Last evening, just outside of my company, a North-Indian coworker, with his ID prominently displayed, requested for a ride in my car. I let him in - and then let him have it: a unique aural and olfactory experience he wouldn't forget.
The first impact was from the heavy eucalyptus fragrance - created with a cotton wad soaked in eucalyptus oil and placed in front of a floor air vent. Historically, this in-car aromatherapy has been known to shock unsuspecting people, and make them wish they were elsewhere.
The second impact was from my choice of radio - pure South Indian Carnatic classical music. There was this lady singing, I could almost imagine her, plump and clad in a red saree, sitting on a stage floor, her hand rhythmically thumping her thigh with gusto. She was in full steam - and this was just the beginning of her performance - the initial Alapana where she'd tune and stretch her vocal chords and our patience with some ten minutes of various sounds and permutations of 'tha dha ri naaaaaaa naaaaaa'.
At some point, this guy seemed to have accepted his fate and started to doze off. That's when I switched to a station playing old Kannada songs. He woke up with a start to the crooning of B. Saroja Devi. The song went like 'koodona, koodi balona'. Pretty racy stuff, eh? These old Kannada songs.
After being subjected to all this, this guy was very glad to get out of my car at the Silk Board junction. I'm sure he'll run if he sees my car again.
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