The 2-Year Wait For Eshq

Autumn has arrived in the shire. In the Scottish North, some mornings greet me with frost-kissed grass, terrible chill that necessitates tightening the cords of my dressing gown before my first cuppa, and dreich that lingers from 7 o'clock to tea. Still, it is autumn—and I find myself at a curious, contented juncture in life and collecting. Cardboard boxes crowd the downstairs floor, yet I cannot quite bring myself to fill them. Life these days has been happy. I stepped away from a job that had consumed me, and a new chapter begins soon in the North of England—hence the joy, and the ache to come. These past three years in Scotland have been a fast train. Though I’m returning to familiar haunts, I’m leaving behind people I cherish deeply, whose absence already stings. Love, Eshq… it conceals so much, doesn’t it? It’s the reason I’m writing to you now, after what became an unexpectedly long silence. Do forgive me for that; life, well, just happened.

A few years ago, someone left a comment on one of my blog posts, requesting my viewpoint on Rasasi's Eshq. I responded truthfully —I had no experience of the said perfume, and promised to write back if ever I did. I may not remember the reader, but I always keep my promises, and so whoever you are, this one is for you.

Eshq is water-based and has a pink hued creamy consistency that requisites a gentle shake before use to unlock its full charm. Post-spray onto skin, it generously releases a pale, milky fluid that warms upon contact, diffusing into what can only be described as a tendresse, a delicate release of fragrance—like the prolonged after-effect following an indulgent thermal bath in a 'by invitation only' spa. The aroma could make even the staunchest scientist wax lyrical. What is it of? Damask rose petals steeped in imported alpine spring water, touched with a whisper of lychee, and anchored by the quiet persistence of clean musk. Eshq feels neither girlish nor overly mature. It belongs to those who swear by roses and wear silk and lace beneath their cashmere jumpers.

If you are curious about how long Eshq lasts, let me phrase it this way: if you spritz it onto damp, moisturised skin an hour before bed, teasing wafts of scents will continue to flirt with your senses as sweet dreams find you. But Eshq will be an angel of the morning —like a dream you almost remember.

May your experience of this fragrance be everything it has been to me. And with none too much flair and dramatics, I will sign off in Latin I did not compose, servata sunt promissa facta.