I read with
interest your most
wondrous weekly front page that drew a parallel
between the 'Perfume
and the Memory of War' that a blogger had
written about, and 'perfume and the state of the church' that you
observed.
Perfume is
life. Here in Kannauj (where we also call it attar) we have made
perfume for thousands of years; here we grow oakmoss and sugandh
mantri and jatamansi and daru haldi, and we import other materials
such as juniper berries, kewra, and sandal wood oil from other places.
Countless Mugals and kings and wealthy men have sought out our perfumes,
our attars, to use for offerings, ceremonies, and the ordinary pleasure
of life. Our ancestors had been making perfume for thousands of
years before Jesus was born, and still use the same formula.
I was intrigued
by your suggestion that Jacques Guerlain's Djedi was the perfume
that best symbolizes the Anglican church. It was sold in a green
box that looked like a Hindu tomb, but upon opening that tomb, the
cut-glass bottle inside radiated life risen from the tomb. The perfume
in that bottle was more ambivalent, smelling of life, death, and
then resurrection before drying down.
We had a
bottle of Djedi here when I was a boy. My grandfather brought it
back from London once. It's long gone. My father tried to copy it,
but never succeeded in cracking its mysteries. I haven't smelled
Djedi in decades, but I will never forget the unearthly progression
of its vapours. Djedi has always for me been the Christian perfume,
life passing through death to resurrection, so I was very pleased
to read that you thought it would make a good symbol for the Anglican
communion.
I found your
publication by accident in a search engine, but I am intrigued and
have made a bookmark of it. Grace upon you.
Manoj Harlalka
St Thomas, Church of South India
Kannauj, Uttar Pradesh, INDIA
11 November 2007
(Ed. note:
Thank you for this most interesting response to our Djedi letter.
To link the scent to the Christian life makes
this magical fragrance even more heart-rending.)