Coconut oil cocoon

I have something to say. Which is a good thing because I haven't been saying much these days. I have 100 pages of research work due at the end of August, I'm presently unemployed with limited finances and I'm not sure if I'll have a job in September. 

So basically I'm still studying and about to enter quarter life crisis period (25 years old soon :'( ugh) Plus the internet has invaded my life. The picture below pretty much sums up my present existence, except replace Facebook with Pinterest (the site where you electronically hoard millions of things you will never have in real life). 

Well, I have done some creative things though, I wrote a poem and threw it away, started writing another one and gave up, I've made my own body scrubs and gave them away to my boss. That's turned into my new hobby. I've recently started making my various body scrubs and face packs, etc. I hate using chemical products and the ladies in my family always told me the cure to everything is in nature. I've been really lazy all my adult life, fancy products from brands like l'Occ*tane, Ol*y carried me away and now my skin is freaking out and hates me, so I've decided it's about time to take the zits by the horns and get rid of them, naturally. One of the main ingredients in all the scrubs I've made so far is coconut oil. Coconut is a big part of Indian households and well I didn't have any in my house. Shame on me. OK long story short, this is about what emotions were triggered off when I returned from VT Cash and Carry in Paris with my huge bag of Indian goodies. It's been several months since I last used coconut oil, if I guess correctly, it must have been when I was in India (ages ago). 

I opened up my lovely 100% pure coconut oil bottle and massaged some on my hands. A few seconds later, there was this faint but distinct smell. It was an old familiar scent, one that I hadn't encountered in ages. Then a dam of nostalgia burst open somewhere inside me and I felt sad. It was my grandmother I thought of first. Coconut oil and my grandmothers hands fused beautifully. I remembered how she would massage my little body from head to toe. The oil was warm and it felt good on my skin. The oil also had a more intrinsic effect. It would cocoon my entire being and my mind, for all the time the scent lasted, I had felt safe, wanted, like I belonged. The smell took me back to our verandah where we sat sipping hot ginger tea, accompanied by our many coconut trees. I can still remember which one was my favourite, the one which had the ant hills at its roots. The monsoon wrath would wash away the persistent ants, but they would return a week later to mine and their favourite coconut tree. A strong 'thud' on our roof, while we were asleep was no sign for alarm, it was just another gift from our dear coconut trees. We could collect our coconuts and save them preciously for the afternoon curry or to be shelled and sent off to the mill to make a transparent coveted liquid, which I today realize has so many benefits for the body and soul. They say there is a use for every part of the coconut tree. I remember how my aunt would repurpose the old palms by plaiting them into a temporary roof! I searched all over the web for people who practice this craft and sadly found there aren't too many left. I would love to learn how this is done and carry on this eco-friendly tradition!

pic courtesy A Shankar

Toddy tappers played a big part of my childhood. Every time we saw these daredevils at work, we would stop everything and watch amazed at their courage and might to scale these gigantic trees. The toddy would be used by my amazing aunts to create the delicious palm wine called Feni and some fantastic pancakes to have with that ginger tea. I have to learn how to make these delicious things. I just have to.

It's amazing how the sense of smell works. Here I was standing all alone in my parisian kitchen with a bottle of coconut oil that doubled up as hand moisturizer but yet I was so vividly connected to a whole world that had disappeared into the past. All of those things and people seemed to be around me. Sometimes I wish I could relive those moments again, with those graceful women from my past who taught me some of life's most important lessons. I rub some more of that beautiful coconut balm and for the shortest while invisible hands seem to soothe me. I'm lulled into believing everything will be okay.