A whiff of jasmine from a bush in someone's garden.
Further on, the delicate fragrances of pArijAta (coral jasmine) and hongE (Pongaemia).
The aTroma of frying onions (uppmA? sAmbhAr?) wafting through the air.
A sudden touch of Vicks Vaporub, that the elderly (well, elderlier than me) gentleman is busily applying to his nostrils.
The acrid smell from a small, smoking fire on the footpath.
The distinctive smell of pineapple and banana from the fruit stall.
No mango smells....yet.
The stink of an open sewer.
The fresh fragrance of bunches of coriander, as the vendor chops off the roots for a customer. Petrol and diesel fumes as I cross the main road.
Coffee, from the darshini that I pass, tempting me to stop, though I don't.
Camphor and flowers from the little temple.
I could walk through my city just taking in the various smells...but of course, I dare not do so!