the little joys of the outside world. (NaPoWriMo #27)

1. waking up refreshed. with your eyes having neither the bags of insomnia nor the droopiness of having over-slept. waking up exactly when you intended to. not a minute more, not a minute less.

2. watching sugar in hot tea dissolve into nothingness, but still be the defining element that makes or breaks the flavour. having toast soak just the right amount of tea.

3. ironing out the creases in your clothes till they’re baby-skin smooth. then wearing the freshly pressed clothes. or wearing baggy sweaters with long arms that you can flippity flap at someone.

4. finding a seat in the local train easily. spotting faces in the train you see everyday, but have never spoken to, which give you a strange sense of comfort and unspoken bonds.

5. when you drop your phone but it doesn’t leave a scratch. when the left earphone that has been MIA for weeks starts working suddenly, and balance in the universe is restored.

6. the smell outside a bakery. the smell outside a subway outlet.

7. warmth of sheets just off the printer. the way you secretly press them against your heart as if substituting for human contact. the sound that laminated paper makes.

8. bargaining with a shopkeeper and having him actually listen, even if it is by 10 rupees. realising there’s a method to the madness after all.

9. having someone ask you for directions. and actually knowing what to say – an oddly proud moment when you’re deemed a native of the jungle. google maps who?

10. discovering gems within your locality during a solitary walk – even the act of putting one foot in front of the other around places that are as familiar to you as your own living room.


‘The Little Joys of the Outside World’
[day #27 of NaPoWriMo]

Prompt – ‘poem of something you’re scared of getting used to’

We’ve all, by now, realised the major things we took for granted since this pandemic began erupting – our friends, work, studies, things that we previously found to be tedious. For me, it’s always the little things I count on to bring me joy. I don’t want to get used to these little bubbles of happiness, and am looking forward to experiencing them again as if for the first time.

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