j for joy

l for list

this week’s Thought (singular)

salted almonds

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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 they have a hair tie when they need one. thank you for joining us. may you never find yourself gathering your hair to put it in a pony tail only to see that your wrists are bare and there’s no scrunchie in sight.

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hi

a conversation with a friend about ‘the little things’ and this edition of

The Heirloom Island Ledger

spawned what i’m about to discuss today.

Julieanne Steedman

writes -

Leading into this summer, I decided to make myself a Joy List. Unlike the common ‘Bucket List’ that you hear about (they seem a bit too morbid to me) a Joy-list focusses on becoming aware of the things that bring you joy and then encourages you to make time for more of those things.

when i had first started this newsletter a little over a year ago, when i was more confused about what i wanted from it and what i wanted to do with it, every week was either horribly morbid or incredibly light. after the aforementioned conversation + coming across the Joy List concept, i realised that somewhere along the way, i had stopped writing about light things. irreverent and sometimes silly, but so very happy, like a tiny, fiercely glowing firefly in the dark. in an effort to remedy that, and to balance out the heaviness with some light, i decided to make my own list. presenting -

Jahnavi’s Joy List

1. the fact that ‘joy list’ and ‘jahnavi’ start with the same letter. tickled me pink when i typed that.

2. bread toasted on the pan with butter. red sauce pasta with capsicum and olives. mashed curd rice, with the perfect proportion of milk and curd, mixed with mustard seeds and salt and asafoetida. dosa, fresh off the stove and perfectly crisp, that you fight to get before your brother does, and eat with coconut chutney. fruit juice or buttermilk or coconut water on a sunny day.

3. the flash of surprised delight at noticing that you’ve inadvertently coordinated outfits with a friend. giggling as you take a picture for posterity.

4. the feeling after a good night’s sleep. waking up early and not needing to hit snooze. wriggling your toes under the blanket, knowing it’s cold outside your fabric cocoon but feeling so cozy inside. languishing for just a few more minutes. stretching and feeling yourself open up, ready to receive the day.

5. meeting a baby on the lift. making faces at the baby. peals of high-pitched, joyous laughter and grabby hands as you do another peak-a-boo or indulge in more baby-voiced gibberish. sharing a smile with the mother. waving goodbye to the baby.

6. having something to look forward to. every bad day being a fleeting period that flashes in your peripheral vision, because you’ve got your eyes set on something exciting in the future. a dear friend coming back to town. a wedding in the family to attend. payday. the weekend. dinner. tea time.

7. a cat rubbing against your leg. head-butting your palm if you stop petting her. clambering onto your lap, purring. beginning to chase after you when you have to leave and immediately getting distracted by a dry leaf on the pavement.

8. going to bed. body sinking into the mattress, pillows around you, snuggling in deeper under the covers. lingering in the liminality between asleep and awake. warm, content with the day elapsed. the familiar sound of the fan coaxing you further towards sleep.

9. gloomy weather. windy and cool, clouds making everything grey. stepping out and feeling the breeze peppering goosebumps on your arms. struggling to fit under a single umbrella with your friends as it begins to drizzle, silly giggling, huddling, getting wet anyway. the downpour starting just when you return home. windows open, the smell of wet mud, socks to keep your toes warm.

10. the feeling of writing with a smooth gel pen. calmness in the way it glides across the paper, satisfaction as the ink glistens in the nib’s wake.

11. finishing a poem that speaks to your soul, that holds a mirror up to the weight you’re carrying. something shifting inside as you scan that one line again again again just one more time. the sigh at the end, that one moment when it’s just the words and their visceral power over you.

12. getting done with something you were dreading. all the new space in your brain, all the free room devoid of worry and stress. the vision of the future no longer being blocked by a dark, looming terror, opening up once more to admit relief and joy with the lightness.

13. coordinating with a friend about where they are and where you are, turning on the spot, phone in hand, tinny and confused voice coming through. which exit did you take oh i’m at the other one wait let’s meet in the middle i’m waving can you see me i’m wearing blue i see you turn around! laughing, i thought we had to go that way!, hugs.

14. a hot shower after a long day. feeling the water hit your back, tiredness from your shoulders being carried to the drain like a calm river flowing over a pebble on the banks. wrapped in a fluffy robe after, clean and smelling like soap.

15. reading a good fantasy novel. feeling violently small as you imbibe a new universe, getting attached to the characters, stepping out of yourself and this world for a while. so engrossed in the fiction that you take a few minutes to re-adjust when you complete it, running an awed palm across the back of the book.

16. smiling at a stranger on the metro because they’re staring at you. them smiling back. both of you awkwardly looking away, still smiling. in that moment, feeling connected to and compassion for every person in the compartment.

17. stumbling across a song that scratches your brain just right. the hair on the back of your neck standing up as you pay attention to the lyrics. every atom in your body fiercely alive, only able to focus on the music, already knowing that you’re going to listen to it again again again just one more time.

do share some choice items from your joylists with me in the comments. knowing your personal fireflies is the last item on my own joylist, actually. what are the little things that make you happy?

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English Recitation Competition

1. [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in], E. E. Cummings (full poem here) (thodi edition here)

   here is the deepest secret nobody knows
   (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
   and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
   higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
   and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
   
   i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
   

2. Stability Is a Feeling, Nazifa Islam (full poem here)

   I find myself horrified
   of the future; the woman I want to be
   
   is implausible. Voicing
   my tender ideas is not possible.
   
   The book of poems inside me
   is desperate for morning.
   

3. Sleep Hygiene, Jill Khoury (full poem here)

   Among other things, do not build your bed on dictionaries
   or books of any kind.
   
   A bed is best made from a wood frame, or metal, or dark matter.
   
   A bed should be free of lye, lime, and liars.
   
   One should be able to enter the bed and think
   I could fly far away in this. I could die; I could just die.
   

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The Good Side of the Internet

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A Picture!

Jahnavi’s Song Diary, obviously. circa 2004/2005

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this week’s Song

Run From Me by Timber Timbre

find all shared songs here.

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thank you for reading, and see you next week <3

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yes? no? maybe? let me know!