TRY SMELLIN THIS!!!

I am a bachelor writing this very blog. And I do expect the readers to be bachelors as well. As I just return after a pacifying shower, its time to spray the deodorant can or may be press upon the head of that delicate perfume bottle. Phone rings! Could be my friend from the other hostel or could be my girlfriend calling.
Ok. . I know I am writing absurd stuff now. Point is about those four words in bold. Deodorant, perfume, a friend and your girlfriend. The thing in common. . They are all integral part of a bachelor’s life. Isn’t it?
But somehow I find an uncanny connection. It seems to me as if your friends (read "male friends") resemble a deodorant and your girlfriend, the perfume.
They come in a can. Hard, sturdy and reliable. Perfumes come in exclusive seductive glass bottles. To be carefully handled. Once let loose, they will shatter and you’ll lose it forever although its fragrance would not leave your room.
You change deodorants with seasons. You are always in search of a new one although you always brood over the new one thinking about the one you love the most. But one generally doesn’t change his perfume. It’s an identity, a statement and an addiction. You simply love to wear it.
Deodorants don’t burn a hole in your pocket and neither do you spend much time getting one. Perfumes are to be hand picked with utmost care and sense. Once chosen, they become part of your lifestyle and hence preserved.
Your deodorant is your daily dose of aromatic pleasure but perfume... they are a special possession, a collection and you don’t mind being selfish about it. And at times you tend to keep it at a distance from the many deodorant cans that you have.
I feel happy to find people appreciating my deodorants but I don’t wish to find someone having a thought about MY (and only my) perfume. [My selfishness has reasons. Please understand]
I have one such truly exclusive desirable and beautiful piece of redolence. I am possessive about HER, I am obsessed with HER and yeah, at all times very much selfish about HER. SHE haunts my room; SHE escorts my wardrobe and gives me my identity.
But then, even if I sprinkled my perfume this Sunday and it refuses to leave my shirt I still can’t move out without that refreshing spray of the deodorant. Its a habit, a daily phenomenon that always infected me, still infects me and will continue infecting me with all that I want. And I am never satisfied with one can. I need a few to lighten my mood and cheer me up. But of course, the perfume never ceases to diffuse, it’s there still tweaking my nostrils and sensitising my nerves.
I can’t do without either. I need both. All the time, all the while.
"OOT REH EVOL I DNA SDNEIRF YM EVOL I"
I know bachelors are smart enough to read the above. Any one who couldn’t please pass a comment.