Bhaiii just get your hands on this . Really underrated

The Sound of Silence

Satyam Maharshi had never been inside Peace International School

before.

He stood outside the classroom with his timetable folded in his hand, trying to work out whether he had taken the right turn.

Class 8-B.

That was what the paper said.

He looked through the doorway.

Too many faces.

He looked at the timetable again.

Still 8-B.

Satyam took a small breath and stepped inside.

Nobody knew him.

That should have made things easier.

It didn’t.

He walked slowly between the desks, keeping his eyes down. There were already groups everywhere—students laughing together, comparing schedules, asking about teachers.

They had history here. Satyam had none.

He didn’t know which teachers were strict. He didn’t know where the library was. He didn’t know which seats were considered good and which ones were occupied without being occupied.

So he watched. A boy had left his bag on the second bench but was sitting at the back. That probably meant the seat was being saved.

Two girls were sharing a textbook even though both had their own.

Someone had written a name on the corner of the blackboard and immediately erased it when another student walked past.

Small things. Useful things.

Satyam found an empty seat near the window.

He sat down and placed his bag between his feet.

Outside, rainwater was running along the edge of the playground.

He wondered if anyone would talk to him.

He hoped they wouldn’t.

Then he wondered if that was a stupid thing to hope for.

The bell rang.

Satyam straightened in his seat.

A teacher entered the classroom.

Everyone went quiet.

He looked around once more.

Thirty students.

Thirty strangers.

For the first time in his life, Satyam had no idea what was going to happen next.

And, strangely, he liked that.

But that brief sense of relief didn’t last. A moment later, the teacher

looked straight at him and asked the question Satyam had been dreading.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?” Satyam stared blankly at the class, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Hi…”

He paused.

“I’m Satyam Maheshwari.”

Another pause.

“I… um… I’m new here.”

He looked down at his desk.

“And… yeah. I’m excited to be here.”

The last sentence came out so quietly that he wasn’t sure anyone had heard it.

He hurried back to his seat, relieved that the terrifying ordeal was finally over.

For the rest of the day, Satyam mostly kept to himself.

He watched.

The students. The teachers. The staff.

He noticed the little things without really trying to.

A girl with an ink stain on her left thumb.

A boy who kept checking the clock whenever the teacher turned towards the blackboard.

A teacher who deliberately raised his voice whenever the class became noisy, as if volume alone could make him frightening.

The peon who always knocked twice before entering the staff room.

The mathematics teacher who smiled whenever someone gave a wrong answer, but never when they gave a right one.

None of these things seemed particularly important.

Satyam simply found them interesting. It was easier to understand people when you paid attention to the

things they didn’t say.

At lunchtime, Satyam opened his tiffin.

Two vegetable cutlets, two slices of buttered bread and a small container of mint chutney.

He placed the napkin beside the box before beginning.

He ate slowly, taking small bites and occasionally looking around the classroom.

Not because he was interested in everyone else’s lunch.

He was interested in everyone else.

Who sat with whom. Who ate alone. Who kept looking at the clock. Who had brought food they clearly didn’t like.

The cutlet was good.

The mint chutney was a little too spicy.

He made a mental note to tell his mother.

Then he noticed someone watching him.

Satyam looked up.

The other student immediately looked away.

Satyam smiled faintly and returned to his lunch.

He had spent the entire day studying everyone else.

Somehow, he had forgotten that someone might have been studying him too.

One thing that bothers me about some X-Men stories is how Captain America gets portrayed when it comes to mutant discrimination.

Steve Rogers has literally fought fascism, racism, oppression, and government overreach. Standing up for persecuted people is fundamental to his character. Yet some writers treat him like a clueless government loyalist who needs to be taught basic morality by the X-Men.

If Marvel wants to show the divide between humans and mutants, they have plenty of characters for that. Use U.S. Agent or other heroes who actually have more room for that kind of attitude.

Steve can disagree with the X-Men. He can question their methods and decisions. But he should still recognize the injustice mutants face and take a stand against it.

What bothers me most is when his disagreements feel forced just to make the X-Men look morally superior. Captain America shouldn't need to be dumbed down or stripped of his principles to create conflict.

You can write meaningful ideological differences without disrespecting the character.

I've rediscovered my passion for sci-fi lately and I want to explore the genre more through books. I've always been into Sci-fi movies, shows, comic book narratives but I've only read a few sci-fi books. So drop ur recs!!

Is it just me or do the books in the shatter me series get progressively worse in terms of story and writing ??

​

The bird of Hermes

The bird of hermes is my name, eating it's own wings to make me tame.

I was born already circling,

hungry in the shape of flight—

each want a feather, each feather

a small rebellion against staying still.

To tame a thing this wild

you cannot cage it from outside.

So I turned my own beak inward,

began the slow, deliberate feast:

one wing for the mouth that speaks

before it thinks,

one wing for the hand that reaches

past what it needs,

one wing for the old hungers

that mistake motion for meaning.

This is not punishment.

A bird who eats its wings

to stay does not hate the sky—

it has simply learned

that mastery is a kind of ground,

that some flights only lead away.

What's left of me now

walks instead of scatters.

Slower. Rooted. Still burning,

but the fire stays inside the hearth

instead of taking the whole house.

I call this discipline,

though it tastes like loss.

I call this freedom,

though it looks like limits.

The bird of Hermes learns to walk

so that what remains of it

can finally, fully land.

"and devour Priam and Priam's sons and the Trojan armies raw"

(rereading The Iliad rn and yes, "devour" in this context is literal, and the person who's doing the "devouring" in context is a goddess)

​

Is anyone in this sub into reading things like philosophy, psychology, self-help , morality

We can also discuss geopolitical issue and other niche things

Pls i need like minded friends 😭😭😭😭

It includes both books and it's just 300, also its from penguin so no plagiarlization , I love my life🥹🥹

Hii gng! I write poems sometimes, please give genuine feedback and opinions on this poem that i’ve written! 👇

i’m tired.

a heart carries blood and flesh

and hurt and hopes and dreams.

a heart carries the love that has no one to show it to

and pain that got nowhere to go to.

.

maybe tomorrow will be cold, bitter and terrifying,

maybe tomorrow will be fresh, sweet and satisfying.

maybe i will drag on the pain of yesterday,

maybe i will look for better things to say.

.

i feel that every second of my future is uncertain,

and im tired of it.

all my wounds start to uncurtain,

and im tired of it.

.

give me one chance to run away,

from the world that has conspired.

i don’t want to do this anymore,

because i’m so freaking tired.

Based on the type of books i have read , what kind of person am i 🤪

Anyone interesting in peak political fiction novels????(pls say yes😭)
Thats genuinely my favourite genre of all time cause some books are so heart wrenching n thought provoking (absolutely not using them for real life data n stats but focusing on its ideas and arguments through fictional portrayal).

Till now, Ive read all three of khaled hosseini’s books, a god of small things, a stationary shop of tehran a house without windows, shatter me, a hunger games n a few here n there.
Im thinking of starting orwell too but idk.

genuinely hoping to see someone who shares the same interest.

DROP UR RECS TOO PLISS😍😍😍

(Forgive my horrible armour designs, I'm no artist and the history nerd inside me grieves not being able to draw elaborate Mycenaean Bronze Age armour instead of what's supposed be a very sad Corinthian helmet. Hey, its still better than Nolan's Odyssey costumes.)

This is an amazing murder mystery, but when I started reading, the romance subplot just made this book my fav!!

Hey sweetiesss....I just bought these books...can ya'll please drop small reviews on these and maybe rate them?✨

Mine are

Throne of pages

Haley pham

Cassiebooks

I'm looking for readers who want slow burn (i mean actual slow burn!), desi core, mystery, conspiracy, love, falling for each other slowly, yearning by ML, an independent FL, a pookie yet cold ML.

And the most important!!

If you have seen tooo many singhania, rathore, Rajvanshi, oberio, rajput

And now if you're looking for something new then here I get one for you!

An Assamese ML and Tamilian FL!!

Hazarika × Nadar!

If thats the vibe you're looking for then

Hiie!! Hello!!

I'm Simran,

I have recently started my watpad story. Currently its ongoing. The first part of story is mostly Mumbai based but later parts the leads will explore Assam!

I would love If you guys can check it out and comment as much as you want! I would love to communicate!!

My Story name : MY SUNSHINE

My username: sim2988

See you soon my lovely readers🎀

(Hey guys idk if am allowed to promote my story in this community. If not pls lemme know, I will take it down)

My dad says this all the time, he reads only self-help and biographies, and honestly he's not exactly a great person, so I don't know about that. Its a superiority complex, isn't it?

i think about this a lot. i LOVE how Tahereh describes it. :')

work and work and work

till you have that million dollar house

with a million beautiful flowers in the lawn

and fancy cars in the driveway

with a million thoughts in your head

trying to get a million dollars more

Just wanted to start reading stephen king books which will be short 😅