Hubby returned from Chennai yesterday and brought back, among a lot of other things, a dozen Margo soap bars. He left for work at 7:00 this morning and I lazed into the bathroom at 8:00 after throwing a shout at the girls to get up. That's when i smelled the Margo soap and was immediately transported to my grand mother's bathroom!! No no... not time travel. Scientific research suggests that the sense of smell is the strongest memory trigger. My grandma always used Margo (until a few year ago, when she changed loyalty to Dove as per her doctor's advice). And today I could vividly recall the bathroom in my grandma's Vallaba Agraharam home in Triplicane. It had a rickety wooden door with water eating away the bottom. On the left inside corner, there was a rusted but working hand pump, a metal bucket and a palstic mug. And there was that clean smell of Margo.
My grandma rented a portion on the first floor of the home. You would climb the staircase to a veranda. On the right, the veranda led to a long narrow balcony. And on the left there was a hallway that led to our portion. On either side of the hallway, there was a bedroom and a kitchen that was rented by another family.
The hallway opened to another small veranda that housed the hot water boiler. The kitchen and one room were on the right. A left turn at the end would bring you to the bathroom and the toilet. Over all a dark place, but the one room had a skylight!
My cousins and me have spent countless summer days in this home - playing 'kola kolaya mundhirika' and 'oru kodam thanni' in the veranda...taking off dry clothes hung on the terrace, guarding 'vattal and vadams' laid out to dry. In the evenings, my uncle would take buckets of water up to the terrace and splash water all around to cool the sun baked terra cota tiled floor.
The best part would be when all the kids would sit around an adult in front of a big plate full of 'Thayir saadam' - curd rice and a cup of 'vatha kuzhambu'. The adult would place a ball of rice in each of our hands, we would make a small well in it with our thumbs and that would be filled with the 'vatha kuzhambu' and that ball would travel into our mouths. After dinner, we would carry sheets and pillows up to the terrace and sleep on the cool floor, trying a get a spot as close to the skylight as possible to look down at nothing through the opaque glass.
Hubby brought back, not just Margo soap, but all these fond memories... Thanks!
