Some time ago, Meo and a group of friends take a trip to India. A journey, indeed. One of a life-changing kind. Which reposition priorities and force you to look for meanings beyond words. On his return, Meo composes Varanasi, the final stage of a journey that has led him to touch very deep inner chords.
The animal notes and ambrette seeds stand out suggesting warmth, skin-comfort, the smell of humanity. Sweet and a tad dirty, rich in every human strength and weakness.
Then the spices, which have nothing gastronomic at all, but suggest an Elsewhere that is within each of us.
Then incense and flowers: rose and jasmine. The yin and the yang, night and day, life and death in an eternal dance.
For me, it is too exciting to be able to wear it lightly, between the bus, the gym, and the office. It requires silence, presence, it requires to be listened to.
And it is perfectly right: the man who returns home is never the same
who started the Journey.