• English - Suspense

    NIGHT WITHOUT EXITS

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Aarav Mehta At 02:17 a.m., my phone rang with the same number that had stopped calling me eight years ago, a ghost of ten digits branded into the inside of my skull, and by the second ring my ribs felt like a locked drawer someone was rummaging through; I swiped, whispered “hello,” and heard only the soft clicking of a line held slightly open, air carrying the distant hum of traffic and a faint three-note whistle that I recognized from a forgotten Kolkata monsoon when an informant named R—had told me you could train a bird to return home but…

  • English - Suspense

    The Silent Neighbor

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Arjun Mehra I carried my boxes up the third-floor because the lift wheezed and stalled and there was nobody to complain to at nine at night. The landing bulb blinked, giving the corridor a feeling of breathing, and my new door, 3B, looked like a mouth that had forgotten how to smile. I wanted anonymity: an unremarkable building, a small deposit, closed doors until my thoughts stopped arguing with the past. The lock turned cleanly. The rooms smelled of old paint and last year’s rain, dull enough to feel like starting over. Across the landing stood 3A. Curtains drawn, a…

  • Crime - English

    The Locked Room in Mumbai

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Devraj Sinha The monsoon had not yet broken, but the clouds over Mumbai were swollen with a menace that seemed to mirror the city’s mood. At Marine Drive, waves pounded against the seawall as if the Arabian Sea was impatient with human stubbornness. Detective Arvind Rao, sitting in the back of a police jeep, felt the salt spray coat his face as they sped past the stretch of neon-lit hotels that fronted the coast. His phone buzzed again; Commissioner Kulkarni’s voice had been sharp and hurried. “Bollywood producer, big name, dead in a penthouse. Locked room. Media will have a…

  • English - Young Adult

    The Infinite Playlist of Ruhi Sen

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Aanya Deshpande Part 1 – Rooftop Strings The city was heavy with heat that night, even though the monsoon had broken weeks ago. Ruhi Sen pushed open the creaky terrace door of their old two-storied house in Ballygunge, her guitar clutched tightly against her chest. Downstairs, her father’s voice still echoed from dinner, rising above the clatter of utensils: “Focus, Ruhi. No more distractions. IIT is not a joke.” Her mother had nodded in silent agreement. But here, on the rooftop, she was free. The sky hung low, thick with stars blurred by smog, and the distant hum of traffic…

  • English - Romance

    The Forgotten Song

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Ishita Malhotra Part 1 – The Caller at Midnight The studio smelled faintly of dust and old vinyl. Anika leaned back on her swivel chair, headphones pressing gently against her ears, her fingers drumming idly on the console as the clock blinked past midnight. Kolkata outside was muffled rain and the occasional tram bell. Inside, her voice filled the silence—smooth, warm, designed to keep lonely listeners company. “This is Anika on Midnight Melodies. Sometimes the right song finds you when you least expect it. Stay with me tonight.” She smiled into the microphone, though no one saw her, only heard.…

  • English - Horror

    The Last Call from Jatinga

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Mridul Sharma Chapter 1: Arrival in Jatinga unfolds with an air of subtle unease, as Ranjit Barua makes his way into the mist-laden village nestled deep within the hills of Assam. From the moment he arrives, he senses the unusual stillness that hangs over the place, a quiet that seems almost unnatural. The village is small, with narrow winding lanes that vanish into dense forests, where thick fog curls around ancient trees like spectral fingers. Ranjit is there to report on the recent installation of 5G towers, a technological intrusion into a landscape steeped in mystery and superstition. Yet, as…

  • Comedy - English

    The Accidental Mayor

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Rohan Banerjee On the morning the town decided Arjun Mishra was qualified to run a municipality, he overslept, which, in his defense, was how he responded to most major events including India matches, family weddings, and gas cylinder deliveries, and when his phone alarm blared “RISE, MAYOR,” not because he was prophetic but because his roommate Pintu had changed the label after watching a motivational reel, Arjun groaned, flung a pillow at the ceiling fan like the fan could negotiate with Monday, stumbled into a bath that was more an apology to water than hygiene, zipped into his faded red…

  • English - Horror

    The Salt Bride

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Meenakshi Varadhan Part 1: The White Desert The train had left him at Bhuj, dusty and sun-beaten, a town that seemed more like the last outpost before the world ended. From there Kabir Deshmukh rode in a rattling jeep to the edge of the Rann, the salt flats spreading like a white ocean under the burning sky. He was thirty-eight, an archaeologist who had mapped ruins in Rajasthan and caves in Maharashtra, but nothing had prepared him for the silence of this desert. No trees, no rivers, just the crunch of crystallized salt under his boots and the horizon quivering…

  • English - Romance

    The Waiting Shore

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Aarav Mehta The rain had already begun its ritual when Aarav stepped out of the rickety taxi, his leather bag soaked on one side, his shirt clinging to his back as if Goa itself had wrapped its humid arms around him. It was not the Goa he remembered from his childhood vacations—the postcard beaches, the neon lights of shacks, the loud laughter of tourists spilling beer into the sand. This was an older Goa, a quieter stretch where the sea met the land in whispers rather than shouts, where the narrow roads curled around forgotten Portuguese villas with cracked shutters…

  • English - Romance

    Delhi Summer Heat

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Nidhi Desai 1 The heat had been building all day, pressing down on Delhi like a smothering hand. By nightfall, the air felt thick enough to drink, and the streets carried the scent of dust, sweat, and faintly rotting garbage. Then, without warning, the city’s power grid collapsed. First the lights flickered, dimmed, and then everything snapped to black. A sudden hush fell over the neighborhood as the hum of air conditioners, refrigerators, and ceiling fans ceased all at once, leaving only the faint sounds of traffic in the distance. Ananya Mehra sat on the edge of her bed in…