There Was a Language Only Insomniacs Could Understand - By Shreya Panwar

Written By: Shreya Panwar

Category: Poetry

Competition: Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Shreya Panwar presents a profound poetic piece titled "There Was a Language Only Insomniacs Could Understand." This evocative poem beautifully encapsulates the silent struggles faced by insomniacs, exploring themes of loneliness, restlessness, and the unique language spoken in the quiet hours of the night. Through vivid imagery and emotional depth, Shreya's work resonates with anyone who has experienced the solitude of sleepless nights.

About the Work

Shreya Panwar's poem delves into the haunting realities of insomnia, capturing the restless nights where silence amplifies thoughts into punishments. With a somber and reflective tone, the poem paints a vivid picture of the emotional turmoil faced by insomniacs. It speaks to a shared experience of loneliness and vulnerability, using powerful imagery to highlight the quiet battles fought when the world is asleep. The work invites readers to empathize with the unseen struggles that many endure in silence.

There was a language only Insomniacs could understand

Original Submission by Shreya Panwar

“There Was a Language Only Insomniacs Could Understand”

At 3 a.m.,

I stood on the balcony,

holding a cup of cold tea I had forgotten to drink,

pretending I had only come outside for air.

The truth was,

my room had started feeling unbearable.

The walls knew too much.

The silence knew too much.

Even the ceiling fan sounded cruel,

spinning the same thoughts above my head

again and again

until they no longer felt like thoughts,

but punishments.

Sleep does not come gently to me anymore.

It waits at a distance,

watching me the way strangers watch someone crying in public,

unsure whether to help,

unsure whether to leave.

Beside my pillow

sat half empty bottles of sleeping pills,

quiet little promises

that maybe tonight

my thoughts would finally grow quiet.

Most nights,

they failed me too.

People call it overthinking.

Such a harmless word

for something that can make your chest ache at midnight.

For something that turns memories into knives.

For something that leaves your body exhausted

while your mind refuses to rest.

They do not understand

how frightening it is

to be alone with your own thoughts after dark.

During the day,

life distracts you.

There are messages to answer.

People to smile at.

Responsibilities.

Noise.

Sunlight.

But at night,

there is nowhere left to hide.

Every regret returns with perfect memory.

Every loneliness grows larger in the dark.

And somehow,

the smallest things hurt the most at 3 a.m.

An unread message.

A change in someone’s tone.

A memory of who you used to be before life hardened you.

The realization that some people no longer think about you at all,

while you are still carrying entire conversations with them inside your head.

Insomnia has its own language.

Not everyone can speak it.

Only the people

who know the exact pattern of cracks on their ceiling.

Only the people

who have cried quietly enough

to avoid waking everyone else in the house.

Only the people

who replay conversations afterward

and think,

I should have said this instead.

I should have been softer.

Louder.

Better.

Only the people

who feel strangely alive at night,

even while falling apart inside it.

Somewhere between midnight and morning,

the world becomes painfully honest.

Cities look different then.

Windows glow in dark buildings

like tiny distress signals.

Balconies fill with silent people

holding their own invisible disasters close to their chests.

Someone is smoking because they cannot calm down.

Someone is staring at old photos.

Someone is rereading messages they promised themselves they had moved on from months ago.

Someone is sitting on the bathroom floor, trying not to cry loudly.

Someone is laughing at videos with tears still drying on their face.

And maybe that is the saddest part of all.

At any given moment,

thousands of us are awake together,

hurting quietly together,

speaking the same language of exhaustion and loneliness,

while believing we are completely alone in it.

About the Competition

The Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar celebrates diverse voices and creative expression across the globe. It provides a platform for writers to share their unique stories and perspectives. This prestigious event encourages participants to explore their artistic talents and connect with a community of like-minded individuals, fostering a vibrant and inclusive literary environment.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Shreya Panwar for sharing her poignant poem, "There Was a Language Only Insomniacs Could Understand," in the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her work offers a touching exploration of insomnia and its silent language. We appreciate Shreya's contribution and look forward to seeing more of her insightful creations.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.