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The overthinking me realised that, Sundarantesundari Was a racist term. - shubham
The overthinking me realised that, Sundarantesundari Was a racist term. - shubham- Jaanuu
- Profile post
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Love.
Nink nth vishwasich oru love letter okke ezhuthum njan :confused:- Jaanuu
- Post #5
- Forum: Kerala Room
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Love.
How many times must I write you, before the ink refuses me? Each word I reach for trembles, because your voice arrives first. ("Actions speak louder than words" Speak. Speak. Speak.) It echoes in the narrow rooms of thought, where silence once belonged to me, and I, like a traveller, borrow...- Jaanuu
- Thread
- Replies: 10
- Forum: Kerala Room
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY MASTHUMMAAAAAAAA❤️
Happy birthday mastu @Mastani ❤️- Jaanuu
- Post #2
- Forum: Kerala Room
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Love shouldn't have happened ~
It was okay to meet you as long as I talked to you, I just shouldn't have fallen in love with you. I liked to talk with you throughout the day; It didn't take much time for it to become a habit for me. Earlier, it was okay; I only cared about you. Talking to you even for a little bit of time was...- Jaanuu
- Thread
- Replies: 4
- Forum: Kerala Room
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Eruption.
Under this ceiling, we meet again but the air between us has soured. Fear is not a shadow that follows me; it is a pulse living inside my veins. Every time our lips meet, I am searching. I look for the traces of another’s name, the lingering heat of a different touch. I fear that your skin has...- Jaanuu
- Thread
- Replies: 6
- Forum: Kerala Room
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✨ A Walk Through My Flower Folder ✨❤️
Aww that's so refreshing.. Love ♡ -
Venom?
The evening chai smells like a familiar poison, a slow venom I have swallowed for months, pretending it warms me while it hollows me out. Each sip feels like a quiet suicide performed not out of courage but out of the weary exhibition of the turmoil I no longer know how to hide. The same... -
When you distance yourself from people, yet still feel bound to them by invisible debts of the...
When you distance yourself from people, yet still feel bound to them by invisible debts of the heart, you wait for their return as if waiting for a verdict. And in that waiting, a strange cruelty unfolds, for it feels as though you are driving a blade into your own chest, punishing yourself...- Jaanuu
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