English
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The Last Séance at Bhangarh Fort
Soumyo Roy Part 1: The Journal The pages were yellowed, brittle at the corners, and the leather spine smelled of time — not the clean scent of old libraries, but of something older, heavier. Like soil packed over secrets. Rehan Sen traced his fingers over the inscription on the first page: “Meera K. Sharma, August…
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The Shadow over Kalighat
Diptayan Chakraborty 1 Dawn had only just begun to stir over the ancient lanes of Kalighat, where the smell of incense curled lazily around moss-stained walls and the rhythmic clang of temple bells blended with the cawing of crows perched like sentinels on crumbling terraces. Yet the sacred calm was shattered when a ghastly discovery…
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Blood on the White
Anshuman Gupta The early morning sun struggled to pierce through the dense clouds that hung low over Gulmarg’s snow-covered slopes. The ski resort, usually bustling with tourists craving the pristine beauty of Kashmir’s winter, lay eerily silent, draped under a cold, misty blanket. Only the crunch of footsteps echoed faintly across the frozen grounds —…
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Brushstrokes of Her Shadow
Nayantara Das The House on the Ridge The first time Leela Varman saw Rudra Kaul’s house, it reminded her of her mother’s eyes—quiet, pale, and full of something that stayed just out of reach. Perched like a ghost on the ridge, the stone cottage didn’t greet visitors. It waited. And as she stepped out of…
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The Playlist Project
Mayurakshi Deb One Jay Malhotra walked through the tiled corridors of St. Cecilia’s High School as if he were moving through static—half there, half not. Students passed in waves: some laughing, some shouting, some drowning in their own phones. He kept his earbuds in but played no music, just the illusion of sound to avoid…
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The Window Seat
Rimi Bhasthi Part 1: The Silence in the Hallway It was always the hallway where she first heard herself disappear. The long, echoing corridor of the Sharma household carried more than footsteps and scoldings—it carried absence. Asha, seventeen, was the kind of girl people described in passing as “quiet but clever,” the kind whose achievements…
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The Harvest of Harsinghpur
Chapter 1: The Golden Arrival The road to Harsinghpur was narrow and snaked like a forgotten scar through endless waves of wheat fields swaying under a late summer sun. Simran Kaur sat in the back of the dusty jeep, her duffel bag squeezed between her knees, eyes fixed on the undulating gold outside the window.…
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The Yearbook Lie
Part 1: The Caption That Shouldn’t Exist The bell rang for the last time that Friday afternoon, and the hallways of Lakemount High flooded with bodies—seniors hollering, juniors buzzing, lockers slamming shut like punctuation marks on a chaotic sentence. Avani Kapoor walked slower than most, her earbuds in, her playlist whispering solace. She didn’t need…
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The Midnight Tutor
Aditi Roy Sharma 1 Samar Ghosh stared blankly at the glowing screen of his laptop, its harsh blue light reflecting off his glasses as the world outside his hostel window drifted into silence. The ceiling fan above creaked lazily, slicing through the thick summer night air of the campus. Around him, the room was cluttered…
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Behind the Nameplate
1 The day began like most Mondays in Gurgaon—grey towers cutting into a hazy sky, the hum of elevators, the staccato rhythm of heels on marble. Ira Mallick stepped into the 24th floor of SysCore Solutions, coffee in hand, her ID badge swinging against her chest. The HR bay was as sterile as ever—white partitions,…
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Sparks in Silicon Valley
Supriya Mishra Chapter 1: Clash of Codes Ayesha Mehra stood in the middle of the buzzing tech office, staring at the whiteboard covered in complicated diagrams, code snippets, and post-it notes with deadlines scribbled in frantic handwriting. The pressure of the launch date loomed over her like a storm cloud. She had always been the…
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Kissing in Connaught Place
Niharika Sen 1 The sky over Delhi had been sulking since morning, draped in heavy grey clouds that threatened to spill at any moment. Connaught Place bustled beneath it, the circular heart of the capital moving in its usual rhythm—cars honking in chorus, office-goers pacing down colonnades, street vendors shouting their evening rates, and college…