• English - Travel

    Miles and Pawprints

    June 16, 2025 - By 

    Karan Mehta The Road Begins in Mumbai The smell of old books and rain hung in the air of Arjun’s flat as he sealed the last cardboard box. It was strange how quickly a life could pack itself away—eight years of a job, two failed relationships, a pile of unread journals, and a dog who never left his side. Simba watched quietly from his corner, tail swishing slowly across the tile. The golden retriever was almost six, with a slight limp in his left leg from a puppyhood injury. Arjun liked to think that limp made Simba more human, more…

  • Comedy - English

    Flatmates Anonymous

    June 16, 2025 - By 

    Chapter 1 It all began on a Tuesday afternoon, the kind of day where even your tea tastes like it’s mocking your life choices. Samir “Sam” Mehta sat slumped at his aunt’s dining table, one slipper off, laptop open, staring at a blank Google Doc that refused to turn into the article his editor had demanded three days ago. Outside, a dog barked rhythmically as if keeping time with his failure. Inside, his aunt was blasting a 90s soap opera on full volume, which made it nearly impossible to think, let alone write. His only refuge was his headphone’s noise-canceling…

  • Crime - English

    The Vanishing of Viraj Mehta

    June 16, 2025 - By 

    Chapter 1:  It was the sort of evening that wrapped Mumbai in a damp silence—one of those monsoon nights when the rain doesn’t roar, but hisses steadily, like a whisper of secrets meant to be hidden. The streetlights near Colaba Causeway flickered through the drizzle, casting shimmering reflections across the wet tarmac. Viraj Mehta, the 42-year-old diamond merchant with a reputation as clean as the stones he traded, checked his Rolex for the fourth time as he exited his office building. He had ended his day like any other: signing off ledger sheets, taking calls from Dubai, and checking shipments…

  • Comedy - English

    Stocks & Shenanigans

    June 16, 2025 - By 

    Siddharth Bhattacharjee Part 1 Monday mornings had a peculiar smell at Dalal Street—part anxiety, part ambition, and a solid dose of stale filter coffee. For Rudra Sen, senior broker at Kothari & Sons Securities (no Kothari worked there anymore), it also smelled like danger. Not because of the stock market, but because his ancient laptop, nicknamed “Laxmi”, had a tendency to start only on alternate days. Today, unfortunately, was not one of them. Rudra’s day began, as always, with a lecture from his boss, a man with a moustache thick enough to have its own Aadhaar card. “Sen, Sensex is…

  • Comedy - English

    Mistakenly Yours

    June 15, 2025 - By 

    Kabir Sanyal Part 1 It all started with a sandwich. Not the fancy kind with pesto and sun-dried tomatoes, but a simple, over-grilled aloo tikki sandwich that arrived with the wrong name scribbled on the delivery bag. To Ritu. Nayan stared at it, confused. He had ordered a classic cheese sandwich, and his name, in bold caps, was clearly Nayan. But the delivery guy was already halfway down the stairs, humming a Punjabi tune. Nayan sighed and peeled the sticker. Hunger won. Five buildings away, a woman named Ritu sat cross-legged on her balcony, staring into her phone with equal…

  • Crime - English

    The Last Wave at Palolem

    June 15, 2025 - By 

    Vivaan Sharma The Body on the Shore The waves crashed softly against the rocks, their rhythm almost meditative under the hazy early morning sun. Palolem Beach was just beginning to wake—fishermen pulling in their nets, yoga teachers arranging mats on the sand, tourists stretching and sipping on bitter black coffee from the shacks. And then the scream. It sliced through the humid air like a blade. A local boy had found her—curled on her side near the rocky edge of the shore, half-buried in sand, her hair tangled with seaweed. At first glance, it looked like she had been sleeping.…

  • Crime - English - Horror

    Echoes of Teesta Villa

    June 15, 2025 - By 

    Maitreyee Basu Chapter 1: The Blood on the Floorboards   The monsoon clouds had just begun to roll over Kalimpong’s forested ridges when Dr. Arjun Roy’s taxi took the final bend toward Teesta Villa. The road, snaking through damp pine groves and moss-streaked colonial fences, looked like a forgotten memory. Arjun watched from behind fogged glasses as the worn iron gates of the villa emerged from a curtain of mist—weathered, crooked, and latched with a rusted chain that looked as old as the town itself. He stepped out with his leather satchel, the thick scent of wet soil, mildew, and…

  • English - Travel

    The Colours of the Desert: Three Souls, One Story

    June 15, 2025 - By 

    Deepayan Roy Chapter 1: It was one of those mellow Kolkata afternoons in early December when the winter sun bathed everything in a soft, golden glow. The city hummed lazily outside, trams clanged their way down College Street, and a faint aroma of roasted peanuts drifted in from the street vendor downstairs. Inside Deep’s room, the three friends sat sprawled on the cool mosaic floor, the ceiling fan lazily creaking above. The room had a lived-in warmth—walls lined with bookshelves, posters of travel destinations, a dusty guitar in the corner. Deep, always the thoughtful one, leaned against the wall, his…

  • English - Travel

    The Days We Wandered

    June 14, 2025 - By 

    Ritoban Mukherjee  The Escape Begins It started with a silence between four friends who had known each other since college but hadn’t spoken properly in months. The kind of silence that grows not out of absence but the slow sediment of routine. It was Pramit who broke it one humid Kolkata afternoon by posting a message in the group chat none of them had used in weeks: “I’m losing my mind. Let’s leave.” The others didn’t ask where or why. Only Tushar replied with a thumbs up emoji. Ranjan added, “I’ll bring the flask.” And Neel, the most reluctant of…

  • English - Young Adult

    The Firefly Letters

    June 14, 2025 - By 

    Aria D’Souza The Letter in the Library Ayush wasn’t looking for anything that day—not really. It was the kind of Tuesday that smelled of old paper and felt like chalk dust on your skin. The school library was nearly empty, just as he liked it. A few juniors whispered near the computer terminals, someone yawned into a reference book, and the librarian dozed with a magazine on her lap. Ayush wandered between the shelves like a ghost with no one to haunt. He didn’t have many friends, not the kind who waited for him at lunch or texted him stupid…