“To me, fragrance isn’t simply something you wear; it’s something you remember. Every scent is an invitation to pause, to feel, and to reconnect.”
— Farida
I. The Vision & The Spark
Tell us a bit about yourself. Who is Farida, and what is the heartbeat behind your fragrance business?
I’m Farida, a storyteller by profession and an observer at heart. I find myself drawn to the smaller, less evident things: a faint scent while walking somewhere, a familiar spot at home, the rhythm of a mundane chore, or a fleeting moment where a memory resurfaces.
These ordinary experiences have an extraordinary ability to carry us across time. They remind us of people we’ve loved, places we’ve left behind, and moments that become part of who we are. I think that’s where WOUDH began.
Born from longing. Surviving daily. No wails or qualms. The quiet life as Allah has made it for us to experience, endure, and live. Each on our own journey.
That is the essence. The ruh. The heartbeat behind WOUDH.
You’re a traveler at heart. What was the exact moment or specific trip where you realized a destination needed to be captured as a scent?
Hajj, 2022. The calm in the middle of the night, where our worldly body turns roohani, our materialistic layers peel away, and all we are left with is a wounded soul trying to heal through taslim and prayers. And no, you don’t change as a person; you proudly appreciate yourself with all the faults and flaws.
When you step out of Masjid al-Haram, in the absolute center of materialistic things, the bukhoors, the hustle and bustle, and the constant movement of people strike. But it doesn’t interrupt your intentions in an ugly way. That’s where I realized oud was something I always resonated with. Born from a wound, trying to live and heal itself, over years, quietly. Coincidentally, the attar I was carrying with me on the trip was also rose and oud.
Travel changes how we see the world, but how did it change how you smell the world? Did you find your senses sharpening while abroad, or notice unique olfactory layers in different climates?
Oh, I’m constantly scrunching my nose, very evidently! I don’t look at places by their names; mostly I point it out to my kids, husband, and friends: this place smells like this, this place gives me beach vibes, this place smells like that restaurant. That’s what handling fragrances has done to me.
I have a favorite that’s unfortunately over, and I’m waiting for the maker of the scent to make the attar again for me, InshaAllah. But over time I realized it smelled differently on me. It grew on me at night, more intense and comforting; during the day, even if I applied it twice, it lingered like a faint flame.
II. Deep Roots, New Paths
A beautiful theme that emerges from travel is the balance of “Deep Roots, New Paths.” How can scents simultaneously remind someone of their foundational roots while anchoring them as they step forward onto a new path or journey?
I have grown up in multiple places and homes. And distinctly, I still remember how my childhood house smelled, how my grandmother smelled, and recently I came across an itr that transported me to my late maternal grandfather’s office.
So while home has not always been constant, memories keep me rooted. Taking time to relive them and reshare them with my children strengthens our family bond in the present, as well as with the ones who are now in Allah’s care. And as we grow, these olfactory connections allow me to hold on to memories that would’ve otherwise disappeared. Perhaps that’s why I’m building a business around fragrances—it doesn’t take me to the past, it simply reminds me where I’ve come from.
III. The Olfactory Sense of Place
You’re based in Singapore. How can travelers experience the rich profile of Woudh through your eyes, and how would you describe the complex, vibrant essence of Singapore in a single scent?
Now this is a question I may find complicated. My absolute first memory of Singapore still exists in the first cup of chai my husband made when I came to his house for the first time. So teh tarik is a comforting aroma, with the scent of roti bom and plain pratas tickling your nostrils.
On the other hand, Singapore is an urban jungle. So if I were to describe it in a single scent, it’s a mix of residential buildings and offices where a million notes mingle: the hawkers constantly cooking comfort food, the HDB corridors faintly mixing bukhoors, incense, and agarbattis, the scentless MRT stations that still make it memorable, and the durian!
If I had to string all these chords into one song, it would be a spiced opening note, layered upon the beautiful middle of the sea breeze, nestled on a base of concrete, a dash of durian pungence, and a solid, hard, earthy island.
IV. Passing the Torch
If you find a breath that stops you in your tracks, it can never be random. It’s a recognition and a recollection. To all who read this, the world is full of scents—a trillion plus smells. To inhale that moment, take a pause, and live it. Try to connect with it. We seldom take a breather. But hasn’t Allah made this world for us to live in? Then why are we not?
Maybe, next time a scent stops you, don’t rush past it. Sit with it. May our hearts find the calm in what we cannot see—a scent—and let it make sense to you.
Why did the scent find you?
This was first featured in Ruhfar Vol 2
