“Room 23 Ki Khamoshi”

 The door is closed again today.

Not just to block out the world — but to find a little space within myself.

This room, small and ordinary to others, has become my shelter, my battleground, and sometimes, my only companion.

Yes, I’m alone again.

But this time… I’m not weak.

There was a time when I feared silence. I feared being unseen, unheard.

But now, this silence has started speaking to me. Loudly. Clearly. Honestly.

People often think strength looks loud — like confidence, like control, like constant energy.

But I’ve come to learn that real strength can be quiet.

It can be found in waking up alone, crying quietly, studying with a tired heart, and still showing up the next day — not for anyone else, but for yourself.

I didn’t choose to be alone.

But I chose to stay — with myself.

To heal, to focus, to protect what little peace I’ve built after years of internal storms.

There are days when the books blur, when my heart feels heavier than my pen.

There are nights when I want to scream, but instead I write.

And through all of it — I stay.

Not because it’s easy.

But because I know this version of me, the one that rises in silence, is becoming unshakable.