How to be Happy in 101 Days by Tishani Doshi

Adore stone. Learn to manoeuvre

against the heat of things. Should

you see butterflies gambol in the air,

resist the urge to pinch their wings.

Look for utilitarian values of violence.

Use the knife lustily: to peel the mango's

jealous skin, to wean bark and cut bread

for the unending hunger of stray dogs.

Renounce your house. Take just one

object with you. Slip it in your pocket.

Marvel at how a simple thing can

connect the variegated skeins of time.

On the 99th day, you must surrender

this object, but until then feel free

to attach sentiment to it. Find a forest

to disappear in. Look for thirst-quenching

plants. Rub the smooth globes of their roots

in our palms before biting in to their hearts.

Lean backwards and listen to the slippery

bastard of your own arrhythmic heart.

Remind yourself that you feel pain,

therefore you must be alive. Stain

your fingers with ink. Set out into

the world and prepare to be horrified.

Do not close your eyes. Catch a fish.

Smash its head and watch the life gasp

out of it. Spit the bones into sand.

Offer your bones to someone.

Clavicles are the chief seducers

of the human body. When you hear

the snap, allow yourself a shudder.

Find a tree to hold all the faces

of your dead—their hair, their rings.

Hang their solemn portraits from branches.

If you cannot find happiness in death

you will not complete the course.

Give your child to a stranger.

If you are childless, offer the person

you love best. Do not ask about possible

ways of mistreatment. Trust it will be terrible.

Climb a mountain. Feel how much larger

the world is when you're alone.

Try to find words or images

to explain your loss. Give up. Stand on your head.

Grow dizzy on your own blood.

Spend the night in the cemetery.

Keep still and listen to the dead chortle.

Tattoo your face. Do not bother with the stars.

They are for romantics (who are not happy

people). Learn to steer through darkness.

If you're attacked, spread your legs and say,

Brother, why are you doing this to me?

​​​​​​When you approach a crossing in the woods,

take the one instinct tells you to take.

When you are knee-deep in mud, turn

around and try the other path in order

to understand how little you know

of yourself. In a few days you'll be ready

for the sublime. Before that, meditate

in a cave. If a tigress finds you, offer her

the meat of your thighs, give her cubs

your breasts. If tigers are already extinct,

wait for some other hairy, hungry creature

to accost you. It will happen.

It is important for you to lose both

body and mind. Dig a hole in the earth

with your hands. Place your treasured

object in it and thrill at how little

it means to let it go. On the 101st

day, search out a mirror. Strip

away your clothes. Inch up to

your reflection. Much of the success

of this course will depend on what you see.

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Strange Captivity by Marya Zaturenska