Smoke, Memory, and the Sacred Thread of Fragrance

What is perfume to you?

To me, the earliest perfumes were not from a bottle—they came from my mother, my aunts, and my grandmother. Each family gathering, every hug, carried a different scent, warm and unforgettable. As I grew older, perfume became the trail left by someone I liked—the scent in her hair, the air around her as she walked by, the invisible imprint of a smile.

Later still, when chasing love was no longer the center of my world, I found perfume again in other forms: the glossy bottles lining the shelves of a shopping mall, each one sparkling under the lights, each one costing me nearly two days of wages. And then came the curiosity. Why do luxurious places—hotel lobbies, high-end stores—always have their own signature scent? Can a fragrance truly feel “expensive”?

That’s when I began to ask: what is perfume, really?

I learned that the word comes from the Latin per fumum, meaning “through smoke.” That led me to the world of incense—tiny sticks of mystery and memory. Incense, as I would discover, is one of the earliest forms of human fragrance. Archaeological findings in Mesopotamia and Egypt show ceramic incense burners dating back to around 3000 BCE. It fascinates me how such a small stick can hold and release so many layers of scent—each one ancient, sacred, and alive.

Smoke, Stone, and Ceremony

In the distant second millennium BCE, in the heart of ancient Babylon, a woman named Tapputi, known by her title Belatekallim—a “female overseer of the palace”—worked as a royal perfumer. She was not merely blending oils for the court; she was refining formulas, distilling flowers and resins, and meticulously recording her processes. Tapputi is now recognized as one of the earliest chemists in recorded history (Rhoades, 2017).

Beyond the palace walls, in the solemn temples of Babylon and Nineveh, the Ḫišippu—priest-exorcists—were burning incense as sacred practice. Through smoke, they purified spaces, warded off illness, and guided the soul’s dialogue with the divine (Bottéro, 2001). Archaeological findings have unearthed stone and ceramic incense burners from Mesopotamian temple sites, dating back over 4000 years. These vessels, often carved with ritual symbols, speak of a time when fragrance rose from fire, stone, and sacred intention.

Today, the mystery once held by royal compounds and temple sanctuaries has become accessible. That small stick of incense—quietly burning in our rooms—still invites us to breathe slower, to sit still, to reconnect with something beyond the surface.

The Scent That Still Lingers

And perhaps that’s the quiet magic of fragrance—its ability to transcend time, class, and ritual. What once belonged to queens and priests now lives in our homes, rising gently from a single ember. From Tapputi’s alchemical vessels to the Ḫišippu’s sacred smoke, and now to the incense stick glowing faintly on a ceramic tray, fragrance has always been our silent companion—an invisible thread that ties us to memory, to spirit, and to the deep, timeless desire to feel at peace.

References

Bottéro, J. (2001). Religion in Ancient Mesopotamia. University of Chicago Press.

Leick, G. (1998). A Dictionary of Ancient Near Eastern Mythology. Routledge.

Moorey, P. R. S. (1994). Ancient Mesopotamian Materials and Industries: The Archaeological Evidence. Oxford University Press.

Rhoades, T. (2017, January 31). Tapputi Belatekallim, the First Chemist. Girl Museum. https://www.girlmuseum.org/tapputi-belatekallim-the-first-chemist/

Scurlock, J., & Andersen, B. R. (2005). Diagnoses in Assyrian and Babylonian Medicine: Ancient Sources, Translations, and Modern Medical Analyses. University of Illinois Press.