All we have is now

When I was home, back in Hyderabad in February, I went on a cleaning spree. That’s quite my normal because mum doesn’t have the time to really dig deep - in its literal sense - and get rid of the clutter we’ve collected over the years. In her defence, most of that belongs to Meghana and me and she wouldn’t know what we would need when, if at all. She’d rather let be than face our ire.

On the dressing unit that day, I found a Coco Chanel body lotion that my aunt from New York had brought us. It was at least 15 years old. It still smelled heavenly, though, with the freshness of its perfect blend of tangerine and jasmine. I poured some of it onto my palm and marvelled at the lightness of that little puddle of brown. Reluctantly, I smeared it across my face and watched it blend into my skin with ease. I wasn’t sure of the expiry date but was sure it was long gone. I looked at the bottle that looked as good as new minus the gradual layers of deposition that looked like silt. I smelled divine; that was enough temptation as I forgot about my apprehension and put on some more.

It had aged well, like us, with us. From high school drama to college heartaches, across three different homes, it watched and experienced it all from its perch. In those days, I personally didn’t know of Chanel or the luxury brand it is, but because she had gifted it to us, I knew it wasn’t anything ordinary. But in those days, we didn’t really google the hell out of every little thing to gauge its value. We didn’t care either. I only knew it was a body lotion that a special occasion warranted, and of course, used quite sparsely so we could use it for a long time.

That “long time” went well past a decade and it’s only used a third. Unfortunately, it’s not usable anymore. That hot afternoon made me think about how we save stuff for the opportune moment or the special occasion when NOW is the only occasion. My dad always said, ‘Kal kisne dekha?’ And COVID has driven that message home even further. Use that expensive lotion, spray your favourite perfume. Wear your Zara dress even if you’re going to your local pub. All you have is now; not tomorrow, not once this pandemic ends, and not ten years later. (I never cared about those ‘where-do-you-see-yourself-five-years-from-now questions anyway!) Just now.

And now I need to make myself a coffee.