Satyam Unfiltered

By Satyam He didn’t forget the night. He carried it. Like a scar—not ugly, but earned. A reminder of where he’d been… and what he survived. Now, the world looked different. Not easier. But clearer. He had no map. No guarantee. Just a decision: “I will not waste my second chance.” The fight ahead wasn’t against monsters or enemies. It was against something deeper: Laziness disguised as comfort. Fear pretending to protect him. Doubt whispering, “Why try?” But he’d heard those voices before. And now, he knew how to silence them—with action. He began small. Woke up on time. Took notes in class. Studied for an hour, even when his mind drifted. Wrote a page. Deleted half. Rewrote it again. Because this time, he wasn’t chasing perfection. He was chasing progress . Every morning, he put on his invisible armor: Not confidence, but commitment . Not motivation, but discipline . The world didn’t cheer for him. No one clapped when he chose the harder path. But he didn’...

By Satyam The night didn’t end with victory. There were no claps. No grand revelations. Only breath. And that was enough. When the sky began to shift from black to blue, he was still awake. Not refreshed. Not fixed. But present. For the first time in weeks, he noticed the sound of birds. Not loud. Just there. A small reminder that life doesn’t pause, even when you do. His room looked the same—unmade bed, half-read books, and yesterday’s clothes on the chair. But something inside him had changed. Not completely. Not dramatically. But slightly. Quietly. He stood by the window, letting the early light touch his face. It didn’t feel like a new beginning. But it felt like a chance. A chance to try again. The pain wasn’t gone. The weight was still there. But it wasn’t crushing him anymore. He was still breathing beneath it. That morning, he didn’t make promises. Didn’t plan to “fix everything.” He just made a choice— To move one step forward. To take a shower. To...

By Satyam They didn’t see the battles he fought. Because he fought them in silence. At night. Alone. No armor. No sword. Just scars. And a tired heart that refused to give up. By day, he smiled like everyone else. Laughed when people did. Nodded when he had to. But when the world slept, his mind awoke—louder than any alarm. Regret whispered. Doubt screamed. And memories marched like soldiers through his chest. He wasn’t fearless. He was just used to fear. He wasn’t heartless. He’d just built walls to protect what was left of it. They called him lazy when he couldn’t get out of bed. Selfish when he stopped picking up calls. Distant when his replies were dry. But none of them knew—he was still showing up, even if barely breathing inside. They didn’t know what it meant to survive while feeling like a ghost. To carry the weight of expectations that don’t match the energy you have left. To want to scream but stay silent… because what if no one listens? But here's...

Sleep has abandoned me. My thoughts are spinning, faster than the fan above my head. Today, the results of my 12th-grade board exams will be announced. And I’m not ready. Not because I didn’t care. But because deep down, I know the truth—I never prepared the way I should have. I kept telling myself, “Tomorrow, I’ll study. Just not today.” Now there are no more tomorrows left. It’s noon. My phone won’t stop buzzing. Notification after notification. I finally pick it up. Tushar is calling. “Satyam… the result is out. Check now,” he says. His voice is quiet. Not excited. Not loud. Just… serious. Like he already knows something I don’t. We’ve been friends for two years. Our new classes are about to begin. This is supposed to be the start of everything. Dreams. Effort. A better life. But dreams lie sometimes. They make you believe you can do anything—until reality smacks you in the face. And the truth? Dreams don’t begin with talent. They begin with hardwork,  disci...