Perfume: The story of Sylhet’s oud harvesters

Some stories travel in silence. Like a scent that lingers long after it is gone, they move quietly; crossing oceans, drifting through time, carrying something of a place that refuses to be forgotten. 

Oud Zarian, by the House of Creed, is one such story. It begins not in Paris, nor in London, but in the deep green forests of our very own Sylhet.

For over four centuries, the Jalali family has tended the Aquilaria (Agar) trees, whose fate depends on a strange twist of nature. When wounded by a certain fungus, they begin to weep a dark, fragrant resin. It is an act of survival, but from this struggle comes agarwood, the rarest and most expensive perfume ingredient in the world; often more expensive than gold itself. 

Reaching the Jalali family, who rarely speak publicly about their work, was not easy. The current custodian of the Jalali family business, who prefers not to be named, shared, "We never wanted publicity or hype. It's not in our nature. This is a centuries-old family craft, and we've continued it in the same traditional way." 

Time is their main ingredient. 

The Aquilaria trees are left to grow almost 30 to 40 years before any harvest can even begin, turning it into what perfumers refer to as "black gold". Each tree, once mature, is inspected, hand-cut, soaked, and distilled by craftsmen who understand that haste is the enemy of fragrance. The result is an oil so potent, a single drop can alter the mood of an entire room.

The Jalalis do not measure their success in months or even years. "Each generation harvests the patience of the last," an old saying goes in their trade. The oud used in Creed's perfume might have been tended by someone's grandfather, its distillation completed by the father, and its perfection witnessed by the son.

While the world now associates Jalali Agarwood with Creed's Oud Zarian, their collaborations stretch beyond that; Dior, Louis Vuitton and several other high-end perfume houses have also worked with them. Yet, as he put it, "Wherever we go, we make sure our roots are recognised. We always mention our ancestors and our home, Sylhet."

Creed found its way to this oil like one collector recognises another across centuries. Founded in 1760, the House of Creed, a French-based luxury perfume house, has always been more of a steward of customs than a perfume company. They make scents the old-fashioned way; layer by layer, by hand, often using ingredients that others would dismiss as too rare, too time-consuming, too expensive to bother with. 

In a field that is increasingly dependent on machines and molecules, Creed continues to pursue an intangible asset — patience.

Launched as a limited treasure, Oud Zarian carries that philosophy to its extreme. At its core lies Oud Choron, distilled from the heartwood of Sylhet's Aquilaria trees. Creed describes it as "a rare treasure crowned with the most precious 80-year-aged oud," and for once, the marketing does not exaggerate. 

Lottie Winter, Beauty Director of Marie Claire (UK), wrote in an article, "I'm not usually drawn to oud fragrances, but Oud Zarian is unexpectedly magnanimous. It doesn't overwhelm or cling at the back of the nose, as I find some ouds can."

The bottle itself, dark matte burgundy, almost like the perfume's character, comes in two variants, 50ml and 100ml, priced at €350 and €495 respectively on Creed's official website. In Bangladesh, a few perfume retailers such as Perfume House Bangladesh list the 100ml bottle for around Tk52,500 with a 16% discount.

The current custodian of Jalali Agarwood explained, however, that what Creed refers to as "80-year-aged oud" is not the age of the oil itself. "The agarwood and the process actually is 80 years old or even older," he clarified. "But the oil is always distilled fresh before it's used in the perfume. That's how it retains its power."

When asked about the cultivation and perfume-making process, he told us about the two distinct kinds of agarwood cultivation found in Sylhet. "Some trees are planted under government initiatives, and some under private ownership. For the latter, you need certification before harvesting, since these trees fall under CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora)," he said. "Only after proper inspection and clearance can we begin harvesting."

Once permitted, the cultivation can follow two paths; intensive and the natural approach. "In intensive cultivation, once a tree reaches 30 or 35 years of age, we create intentional wounds by inserting small nails to trigger resin production. After five or six years, only the infected area is cut down and harvested," he said. Around 350 years ago, when natural agarwood became too rare to rely on, Sylheti cultivators began developing intentional harvesting methods. 

"But the natural method is far slower. Here, no wounds are created intentionally. It depends on how the tree reacts to natural injuries inside its trunk. That process can take up to a hundred years. It's incredibly rare, but the result; the aroma, the depth, the longevity — is something unmatched. And, one such natural oud is Oud Choron; one of the finest we've produced. It can't be mass-made. It takes time, and patience; the kind of patience that's disappearing from this world." 

Once ready, the infected wood, dark, heavy, fragrant is then hand-cleaned to remove its pale, scentless parts. The black wood is then submerged in water for weeks, left to rest, then distilled in traditional wooden stills over open fire. The resulting oil is collected drop by drop, filtered by hand, and left to mature under the sun.

"In our distillation, we still follow the traditional methods that our ancestors used," he said. "Some of our formulations even trace back to the Mughal era. There's a book called Ain-I-Akbari which documented Emperor Akbar's administration, including the art of perfumery. We took a few recipes from there. The Mughals had an entire large department dedicated to perfume production."

Working with high-end global houses demands not only artistry but accountability as well. And, Jalali Agarwood is well aware of that, "We might be based in Bangladesh, but since we work with top-tier European brands, we must maintain their audit standards. Worker rights, fair practices and wage; everything is strictly maintained here."

In the perfume, Creed crowns this oil with layers of frankincense, rose centifolia, myrrh, sandalwood, and patchouli. Together, they create something dense, dark, and luminous, a composition that shifts between warmth and shadow. 

As fragrance journalist Nick Carvell wrote in his blog Noted, "Not only is it a remarkable oud note in itself, this has warmth and depth, yet a lightness that is a joy to discover. The opening is fresh, bitter and spicy with notes of bergamot, dried ginger, rose and frankincense. After, this dries down into a sweeter, complex base of liquorice, myrrh and that signature oud—velvety, soft and rounded." 

The final scent is neither masculine nor feminine, neither loud nor modest, it is something else entirely, a smell of devotion refined through centuries. 

Fragrance expert Josephine Fairley described it best in her blog Beauty Bible "Surprisingly, Oud Zarian becomes warm and soft, not punchy and invasive, yet — here's the weird thing — it is unbelievably, record-breakingly long-lasting."

The Jalalis do not measure their success in months or even years. "Each generation harvests the patience of the last," an old saying goes in their trade. The oud used in Creed's perfume might have been tended by someone's grandfather, its distillation completed by the father, and its perfection witnessed by the son. 

In the end, Oud Zarian, more than a perfume, is a collaboration between two artisans who believe in the sanctity of time. A story that began with a wounded tree in Sylhet now travels in fine glass bottles to cities that may never know where it came from.