English

  • City of Echoes: A Story of Kolkata

    City of Echoes: A Story of Kolkata

    Aniket Chattopadhyay The smell of the river has always told stories. Standing at Babu Ghat as the sun dipped into the golden arms of the Hooghly, I—Aniket Chattopadhyay, a retired history professor—closed my eyes and heard the city breathe. I had spent over six decades in Kolkata, but today, I decided to write her biography—not…

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  • A Story in the Mist

    A Story in the Mist

    Saurav Dilshan Arrival in the Clouds Vinay Joshi had always believed that cities talked too much. Born and raised in Delhi, he had grown up with the sound of impatient horns, fluorescent billboards blinking at midnight, and conversations that rarely waited to be heard. His life as a novelist thrived on observation, but lately, it…

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  • The Hollow Bell

    The Hollow Bell

    Sayantan Bhattacharya The village of Greystone sat on the edge of the moorlands, where the sky always seemed a shade too gray and the winds carried whispers only the old dared to interpret. People rarely left, and even fewer arrived. Those who did often left soon—troubled, changed, or not at all. At the heart of…

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  • A Mysterious Villa in Shimla

    A Mysterious Villa in Shimla

    Priyanka Tyagi Arrival in the Hills The narrow road coiled up like a silver ribbon through the pine-clad hills of Shimla. Cold mist clung to the windows of the taxi as it crawled its way past scattered cottages and sleepy shops. Aanya leaned against the window, letting the chill seep through the glass into her…

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  • The Dakini Manuscript

    The Dakini Manuscript

    Ankush Rana Gurugram, Haryana – April 2024. It began, as many strange tales do, with a disappearance. On a humid April evening, as the sky turned the color of burnt saffron and a light haze hung over the Gurgaon skyline, Professor Agni Bose vanished. A scholar of ancient Indian tantra and mystical practices, he had…

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  • Monsoon at India Gate

    Monsoon at India Gate

    Prakash Jha The First Glance The Delhi sky wore the look of brooding poetry — thick grey clouds drifting low, full of unspent rain. July had entered like a wandering musician, with sudden showers and stolen breezes, giving the city its brief but beautiful monsoon glow. Aahana stood just at the edge of India Gate,…

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