Eunoia. (2025)

14/07/2025

"Small things that made me smile this week"

I sat by the window, holding a cup of chai:
My eyes chasing the running clouds,
Something in me misses the city crowds.
I am content in the melody of slow and steady sounds,
But it looks so fun those city's
Magic merry-go-rounds.
Something in the city lights attracts me
For the chaos and louds.
In my view, there’s an old tree standing proud,
Never to leave the lush green land
Even in it's bad drought time, the tree has vowed.
I admired the land as farmers plowed,
While I heard something in the kitchen meowed,
A town life never leaves me bored,
Still, there is a great greed for life abroad.
I dream of fast life while peace is still adored,
My curious self wants both explored.
The limited time is easily ignored,
It’s easy if I can freely get on board,
But it can cost a bit to Me
Since the idea’s like a half built sword.
Life’s not a golden thread,
But a silver cord.
For it is to live and risk then to keep my gate safely closed .
The fact is :
" One's Life's not a balancing board ".

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12/07/2025

He flew on wings made of old letters,
Each word a feather, heavy with time,
Yet light enough to lift him into memory's sky.

The ink, though faded, but still whispered her name,Soft echoes caught in the folds of paper dreams.

These weren't just letters they were scars and shelter, Written with shaky hands and the hush of distant feeling.

Some letters holds hope forever and unforgettable moments. Others burned like truths spoken too late and Tears bluring lines meant to hold something true.

Love had not ended, it had changed its shape,
A war waged in silence, in growing apart,
Yet each word still reached for what once was.

And still he flew, wounded but rising,
Carried by words written when he still believed,Each one a memory grasping the hope.

And every line he read again became armor,
Not to protect but to understand who he had become,And to remember that even in goodbye, he had once loved deeply.

But he was still tucked between words of her,
that nothing could last Forever unless it was him.

And somewhere between the fading lines of letters,his quiet question remained!
if she would be his nothing?
in a world where nothing lasts Forever.

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09/07/2025

She found a tree, a sapling shy
Beneath the blue endless sky
She gave water, it gave shade
In silence their friendship stayed

She watched it grow, she watched it climb
Through summers, monsoons and through time
The tree grew tall, so did she
Two lives bound by a destiny

She told it secrets none would hear
Their bond remained strong, far or near
It heard her laughter, held her pain
Receiving both sun and rain

But as leaves fall, so did she
And her youth became a distant memory
They looked around for wood to burn
And found the tree where her memories turn

They cut it down, her precious tree
Burned so high to set her free
The trunk she hugged with glee
Turned into ash so silently

What she grew with love and grace
Held her ashes in its embrace
No farewell no goodbye
Just smoke that flew into the sky

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27/06/2025

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Writeup:._.11
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26/06/2025

[Oct 31st, Thursday]
Today Brian called me around noon. His voice was trembling with excitement, a rare thing for him. He said he was selected into something called the "Special Integration Cadre." I asked what it meant, but he laughed and said even he didn't know exactly. The higher-ups just called it an honor. He left that evening, not even a kiss. Just a wave. It felt cold when he shut the door.

[Nov 4th, Monday]

I got a call. Brian had been in an "incident." That's all they said. The woman on the line kept repeating that word like it would erase the dread sinking into my chest. I took the first bus I could take and reached the hospital that night. He was in a room, strapped to the bed, pale and shaking. He looked right at me and cried, babbling some nonsense, like an escapee from an asylum.

[Nov 5th, Tuesday]

The doctors said he was shell shocked. Post-traumatic stress resulting in disassociation and language confusion. I stayed with him for hours, watching his hands twitch and curl like he was learning how to use them. I asked them what happened, what the mission was, but everything was classified.

[Dec 5th, Thursday]

Brian was discharged. I expected a broken man, but he walked into the house tall and silent, almost perfect. Too perfect. No twitching. No nightmares. He kissed me like he knew he had to, not because he wanted to. I told myself it was trauma, that war rewired him. But he watched me sleep. Not lovingly. Just observed.

[Dec 9th, Monday]

He never blinked during conversations. He didn’t eat unless I reminded him. And when he walked, it was too smooth. Like he was gliding. That night I touched his chest while he slept his heartbeat was regular, too regular. Like a machine ticking at a fixed interval. His chest barely rose when he breathed.

[Continued in comments...]

22/06/2025

The year was 1942.

India was burning with the spirit of freedom. Across India, the voice of “QUIT INDIA” was echoing through the streets and villages.A final call of the Indian Freedom Struggle with a rallying-cry of “DO OR DIE” was commenced
The tyranny of the British government had broken the final barrier.

In midst of these, stood a small town of Amritpur, full of plucky and Valorant youths, protesting against the Firangi Raj. In a tiny mud house lived Arjun, a 12 year old boy having heart of a lion in the body of a child.....His father was a freedom fighter, often away with the revolutionaries..... His mother, kind and loving, taught Arjun about the dream of an independent India.

One stormy night , things went at odd for Arjun…….British soldiers raided their house and dragged his father away…..His mother wept and her health deteriorated……A few weeks later, she passed away leaving Arjun all alone, shattering his world….
The boy who once dreamt of kites and mangoes, now wandered the streets with a shattered heart and an empty stomach……
“Papa , please come back…”was the only thought that kept him alive…..Arjun, on one hand wanted to see his motherland independent….whereas on the other blames it for deprieving him of the basic necessities….
“Why must we be treated like this in our own country?” Arjun wondered…

One day while sitting under an old banyan tree, he read a thrown pamphlet stating “India belongs to us … We must fight with courage and not fear”…
Arjun’s soul caught fire with courage…. Though small, weak and bereft , he joined the freedom struggle with a tattered tricolour that her mother had sewn……As he stepped forward, with a tricolor in his hand, his fears fell silent – he was emboldened, heart roaring louder than any war cry…..He became a secret messenger……..Stood at the front, ablaze with courage, his voice louder than fear itself…Many times he was chased and beaten up but his father’s word of “NEVER BOW TO INJUSTICE” kept resonating…..The days were hard, Arjun often went hungry but the thought of seeing India free filled him with hope.
[Continued in comments ....]

22/06/2025

The year was 1942.

India was burning with the spirit of freedom. Across India, the voice of “QUIT INDIA” was echoing through the streets and villages.A final call of the Indian Freedom Struggle with a rallying-cry of “DO OR DIE” was commenced
The tyranny of the British government had broken the final barrier.

In midst of these, stood a small town of Amritpur, full of plucky and Valorant youths, protesting against the Firangi Raj. In a tiny mud house lived Arjun, a 12 year old boy having heart of a lion in the body of a child.....His father was a freedom fighter, often away with the revolutionaries..... His mother, kind and loving, taught Arjun about the dream of an independent India.

One stormy night , things went at odd for Arjun…….British soldiers raided their house and dragged his father away…..His mother wept and her health deteriorated……A few weeks later, she passed away leaving Arjun all alone, shattering his world….
The boy who once dreamt of kites and mangoes, now wandered the streets with a shattered heart and an empty stomach……
“Papa , please come back…”was the only thought that kept him alive…..Arjun, on one hand wanted to see his motherland independent….whereas on the other blames it for deprieving him of the basic necessities….
“Why must we be treated like this in our own country?” Arjun wondered…

One day while sitting under an old banyan tree, he read a thrown pamphlet stating “India belongs to us … We must fight with courage and not fear”…
Arjun’s soul caught fire with courage…. Though small, weak and bereft , he joined the freedom struggle with a tattered tricolour that her mother had sewn……As he stepped forward, with a tricolor in his hand, his fears fell silent – he was emboldened, heart roaring louder than any war cry…..He became a secret messenger……..Stood at the front, ablaze with courage, his voice louder than fear itself…Many times he was chased and beaten up but his father’s word of “NEVER BOW TO INJUSTICE” kept resonating…..The days were hard, Arjun often went hungry but the thought of seeing India free filled him with hope

[Continued in comments...]

11/06/2025

New chapter, new energy - and now, new roles!
Say hello to the team taking Eunoia into its next era:

🖋 Editors:
📣 Marketing Head:

You’ve already been such a big part of the journey, and we couldn’t be more excited to see you take the lead. Big things ahead - and we know you’ll absolutely crush it! ✨

10/06/2025

She's right:
it never ends.
Overthinking
yeah, that's one lethal habit.
Lemme explain.

I'm trapped inside never ending thoughts,
worries,
caught in the constant spiral of unwanted ideas,
baseless assumptions
and countless accusations.

Echoes of what ifs,
doubts on thyself.
walking a bit, then stumble
again and again
this low self esteem surely costs a lot.

Deep rooted anxiousness,
terrified by the unknown,
not knowing what's next.
make false stories, kill my peace,
cry in the chaos.

Who knows where the right way is?
'Cause all I can feel
Is a never ending maze.

Temporary sadness or negative energy?
is it really there,
or am I just hallucinating?

Whatever this is, it’s ugly as hell.
escape does not seem to work.
the walls expand,
It is not my territory anymore.

Caught in this loop,
struggling to find a way out.
hitting another built-up wall,
no mercy in this mind.
and now I remember
She said it

"Look... it never ends."

She’s me and I’m her
The one who amplifies the dark,
The one who feels empty and still carries on with a smile.
who doubts everything yet still loves the world as it is
You’ll get it
and the sooner you do,
you’ll realise
"It never ends"

Credits:
Writeup:
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29/05/2025

There was a time when life felt unbearably heavy. I was drowning in a sea of sadness, and no one seemed to notice. My smile was a mask, my eyes dry from holding back tears, and my heart — hollow. Every day felt the same, until one evening, while looking for a book in my closet, I noticed something strange.

A soft glow leaked through the wooden cracks. I touched the back wall — and to my surprise, it gave way. A door. A secret door.

Curiosity led me through it, and what I saw left me breathless. It was my dream world — everything I had ever wished for, waiting for me. Beautiful landscapes, luxury, success, applause, freedom — it was all mine. I didn’t have to try; things just happened for me. No expectations, no failures, no judgment. Just perfection.

But there was one catch — I was alone.

Days passed. At first, I felt peaceful. But soon, I started missing voices, laughter, arguments, hugs — people. I had everything I wanted, except someone to want it with. That’s when it hit me.

Dreams mean nothing if you can’t share them. What’s the use of a perfect world when there’s no one to call your name, no one to hold your hand, no one to say, “I see you, I’m proud of you.”

I returned to my world — still flawed, still hard — but now, I treasure it more. Because love, even when messy and imperfect, is what gives life its meaning.

That secret door still exists. But now, I no longer need it.

Credits:
Writeup:.15
Illustration:

05/05/2025

[BASED ON TRUE EVENTS]

1945. Okinawa. Hacksaw Ridge.

They say a man changes when he goes to war.
Private Desmond Doss knew that the moment his boots hit the mud at Okinawa.
But what do you call a man who refuses to change?
Not out of pride.
Not out of stubbornness.
But out of a trembling resolve to stay true to his ethics—
in a world that had long since forgotten what that meant.
To the men in his unit, he was an outsider. A coward.
“What kind of man walks into war with nothing but bandages and a Bible?”
Desmond believed that if he picked up a gun, even once, he’d lose more than just his convictions—he’d lose himself.
To him, killing, even in war, was not something God had put him on Earth to do.
He didn’t judge those who did.
But for him, healing was the only way forward.
That was his battle. That was his weapon.
The ridge rose 400 feet high—a near-vertical wall.
American troops had managed their way to the top, only to be met with a hellfire of mortar and bullets.
Soon enough the battlefield had turned into a graveyard made of broken bodies.
Command gave the order no soldier ever wants to hear: “Fall back.”
And so they did—rushing down the ridge, leaving behind injured men who were still breathing, still crying out in agony, still dying.
But Desmond didn’t flinch, with only one thought bothering his conscience:
“If I leave now…who will help them?”
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their faces.
Young. Terrified. Screaming for mothers they’d never see again.
The gunfire had begun to fade, replaced by an eerie silence that never meant peace.
Night fell without mercy.
Whatever light the stars could offer was swallowed by the smoke of war.
Japanese troops were still out there, sweeping the battlefield, checking for survivors. Not to save them, but to finish the job.
Desmond pressed himself to the earth and began to crawl. Every step forward was a risk.
The ground was soaked with blood—most of it from the shattered remains of men he couldn’t save.
No Fireteam, No Backup, No orders.
Just one man with a heart that refused to stop beating for others.
[Continued in comments]

22/04/2025

शीर्षक : धरा

धरा जो जीवन से भरी है,
आकाश, पर्वत, नदी, वन सारी,
सागर की गहराई इतनी,
नज़रों से न पूरी उतारी।

रहस्य और आशा की शक्ति,
पृथ्वी के अंतर से आती ,
पर हम उसकी उदारता को,
अक्सर नज़रअंदाज़ कर जाते हैं।

शोषण, विनाश और अत्याचार,
अन्याय से क्यों करें हम भार?
धरती ये सब नहीं सहेगी,
वो प्रेम और सम्मान की अधिकारी है।

कृतज्ञ रहें, आभार जताएं,
श्रद्धा से हम शीश झुकाएं,
कर्तव्य है हमारा ये सच्चा,
धरती का मान सदा बढ़ाएं।

शीर्षक : सुरक्षा की पुकार, पृथ्वी की और से।।

जन्मो तक हमे सवारा है, मानवता को इसने निखारा है, जन-जन को इसने पाला है। पेड़ो की छत, फुलो की माला, सब इसका वरदान है।।

मत कर इंसान इतना (गलत), तू फिर आकर पछताएगा, घमंड मे जो तू आसमा मे है, धरा पर आकर गिर जायेगा। जिनके वृक्षो को तुने काटा, उसी ने तेरा जिवन सवारा है।।

धरा पर सुन्दरता देखनी हो तो स्वार्थ मिटाने आगे बढ । और स्वार्थ मिटाकर आगे बढ।

जो पक्षियो का चह चहआना,

चिड़चिड़ाहट मे बदल गया। चीख सुन ले प्रकृती की, आशा धरा को आज भी है ।।
थोडा खुद को बान्ध ले, लालसा को मर दे । तेरे अंदर की ये बे बुनियाद इच्छाएं, धरती के विनाश का कारण बन गई।

सब पता फिर भी अनजान बनता, ए मानव कब मानवता लाएगा प्रकृती की यह पुकार है !!!

शब्द से नही मौसम के बदलाव से, ओज़ोन की सुराख से, और न जाने कितने सुराग से। यह प्रकृती की पुकार है, सुरक्षा के विश्वास से ।।।

धन्यवाद !! जय धरा ।।
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Eunoia.

14/07/2025

12/07/2025

09/07/2025

27/06/2025

26/06/2025

22/06/2025

22/06/2025

11/06/2025

10/06/2025

29/05/2025

05/05/2025

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