名残
Everyone composes for the first spray.
We compose for the hour after.
名残 is the trace something leaves when it goes.
The archive
Before the Rain
The twenty minutes before a storm breaks, when the ground is still hot and the air has already changed.
After the Silence
Late evening, cold weather, one press at the throat. The resin a tree makes only where it has been wounded.
Quiet Hour
The hour after everyone has gone home. Sandalwood against dry iris, close enough that most people will not smell it.
Ember
Dusk in cold weather, one press before you leave. The room keeps it after you have gone.
Night Bloom
After dark, when the mogra opens. Loud for an hour by intention, and close for the rest of the night.
Five editions. Each built on one material, and held six to ten weeks before it is bottled.
Where to begin
All five, at two millilitres
A bottle is a long commitment to a smell you have met once. The discovery set is the honest way in: the whole archive at 2 ml in a Kōzo slipcase, ₹799, with ₹500 credited against whichever one turns out to be yours.
