Take a Bow!

There are times when the esoterica of correspondence has a way of making one realise the little wonders that fill one's life. Small tidbits that brighten the mundane with fairy dust of a fairy Godmother; a smile and a small confession, some wistfulness and the appreciation of the same values in the otherwise dimly lit path of life. And in this path, people even talk about perfume.
Chayaruchama, or Ida, as friends know her, is one of the wonders of the perfume community who like King Midas has the rare gift of turning everything she touches into pure gold. Not the gold that lies at the end of the the rainbow or the lady who is buying a Stairway to Heaven. Instead, the gold that shines into the hearts of people who meet her.
I am not at all surprised that, out of the myriads of people that the photographer of the New York Times could have captured a shot of, they chose the expressive face of Ida, absorbed into the daydreaming that perfume has the power to evoke in us. I am not surprised that Neil Morris has created a perfume at her honour, as a hommage to her personality. I am not surprised that she has been blessed with wonderful children and loyal friends who sing her praises in the tongues of angels. She has earned all these and if you glimpse even the slightest bit of her, you surely already know.
Perfumista par excellence, opera singer, ministering angel in the wards of her patients, tender mother and muse to niche perfumers, jack of all trades yet master in all, Ida is a bundle of joy for everyone who talks with her or participates in the same forum.

Dearest, I feel deeply honoured to have been one of them!