There are different types of hugs. One of my favourite kinds is the one that hits in waves – unexpected, rushing towards you, looking for the shore to reach, just long enough to rest before slowly receding. It’s like the ocean: loud, monstrous, dramatic and performative on the surface, but calm and silent in the depths. It is something set out to save you, or make you skip a beat. I remember having experienced this hug only once.A friend from college, meeting me after a semester break, once crashed into me out of nowhere, knocked the breath out of me. For a second, I was sure I was dying – but no, I had only been pulled into a hug. I had at least three layers of clothing on me (thank you Delhi winters, your Kerala girl sends regards); a shame that I couldn’t feel that hug in my bones. Nevertheless, then came the words. Illustration: Pariplab ChakrabortyNow, that is the best of hugs, the one with the yearning. “I missed you,” he said. I replied, “OMG, I’ve missed you too.” Nothing I’ve ever said had felt so true, so unguarded, so sincere. And then we simply retreated; I rushed for my class (I think) and he was headed somewhere else. It’s been years since that hug, but it still reminds me of what a warm, true hug is capable of. It freed me and I hope it freed him, too.Another hug I know of is the ‘reacher hug’, the deliberate one. It is a bit rehearsed; nothing accidental or out of the blue about this one. You go in knowing you’ll need to reach for it. A bit like… surfing? Is this how you feel when you reach to catch a wave? I once routinely shared the reacher hug with a friend. Surprisingly, he was the only friend with whom the hug would last as long as I wanted it too. He never let go first.Now let me take you through what I call the ‘anticipatory hug’. This hug waits on the other side of the door knowing that there’s someone, heavy-hearted, looking for a shore to dock. It heals, reduces the head weight. This hug feels like being curled up in a woolen blanket, cozy, the kind that transports you. I once shared this with my partner. When my tilted head rested on his shoulders, he would kiss my forehead. If we indeed are made of stars, then in that moment, I melted into him. I also label this as my ‘no-regrets’ hug because everything I wanted from that hug – the intimacy, the longevity, the insistence – I got. It was perfect.I sometimes wonder whether the most important factor for a no-regrets hug is love that doesn’t shy away from affection. Finally, this should explain why I hate pretentious hugs – the perfectly coordinated etiquette peck on the cheeks hug, the almost-didn’t-happen half-side hug, or worse, patting the shoulders. They lack everything that makes a hug a hug: the crashing, the resting, the yearning, the calm, and above all, the vulnerability. What is a hug if it doesn’t break over you like a wave, consume you, and somehow still gather you whole at the shore again?Anjana Prasanth used to work as a governance consultant and has finally found time to write.We’ve grown up hearing that “it’s the small things” that matter. That’s true, of course, but it’s also not – there are Big Things that we know matter, and that we shouldn’t take our eyes, minds or hearts off of. As journalists, we spend most of our time looking at those Big Things, trying to understand them, break them down, and bring them to you.And now we’re looking to you to also think about the small things – the joy that comes from a strangers’ kindness, incidents that leave you feeling warm, an unexpected conversation that made you happy, finding spaces of solidarity. Write to us about your small things at thewiresmallthings@gmail.com in 800 words or less, and we will publish selected submissions. We look forward to reading about your experiences, because even small things can bring big joys.Read the series here.