each morning. Her ritual began with bathing the gods that resided on a low table, adorning them in bright, shiny silks with intricate gota work that gave them a luxurious look. This was an enchanting spectacle for two young girls who watched mesmerised by the entire process. Then, from the labyrinth of her religious paraphernalia, she would bring out a small cylindrical steel (or aluminium) bottle with a cork stopper—sandalwood itr (attar or perfume) to be applied as the final touch in dressing up the deities. On special days, she would dab a little on my wrist or behind my ears, and the scent would linger throughout the day.
Over the years, my encounters with Indian itr continued through various social interactions. At some gatherings, a small bamboo stick with cotton wrapped at one end, doused with fragrance, would be handed over at the entrance. At other times, itr would be sprinkled through small, intricately carved silver itr danis (perfume containers).
For me, summers always meant the scent of khus itr (vetiver), and being in Banaras, I would often explore a few old shops in the city’s older quarters that sold these traditional Indian perfumes. Shelves were stacked with dusty old glass or crystal bottles, each sealed with a delicate stopper. The requested fragrance would be carefully poured into small 5- or 10-ml bottles, each holding its own aromatic story. While rose (gulab) was an eternal favourite, sandalwood and bela (mogra or jasmine) were also popular choices. Even today, I continue to use these traditional scents alongside a collection of modern perfumes.
Divrina Dhingra beautifully captures these sensory memories in The Perfume Project, with evocative descriptions that feels almost tangible. She writes: “… the smells of Delhi: the tiny, pale green and unremarkable-looking clusters of flowers on the saptaparni trees that line entire avenues and produce an inexplicably moving scent when they bloom in early winter, the acrid smell of burning leaves, the mysterious perfume of tiny harshringar flowers which bloom in the evening and wither by sunrise, the welcome fragrance of the first rain in June.” This passage resonated deeply with me, reminding me of my own childhood home in Banaras. In summers, the fragrance of bela would waft from one corner of the garden, while juhi (night jasmine) and raat ki rani (night-blooming jasmine) filled the air in another. Early winters or autumn brought the scent of harshringar and gulmehandi, while monsoons carried the fragrance of the desi rose (gulab) in full bloom, and early summers were redolent with the smells of neem tree flowers. Each season brought its unique bouquet of scents, anchoring my memories to specific times and places.
Scents and tastes have a way of transporting us back to the past, often to cherished memories and, at times, to moments tinged with nostalgia. Some of my favorite perfumes today are older brands, because they remind me of my childhood, when my mother would spray one of her exotic and treasured perfumes brought back by my father from his travels abroad.
The Perfume Project by Divrina Dhingra is a small, yet exquisitely crafted book that captures the essence of India’s rich tradition of perfume-making. From the very first page, readers are immersed in a world of fragrance, as Dhingra uses words almost like a magician, conjuring up the smells of flowers and itr. The book is complemented by stunning illustrations that enhance the sensory experience, making it visually and intellectually captivating.
Dhingra’s descriptions of ingredients and techniques used in Indian perfumery are beautifully evocative, giving readers an intimate glimpse into the craftsmanship of this ancient art form practised through millennia. The delicate handling of scents, the intricate process of extracting perfumes from flowers, and the meticulous attention to detail that goes into crafting itr are all beautifully portrayed. It is a world that feels almost sacred, brimming with tradition and artistry.
However, there are moments when the book veers into technical territory, which might appeal to perfume enthusiasts or those familiar with the intricate details of perfumery. For casual readers, though, some of the terminology can feel overwhelming, causing parts of the book to read more like a manual than an engaging journey into India’s perfume traditions.
Another notable aspect of the book is that while it touches on the history and craftsmanship of itr making, it tends to gloss over some of the significant challenges facing the Indian perfume industry today. Dhingra briefly mentions issues such as the dominance of alcohol based fragrances, the waning demand for traditional perfumes, and the effects of industrialisation on artisanal crafts. Yet, these critical issues are not explored in depth. Readers are left wondering about the future of itr in India, particularly in a world where alcohol-based, mass-produced perfumes often overshadow traditional scents, even though many of the raw ingredients used in them are produced and exported from India.
Moreover, the book falls short in addressing how Indian perfumers might adapt to the needs of modern consumers. With fragrance trends shifting globally, it would have been interesting to see insights on how traditional itr could be positioned in today’s markets or if any innovations are underway to meet contemporary tastes.
Despite these gaps, The Perfume Project by Divrina Dhingra offers a sensory-rich experience and a rare glimpse into a beautiful and fading art form. Dhingra’s love and passion for perfumes shine through her writing, making the subject accessible and intriguing for readers from all backgrounds. Whether you are a fragrance enthusiast or simply curious about Indian cultural traditions, this book will leave you with a newfound appreciation for the delicate and intricate world of perfumes.
Ultimately, while the book could have delved deeper into the future of Indian perfumery and its commercial challenges, it remains a delightful and aromatic exploration of a timeless craft, preserving a piece of India’s heritage with elegance and grace.
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