Aroma of a Malang

Writing is my ultimate "me time" activity. It's how I hit the pause button, reflect, and truly relish and soak in the light—the energy I absorb, deflect, or reflect in my daily life. Here’s what gets me: Why does anyone who writes frequently, or even professionally, get automatically branded as a "writer type"?

I've been working on a book forever, and I still don't call myself a writer. Writing, to me, isn't a construction project or a piece of code that needs to be perfectly run or executed. Everyone eats, walks, and cries, but we don't go around calling them "eaters" or "howlers," do we? It just seems like an unnecessary box to put people in.

Brewing an Emotional Bubble 

For me, writing "occurs." It's not something you can plan, schedule, and execute like a business task. It brews, just like emotions. Think about making chai. I watch the tea leaves in the boiling water, observing until they make the water deeply aromatic—that's when I know the "chai nasha" (intoxication/essence) has been fully transferred. Writing is the same. It has to brew first, sometimes for a long time, and then it has to occur. Emotions are an ephemeral Bubble in time. It's been a while since I've written anything, and today, I'm starting again before I dive into work. It didn't happen sooner because, frankly, it was brewing slowly and hadn't reached that "aromatic point" where it had to occur. Have you ever noticed how some emotions are like momentary bubbles? They're so fleeting that if you don't capture them on the page, they vanish, never to return—or at least not in the same precise form. Those emotions, that specific "brew," can disappear in a whiff. My favorite writer, Nida Fazli, in a Ghazal wrote.

एक से हो गए मौसमों के चेहरे सारे, मेरी आँखों से कहीं खो गया मंज़र मेरा !

मुद्दतें बीत गईं ख़्वाब सुहाना देखे, जागता रहता है हर नींद में बिस्तर मेरा !

Today's writing is inspired by the people and incidents I've encountered recently. Let the brew begin!

Doers, Thinkers & Feelers

The world, in my observation, is largely populated by "programmed beings"—predominantly doers, with a smaller number of thinkers and feelers. An estimated 90% of the global workforce seems to belong to this "doer labour force," spending their lives on an endless cycle of tasks, making, and spending money, with amusement serving as their only break.

These doers are characterized by their attraction to "the noise in the world." They gravitate toward crowded spaces like markets and clubs, thriving as one in the crowd. Their engagement with modern life often involves doomscrolling for a quick dopamine rush.

Their conversational scope appears rigidly defined. I mentioned to my mother, in a city like Delhi, discussions rarely move beyond five core topics: Money, Food, Cars, Property, and Clothes. Strip away these subjects, and their well of conversation runs dry. They are the selfie-obsessed tribe, seeking constant external validation, more focused on documenting a moment than truly experiencing it.

This same superficiality is why I avoid weddings. The entire setting—from makeup designed to conceal one's true self to flashy attire—is dedicated to creating a fake scenery. My personal challenge is a profound indifference to appearance; I often can't recall what someone was wearing. Instead, I register only their aura.

The extensive effort people put into their appearance—as observed recently at a pre-wedding function—strikes me as a profound waste. If they could connect with art, they might grasp the simple elegance expressed in the Urdu couplet:

आरिज़-ओ-लब सादा रहने दो, ताजमहल पे रंग न डालो। (Keep the cheeks and lips simple, do not put color on the Taj Mahal.)

This suggests that true beauty, like the marble of the Taj Mahal, should be appreciated in its natural, unadorned state.

Thinkers are defined by their hardcore reliance on logic and rationality. They are typically class toppers, represented by academics, analysts, or scientists who prioritize objective truth. This logical approach often causes them to disregard or overshadow emotional responses in decision-making. They naturally favor brutal, impartial facts.

Then there are the Feelers. Bhagat Singh Said, Lovers, Lunatics and Poets are made of the same thing. I had this poster in my room. I bought that for 5 Rupees from the footpath opposite Regal Cinema in 1989. I had it till 7 years ago in my bedroom. I often say that people who like poetry or simply Ghazal listeners are a different kind of people. Have you ever met a person, or even just spoken to them over the phone, and felt a connection at an aroma level? I call this aromatic intimacy—a term I’ve coined. This isn't about the perfume they are wearing, as perfume is just an external scent. An aromatic personality means every expression, both verbal and non-verbal, makes you intensely connect with that person. These are often the Ghazal people; they simply feel everything more intensely.

They experience emotions—both positive and negative—with significantly higher intensity than the average person. Joy can be ecstasy; sadness can feel like profound despair. Their joys are simpler: a sunrise, the "baarish" (rain), or a child smiling at a traffic signal, rather than buying a Calvin Klein Jeans. 

They are often highly attuned to subtleties in their environment and relationships. This heightened sensitivity can mean being easily overwhelmed by bright lights, loud noises, strong scents, or even too many tasks at once. I remember once commenting to someone that her hair smelled nice; she was genuinely surprised I could register that specific aroma, as it's something usually not noted. Contrary to general perception, I am ( and feelers are ) an extroverted introvert; we create a smokescreen of extroversion to hide the extreme introvert inside.

Feelers also have a powerful sense of intuition and are extremely empathetic, easily sensing or absorbing the moods and feelings of others around them. When I drive on the highway, my excuse is to listen to music nonstop for hours, but I dread the thought that if I see an accident, I will immediately be in a somber mood. Feelers also possess great intuition; they don't just react—they often see things coming. 

They often have a vivid imagination. When they are narrated an incident, they can instantly create a visual clip of it in their head. There is a favorite Lata Mangeshkar song of mine, "Jaane Kya Baat Hai," which has a line that perfectly captures a Feeler’s visualization: "Jab-jab dekhun main ye chaand-sitare, aisa lagta hai mujhe laaj ke maare, jaise koi doli, jaise baaraat hai!" (Whenever I see the moon and stars, it seems to me, out of bashfulness, like a wedding procession.) Such people have an indefatigable sense of hope. I stumbled upon a Ghazal a few days ago that was totally not found anywhere else. I was thinking that this poetry can't be understood by most people.

फिर निगाहें मिला के देख्नेगे , चोट फिर और खा के देखेंगे !

तू नहीं तो , तेरे तस्सुवर से , दिल की दुनिया बसा के देखेंगे !

दिल अगर दर्द बन नहीं सकता , दर्द को दिल बना के देखेंगे !

हम ही जब बज़्म ना होंगे "नक़ी" वो किसे मुस्करा के देखेंगे !

Feelers live in an imaginative universe, a beloved in not a person for them, its a frame, it's a state of mind for them. They make a frame first in their head and retrofit a person and most times, they die with that empty frame. Being a feeler is both a blessing and a curse. While they soak in more of life, they can't enjoy the superficial 'amusements" like cricket, action movies and clubs. 

Above all, their relationships are characterized by depth and passion. They crave authentic connection and struggle with superficiality. For them, gifts don't matter; moments matter. That is why the Ghazal people, the feelers, are different. We are the "feelers." We are a very small and diminishing minority. There used to be an ad on TV, only 1411 Tigers left in India. I bet we have even fewer "feelers" left!

Myth called a "Friend" & Soul Aroma Intimacy 

I have always believed that the word "Friend" is the most misunderstood word we use. A true "friend" doesn't actually exist; it is an imagined idea we have built. What is real is the intimacy between two people. When people call someone a friend, they are simply describing an acquaintance who has lasted for a long time. 

These days, social media is full of meaningless talk about relationships, and I ignore all of it. Most people do not understand the true depths and levels of intimacy that are possible. Look closely at anyone you call a friend. Your connection is based on different forms of closeness: you are either emotionally close, socially close, or financially close, or perhaps all of these things. Other connections come from shared experiences. You can have experiential intimacy if you share a passion or a sport. You can have spiritual intimacy with people who share your deepest beliefs. You can have physical intimacy with someone. A rare and deep connection is trauma intimacy, which happens when you have both gone through terrible events like an accident or a serious illness. There is also situational intimacy, like the intense, brief connection you make with someone while traveling. You can mark each of these as a factor in your bond. You might share every kind of intimacy with your romantic partner, but does that automatically make them a "friend"? The fact is, we share different amounts of intimacy with everyone we meet. I do not call every one of these connections a "friend." 

I have made up one more theory: Soul Aroma Intimacy. These are the rare people you are drawn to because of an unexplained connection at the soul level. When you meet these people, the bond is immediate: you connect deeply on an emotional, intellectual, and even a trauma level. Every other kind of intimacy will naturally follow that core connection; those other factors will not be the foundation of the bond. Only a few people can be trusted so completely that you feel in sync most of the time. Think of it as feelers connecting with feelers on a soul level. These are the free spirits (the 'Malangs') whose unique inner aroma is so strong that it naturally pulls you in, and the relationships simply form around that powerful, initial pull.

Hence, Keep Seeking the aroma of a Malang. 

Today's ghazal is another Gem, Benaam Khwahishein and Papon is Magic!