The smell of an old-fashioned rose garden with a matt texture of pearlescent whipped cream. The powdery thinness is a reminiscence of the countless hours I encountered my ami (mother) and nani ami (grandmother) applying the cream. The subtle echoes of golden bangles, the gold-plated Sahara Jumkhas ( earings) entangled with delicate black thread swung across matted cheeks bones to the edges of a neckline. You cached a glimpse of the Chiffon dupatta in a light blush, with thin, detailed lace and needlework. Occasionally you saw the surma being applied as the final step.
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