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Ishaan🐦‍🔥

@ishaann.in

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📍Bangalore
@theafterhourgamer 🎮

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6 years, 8 months, and 12 days

And everything is still the same.
The way you left, the way you meant it.
The hugs are the same, the memories are the same.
Warm, carefree, noisy, happy.

And it will be. I promise.

It will never be “how long has it been?”
To me, it remains yesterday.
Of course, I miss you.
I always will.
It will forever be the day before, and nothing more.

The warmth you surround me with, the power you gave me,
I carry it with me every single day.
The energy of the sun, the peace of the moon,
the constant boost of the stars.
I see you, and you see me.

Thank you, my life, my world, my every single breath.
You gave it meaning.
You show me what is possible every single day,
and I carry that with me into all the days to come.

For what I have become,
you made it feel like it was me.
But it is you.

Thank you, Papa.
Happy Birthday 🩷 by @ishaann.in

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8 months ago

Last year in April, this book left my hands.
Today, it found a chair, a table, and a stranger.

It’s sitting quietly in a book café now.

Somehow, that feels bigger than a launch.🥹🫶

This means the world to me. Thank you @inkandoak.official

More to come🩷🥹

[indie author, poetry book, debut book, offline book launch, book café, bookstore find, Indian writer, contemporary poetry, quiet milestones, author journey]

#IndieAuthor
#PoetryBook
#BookCafe
#IndianWriter
#authorjourney by @ishaann.in

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9 months ago

It started quietly.
In moments I couldn’t name, in words I never shared.
But today, I share them all—with you.
My book is finally out.

A piece of my heart, my fear, my becoming.
I hope you find a little of yourself in these pages too.

Buy your copy now! You’re going to love it. ☺️🥹

#LinkInBio 💌

#author #poetry #poetrycommunity #newbook #everythingleftunsaid by @ishaann.in

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a year ago

My happy place, my world, my forever, happy birthday🩷
Love you baby🐰 by @ishaann.in

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12 hours ago

If I could save time in a bottle 🫶 by @ishaann.in

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5 months ago

Vo zara shirt press me deni thi 👉🏻👈🏻🍓 by @ishaann.in

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6 months ago

Happy Birthday Sweet (but not so little) Girl 😚😚😚 by @ishaann.in

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8 months ago

Felt peachy, might not delete ever😌 by @ishaann.in

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9 months ago

Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
— Iris Murdoch

Overthinking, often mistaken for insecurity,
is only the mind refusing to accept what matters.
Misread, its depth flattened,
when in truth it is attention overstaying its welcome.

The only thing that survives overthinking
is love,
not the gentle kind,
but the one that insists on another’s reality
even when it unsettles your own.

It is worth it.
To possess love is not ownership,
but acknowledgment,
that something exists beyond you
and asks to be taken seriously.

Selfishness, then, is not the hunger to keep,
but the refusal to disappear.
It is the courage to feel fully,
to choose attachment despite the cost.

That sentence I encountered
did not comfort me,
it resuscitated me.
Like a shock to a stalled heart,
it brought life back to places
I had declared clinically dead.

Intentional, surfaced like Arctic ice,
slow, undeniable.

Confided in,
as though I were the last remaining hope,
asked to hold the weight
until recovery felt possible.

I was shunned.
I am shunned.
What do I owe in return,
silence, distance, restraint?

Perhaps this is overthinking,
the mind pacing like a madman.
Making others uneasy.
Inviting doubt.

And yet,
it exists even then.
It existed before it mattered to him.

[unreciprocated love, emotional responsibility, recognition of the other, quiet intimacy, overthinking, existential connection, being seen, mature poetry, inner conflict, literary reflection]

#maturepoetry #quietlove #literarythoughts #innerlife #poetrycommunity by @ishaann.in

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9 months ago

A little bit of everything 😏 by @ishaann.in

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10 months ago

~
Passion.
I submitted to it.
It humbled me.
“Have a passion, let it run for you,” they said.
What they never said is that it does not stay the same.

I wrote for my heart in the beginning.
The life it gave me was thrilling.
To feel deeply, to live in a style I would be proud of.
I wanted more.

Now I write for a living.
Passion took the back seat.
Heart?

I used to ask myself where it would take me.
I was curious.
Then it took me, and now I feel stranded.

I cannot step back.
Only forward.
Heart still sits in the back seat.

Money changes people.
It changed me.
One piece after another,
I broke into several.
It all became transactional.
I still want more, but now I fear losing it.

I know I have to make changes.
Grow past pain and old emotions.
Live for a living.
Do everything I can while I can.
So I have no regrets.

Passion is still there, knocking.
It has been for a long time.
I simply could not hear it.
Now I do.
I open the door and it brings tears to my eyes.

Pain, joy, laughter, anger, all of it matters.
I blamed passion for the worst.
I never realised it is the reason
I am who I am.

And now
I will keep answering the door.
It is the only thing more eternal than myself.
.
.
.
.
.
.
#poetrycommunity #writersofinstagram #poetsofig

[writing, poetry, self reflection, rediscovery, passion, writer life, emotional healing, creative journey, introspection, authenticity] by @ishaann.in

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10 months ago

A little bit of red in everything 😉 by @ishaann.in

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a year ago