Moods of Mind

Everything I hide, I write here. unlocked, yet unread. secret kept by writing it out loud.

[coffeepageplanter]

"I exist in the pauses and the pages you almost skipped."

In some universe, I am in the deep green woods, far away from the human race Oh! so untouched Oh! so free, teaching my roses to trust the rain again. And spending my mornings sipping in silence with coffee that tastes like stillness, grading my sunflowers and marigolds that how bravely they bloomed that week when the surrounding was bit more heavier and uncertain. And my bookshelves bend under the weight of unread endings.

But that’s just one version.

Because in another universe whether in legal arguments or lavender fields I remain the same. People mistake me for calm. But it’s not calm it’s depth. It’s knowing how to carry oceans in silence and how to cry in ways that only plants understand. I feel things too loudly in a world that worships quiet indifference. I write things I can’t say out loud, and love in ways I’ll never confess directly and then i over-romanticize. I’m a little messy like tangled fairy lights in a forgotten box. I’m still learning how to be soft without being walked over, still trying to give love without becoming invisible.

If I ever disappear, look for me where things grow slowly: between pages of unfinished novels, under the shade of trees that don’t ask for anything, in a voice note never sent, in a gaze held one second too long. And if you find me really find me just know I move like honey, trust like moonlight, and love like roots: deep, silent, and unshakable.

[coffeepageplanter]

[coffeepageplanter]

अब जब मौत मुझे ढूँढे,

तो यूँ आए

जैसे कोई बहुत पुराना दोस्त

आख़िरकार मेरा पता पा गया हो।

धीरे से हाथ थामकर कहे

"आओ अब,

बहुत निभा लिया तुमने,

अब लड़ाई ख़त्म हुई…

बहुत देर तक अकेले लड़ी तुम।"

वो मेरी आँखों के नीचे

जमी सदियों की थकान पढ़ ले,

मेरी ख़ामोशियों में दबे

सारे टूटे स्वर सुन ले।

फिर हल्के से मुस्कुराकर कहे

"तुमने बहुत उठाया है,

हर दुख को सीने से लगाया है,

अब ये बोझ मुझे दे दो,

थोड़ी देर सिर्फ़ सो जाओ…"

"यहाँ कोई शोर नहीं होता,

कोई दिल रोज़ नहीं रोता,

यहाँ यादें साँस नहीं काटतीं,

यहाँ रातें खुद को नहीं बाँटतीं।"

मैं शायद पहली बार

बिना डरे रो पड़ूँ।

और मौत

मेरे उलझे बालों को धीरे से सँवारते हुए कहे

"तुमने बहुत उठाया है…

हर टूटन को मुस्कान से छुपाया है,

हर दर्द को आदत बताकर

खुद को समझाया है।"

"अब सुंदर दिखना ज़रूरी नहीं,

अब मज़बूत दिखना ज़रूरी नहीं,

अब हर बार टूटकर भी

खड़े होना ज़रूरी नहीं।"

"अब कुछ साबित नहीं करना,

अब किसी के लिए नहीं मरना,

यहाँ सिर्फ़ सुकून है…

यहाँ तुम रख सकती हो

अपनी सारी थकान।"

फिर मैं अपनी रूह उतार दूँ

उसकी हथेलियों में धीरे से,

और वो मुझे यूँ थाम मेरा माथा चूम ले

जैसे की उसे हमेशा से पता हो

की कितनी थक चुकी हूँ मैं।

-S00nya

[coffeepageplanter]

I realized the other day just how much of a night owl I’ve become. I completely forgot that I actually used to love slow, early mornings.

Somewhere along the line between overthinking in the dark, ignoring my phone, and just enjoying the peace of being awake while everyone else is asleep. I kind of lost the person who loved waking up early.

Maybe that’s why mornings feel a bit weird to me now. On the rare days I do wake up with the sun, it’s almost like running into a past version of myself. You know, the version that was actually well-rested and didn't have a million things keeping them up at night.

It’s crazy how much you can change without even realizing it.

You go from being someone who thrives on sunshine and morning coffee, to someone who only really feels like themselves at 2 AM.

[coffeepageplanter]

"I am allowing this colour to teach me what I am ready to receive."

Colour: White

Title: Beginning Without Noise

Manifestation: Clarity, fresh starts, inner peace, space to receive without pressure

Affirmation: “I allow clarity to enter my life gently.”

It is not absence. It is restraint. It is choosing not to react. Not to explain. Not to fill every silence with meaning. This is me, holding back what I could say, and trusting that what matters doesn’t need decoration. I am learning that peace doesn’t announce itself. It simply stays.

[coffeepageplanter]

[coffeepageplanter]

[coffeepageplanter]

Today, being away from home, I miss it more than anything and living this far from family makes it even harder. The festival of Dussehra reminds me not only of the celebrations, but also of the warmth of togetherness. It always takes me back to a core memory with Papa going out, eating tikki chaat, and all those little treats. I remember the excitement of those moments, but what I cherish most is how he always made sure I had everything before I even asked. That care, that silent love I miss the most. The laughter, the chaat, the little happy moments all of it feels heavier in their absence today. Wishing everyone a very Happy Dussehra may this day bring light, love, and togetherness into your lives.

[dumblr]

[coffeepageplanter]

growing older feels like

learning a secret

time bends for love,

but stiffens into excuses

for everything else.

what matters is never late,

what doesn’t…

always arrives dressed as

“i am sorry i couldn’t .”

-Sh00nya

[coffeepageplanter]

Ghar ki Khoje raat din ghar se nikale paon vo rasta hi kho gaya jis raste tha Gaon...

Sometimes you think you want to disappear, but deep down all you really want is to be found. And in search of that 'found,' I came so far… yet somewhere along the way I got lost. Now I feel homesick, still searching, still panicking because I don’t even know where home truly is.

"Maine Kitna chaha hai ki tum mujhe chaho"

-Sh00nya

[acadmicvictimsblog]

When they can’t call you dumb, they say you’re over smart.

[coffeepageplanter]

Hahahhaah

Iykyk

[coffeepageplanter]

जब एक दिन चली जाऊँगी ये सब जीवन जंजाल

यहीं छोड़ कर तुम सबके साथ

तब सोचते रहना कि क्या हुआ होगा

इतना मुस्कराती तो थी, इतनी खुशमिजाज तो थी

अचानक ऐसा क्या हुआ होगा?

जब जानना चाहोगे और जान नहीं पाओगे

जब पूछना चाहोगे पर पूछ नहीं पाओगे

जब गले लगाना चाहोगे और लगा नहीं पाओगे

जब पाना चाहोगे और पा नहीं पाओगे

जब अपनी कहना चाहोगे और कह नहीं पाओगे

शायद तब होगा एहसास

कि ऐसा क्या हुआ होगा...

शायद तब समझ पाओगे कि क्यों चली गई होगी

यूँ हँसते-हँसाते, सबके जैसे दिखते-दिखाते भी...

छोड़कर...

जब एक दिन चली जाऊँगी ये सब जीवन जंजाल

यहीं छोड़कर तुम सबके साथ...

-Sh00nya

[coffeepageplanter]

I keep blooming where no one stays

I didn’t mean to love this deep,

to give my soul, to lose my sleep.

like wildflowers chasing skies,

i kept on blooming through goodbyes.

I wasn’t born to beg or cling,

but love, it made me do this thing

to pour and plant in silent ground,

then ache when no one stays around.

They took my warmth, then asked me why

I gave my sun, my lullaby.

as if my love was just excess,

as if my depth was worth much less.

I only wanted hands to hold,

a quiet hug when nights felt cold.

not pity eyes or second guess

just love without the emptiness.

i see myself as a fading frame,

a burning wick without a flame.

a girl who gave, and in return,

was left with tears she had to learn.

how do i stop this wanting ache,

without pretending it’s all fake?

how do i choose to walk away,

from dreams that beg for him to stay?

don’t call me weak, or “too intense,”

i’m just a soul with no defense.

a garden begging for some rain,

not mocked for how it hides its pain.

if i’m too much, then let me be

the storm, the fire, the broken sea.

the sky that cries and still remains,

the rose that bleeds from loving veins.

i bloom in places love won’t grow,

i write in silence, let it show 

that even girls who fall apart,

can still rebuild a softer heart.

so don’t ask why i stayed too long,

why every tear still hums his song.

this isn’t ruin it’s just me,

learning to love who i can’t be.

-Sh00nya

[natkhat-sa-shyam]

but how do you run away from the things that are inside your head?

[coffeepageplanter]

Signed. Sealed. Gone.

They say letters are a thing of the past writing one feels like a forgotten ritual and maybe the world has made peace with blue ticks and blinking cursors but there was a time when words weren’t typed they were touched felt folded into corners of aching paper ink held the weight of silences and every smudge carried a story not just what was said but what trembled between the lines and now when the closing of registered post is about to it feels like one more thread of tenderness quietly slips away you can call it progress speed fast track whatever you like but no tracking id can trace the softness of waiting no digital ping can carry the scent of longing that lived in old envelopes love took its time back then and so did words and this old soul still aches for the kind of letter that didn’t just arrive but stayed with you long after it was read.

माना चिठ्ठियों के सिलसिले पुराने हो गये, खत लिख ना पाने के बहाने हो गये, मगर पुराने खतों की वो बात कहाँ से लाओगे , चिट्ठियाँ लिखे तो जमाने हो गये। 

Technology can't replace the real essens of letters

-Sh00nya

[coffeepageplanter]

Some days I wonder if there’s still anything left in me that feels whole. I was the “perfect girl” once good at everything, sharp, kind, responsible, always trying. Always giving. And yet, somehow, I became the disappointment. Too emotional. Too quiet. Too loud. Too sensitive. Too much. Too less. Too “everything” except enough.

I built walls around my heart so high. That no one can ever enter. Because when your heart’s been broken even just once like really broken you stop letting anyone close enough to bruise it again.and it's about every relationship not only the romantic ones.

And then someone came. Who didn’t climb the walls insted saw them saw me. And for a moment, I believed maybe I wasn’t that hard to love after all probably I also seen. But circles are cruel. I found myself back where I started unwanted, unheard, invisible. And the hardest part? Knowing I was still looking for validation, when all I ever wanted was to feel like I belonged.

Everyone says “learn to love yourself.” But how do you love someone you’ve only ever picked apart? I know I’m supposed to choose me. But what if I don’t know how? What if I’ve always been the girl who loves others too deeply because she never learned how to hold that same softness for herself?

And still... I’m here. Not fixed. Not fine. Just trying. If nothing else, this is me saying to the world I exist. I’m still breathing. I’m still reaching. Even when it feels like I’m no one’s first choice.

Maybe one day, I’ll choose me. But until then, I’ll sit with the ache and write my heart out in the hope that someone out there feels a little less alone reading this.

A girl with a cracked walls around her heart and a heart still beating inside them........

-Sh00nya