3টা রাতে স্ক্রিন জ্বলে: ഡিজিটাল শব্দহীনতার ‘চুপচাপ’ বিদ্রোহ

আমি ভুলতেই পারি नা—আমার laptop-এর blue light,অন্ধকারকে cutting through like a ritual candle.মধ্যরাত,আমি game-এ playing-ও, work-ও not.আমি just… watching. screen-এ flicker patterns,যা कोনও one else notice korte parbe na.

সেইখনই,আমি realize korechilam—loneliness always loud nai.কখনও silent after you’ve scrolled too long,যখন fingers stop moving but mind keeps running.

Ami jabe digital noise escape means quitting apps, deleting profiles. But real freedom? Not about leaving—it’s about choosing how you show up.

Ami start noticing small things: how a single pixel could feel like an invitation; how a delayed message could carry more weight than a full inbox; how silence between beeps became sacred.

In our culture of constant output, being still feels radical. And yet—what if we’re not supposed to be always performing? What if presence is its own form of rebellion?

This isn’t about addiction or detox. It’s about reclaiming attention—not as a tool for productivity, but as an act of love for self.

I keep a notebook by my bed now—just one page. No rules. No goals. Only whatever comes: thoughts that don’t fit into posts, emotions too soft for stories, dreams too fragile for shares.

It’s not pretty. But it’s honest. And maybe that’s enough. You know that moment when you’re alone with your thoughts—and suddenly they feel alive? That’s where meaning grows. So tonight, instead of scrolling… try listening. To yourself. To the quiet hum beneath everything. To what you’ve been avoiding saying out loud—for fear it might seem too much. Because here’s what I’ve learned: you don’t need to be complete to be seen. you don’t need to perform to belong. you only need to be here—with all your unpolished edges—and let someone else see you too.