this week’s Thought (singular)
raincoats are so under appreciated. i will never take a good raincoat for granted again.
a very warm welcome to all new readers. i love new readers so much that whenever i get an email about a new reader, i manifest that their food delivery happens on time. thank you for joining us. may your lunch be hot, and may their be no leakage in the packaging.
hi
friends who’ve known me for a while will remember the phase i had a few years ago where i would refuse to listen to tracks released as singles. it was going to be in the entire album (in chronological order, than you very much), or nothing. i would stick to this principle like a stubborn dal stain on a white shirt. in recent years, i’m happy to say that i’ve become a little easier with my music-listening habits, and let go of that admittedly high-strung proclivity. however, i do still adore albums. i love the chronology of them, the gradual constant shift in tone and vibe, the arrangements, the way the first song can make such an impact on how the entire thing feels. i thought in this week’s thodi, i would share a list of albums that are very dear to me - because they were gateways to a specific genre, they were on repeat during an Event in my life so have sunk into a permanent sort of space in my memory, or because i just really really really like them.
O My Heart by Mother Mother - my latest and most current obsession, feels almost revolutionary in genre to me and has kept me hooked for weeks
Namah by Thaikkudam Bridge - my Lockdown Album™ and home of Nee, the winner of my Spotify Wrapped Top Tracks 2021 (played 93 times)
Harry Styles by Harry Styles - released in the summer of tenth grade between my theory and practical carnatic music exams, contributing greatly to dismantling my internalised misogyny
From Under The Cork Tree by Fall Out Boy - truly the album of Best Bridges, my 11th and 12th grade anchor
i’m missing so many albums, i know i’m missing so many that had as much impact on me and my listening habits and my taste and that more than deserve a place on this list, but if i didn’t stop here, i never will. please do share your favourite albums, i would love to know and discuss.
ps: happy july :D
English Recitation Competition
enough of can you see me, can you hear me, enough I am human, enough I am alone and I am desperate, enough of the animal saving me, enough of the high water, enough sorrow, enough of the air and its ease, I am asking you to touch me.
Grass, 1967, Victoria Chang
When I open the door, I smile and wave to people who only have eyes and who are infinitely joyful. I see my children, but only the backs of their heads. When they turn around, I don’t recognize them. They once had mouths but now only have eyes. I want to leave the room but when I do, I am outside, and everyone else is inside. So next time, I open the door and stay inside. But then everyone is outside. Agnes said that solitude and freedom are the same. My solitude is like the grass. I become so aware of its presence that it too begins to feel like an audience. Sometimes my solitude grabs my phone and takes a selfie, posts it somewhere for others to see and like. Sometimes people comment on how beautiful my solitude is and sometimes my solitude replies with a heart. It begins to follow the accounts of solitudes that are half its age. What if my solitude is depressed? What if even my solitude doesn’t want to be alone?
Ars Poetica, Archibald MacLeish
A poem should be equal to: Not true. For all the history of grief An empty doorway and a maple leaf. For love The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea— A poem should not mean But be.
The Good Side of the Internet
(subscribe to my standalone publication The Good Side of the Internet for consolidated and extra links at the end of each month!)
From Augustine to Oprah
The ‘Enshittification’ of TikTok
Or how, exactly, platforms die.
A century ago, an English district collector’s book about a great empire distorted the history of an old town in Karnataka. But in recent years, research has cast fresh light on the complicated and glorious story of Bijapur.
SCREAM INTO THE VOID (website)
Instead of dying from alcohol, Raymond Carver chose to live. I met him five months after he’d made this choice, so I never knew the Ray who drank, except by report and through his stories and poems. One result of his decision to stay sober was that he became an internationally respected master of the short story, a writer who, at his death, was called by the London Times “America’s Chekhov.” For me, the best result of his choice was that we found each other, and could write and live together, challenging, inspiring, and supporting one another in this new life we created day by day.
A Picture!
this week’s Song
Absinthe by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME
find all shared songs here.
thank you for reading, and see you next week <3
yes? no? maybe? let me know!
oh my heart <33