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"It was a wonderful experience interacting with you and appreciate the way you have planned and executed the whole publication process within the agreed timelines.”
Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh PalHe writes. Not for fame. Not for followers. Just to make sure the quiet ones know they’re not alone.Read More...
He writes. Not for fame. Not for followers. Just to make sure the quiet ones know they’re not alone.
Read Less...
He was never named.
He never fit in.
He never wanted to.
Born into a life that demanded perfection, he only craved freedom—freedom to dream, to feel, to fail. But the world doesn't spare boys like him. Boys who fall in love too deeply. Who breaks quietly. Who writes instead of speaking. Who burn instead of bend.
“December 1.” is the final diary of a boy who chased life like it owed him peace. From cracked classrooms and late-n
He was never named.
He never fit in.
He never wanted to.
Born into a life that demanded perfection, he only craved freedom—freedom to dream, to feel, to fail. But the world doesn't spare boys like him. Boys who fall in love too deeply. Who breaks quietly. Who writes instead of speaking. Who burn instead of bend.
“December 1.” is the final diary of a boy who chased life like it owed him peace. From cracked classrooms and late-night drives to drug highs, lost friendships, and a love that almost saved him—this is the story of a mind unraveling in slow motion. He was brilliant. He was broken. He built empires but never learned how to build himself.
Told through confessions, unsent letters, bleeding poems, and one final goodbye—this book doesn’t give answers.
It gives you him.
This isn’t a love story. It’s what happens when love comes too late.
He left to save her from himself. And now, all that remains are the pages he left behind.
He was never named.
He never fit in.
He never wanted to.
Born into a life that demanded perfection, he only craved freedom—freedom to dream, to feel, to fail. But the world doesn't spare boys like him. Boys who fall in love too deeply. Who breaks quietly. Who writes instead of speaking. Who burn instead of bend.
“December 1.” is the final diary of a boy who chased life like it owed him peace. From cracked classrooms and late-n
He was never named.
He never fit in.
He never wanted to.
Born into a life that demanded perfection, he only craved freedom—freedom to dream, to feel, to fail. But the world doesn't spare boys like him. Boys who fall in love too deeply. Who breaks quietly. Who writes instead of speaking. Who burn instead of bend.
“December 1.” is the final diary of a boy who chased life like it owed him peace. From cracked classrooms and late-night drives to drug highs, lost friendships, and a love that almost saved him—this is the story of a mind unraveling in slow motion. He was brilliant. He was broken. He built empires but never learned how to build himself.
Told through confessions, unsent letters, bleeding poems, and one final goodbye—this book doesn’t give answers.
It gives you him.
This isn’t a love story. It’s what happens when love comes too late.
He left to save her from himself. And now, all that remains are the pages he left behind.
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