• English - Romance

    The Season We Met

    Rima Chatterjee The First Chill The fog hung low over Delhi like a soft, worn shawl. The streets of Connaught Place were still waking up, the shops pulling up shutters slowly, as if in no hurry to face the cold. Anaya clutched her oversized wool scarf tighter, her gloved fingers tingling despite the warmth of her coffee cup. It was her second week in Delhi. The city had greeted her with shivers, smoky skies, and a strange sort of stillness. It wasn’t the kind of winter she had grown up with in Kolkata—this was quieter, grayer, full of mystery. And…

  • English - Horror

    The Honeymoon Lodge

    Arif Khan Arrival at the Lodge The winding road snaked through the mist-cloaked forests of Simla, flanked by towering deodar trees whose branches interlocked like conspirators. The hired taxi, an old white Ambassador with rusted edges and a rattling engine, coughed its way up the slope. Rhea looked out of the foggy window, her breath forming tiny clouds on the cold glass. Her fingers tightened around Aarav’s hand. “This feels like a scene from an old horror movie,” she murmured with a nervous chuckle. Aarav grinned. “Romantic horror, maybe. Like Honeymoon in Hell.” “Not funny,” Rhea said, swatting his arm.…

  • English - Horror

    The Sound Beneath

    Nikhil Sharma Chapter 1: The Will The road to Pinehar was unforgiving — serpentine turns through mist-covered hills, pockmarked with stones that had tumbled down long-forgotten landslides. The air thinned as the taxi climbed higher, and the pine trees grew taller, standing like silent watchers over the hillside. Riya Sharma leaned against the window, earbuds in, music off, listening only to the rumble of the tires and the occasional hiss of brakes struggling against gravity. She hadn’t been here in twenty years. Not since that summer when her mother had brought her here to meet Uncle Mahesh — a wiry…

  • Comedy - English

    Startup Shaadi Pvt. Ltd.

    Anupama Trivedi Chapter 1 It begins on a humid evening in Bengaluru. Manav, our protagonist, sits in the dark corner of a PG in Koramangala. He’s thirty, jobless, and surviving on day-old biryani. Once hailed as a promising coder from an IIT, he now codes half-heartedly on borrowed laptops. His roommate recently left to join an ed-tech unicorn, and Manav is left with unpaid rent, broken dreams, and a used whiteboard scribbled with failed app ideas: “Rent-A-Paratha,” “GhostTalk (for ghost believers),” and “DoggieGram.” The final blow comes when a food delivery company he freelances for fires him, citing poor performance…

  • Child Fiction - English

    হগওয়ার্টসের হারানো কক্ষ

    তৃষা চ্যাটার্জী পর্ব ১ হগওয়ার্টসের আকাশ আজ একটু বেশিই নীরব। অক্টোবরের শেষপ্রান্তে এসে হাওয়া ঠান্ডা হলেও, রাতটা যেন অস্বাভাবিক। চাঁদের আলো ছায়া ফেলেছে প্রাচীন প্রাসাদের পাথরের দেয়ালে। ঠিক তখনই, এক ছায়াময় মূর্তি লাইব্রেরির পেছনের করিডোর দিয়ে ধীরে ধীরে এগিয়ে চলেছে। তার হাতে একটা পুরনো বই, কাপড়ের মোড়কে বাঁধা। মেয়েটির নাম—এলোরা ফিনিক্স, হাফলপাফ হাউসের পঞ্চম বর্ষের ছাত্রী। মাথায় ছড়ানো বাদামী চুল, চোখ দুটো সবুজ কিন্তু গভীর, যেন কিছু লুকিয়ে রাখে। কিছুদিন আগে লাইব্রেরির নিষিদ্ধ বিভাগের এক পুরোনো তাক ঘাঁটতে গিয়ে সে পেয়েছিল বইটা—“The Hidden Rooms of Hogwarts”। বইটার পৃষ্ঠা ছুঁয়ে দেওয়ার মুহূর্তেই তার তালুর মধ্যে ফুটে উঠেছিল একটি লালচে দাগ—জ্বলন্ত পাখির…

  • English - Romance

    Second First Love

    Meera Sanyal The Quiet Years The clock on the wall ticked with an almost deliberate calm, echoing through the sun-drenched living room of Ananya Bose’s Kolkata apartment. It was 7:15 AM—the precise moment her kettle would begin its polite whistle. The smell of Darjeeling tea mingled with the scent of sandalwood from the agarbatti she’d lit during her morning puja. Her home was a carefully curated sanctuary of books, framed memories, and soft silences. At forty-three, Ananya had grown used to solitude—not the melancholy kind that clings to your skin, but the chosen kind, like a warm shawl on a…

  • English - Suspense

    The Whispering Monastery

    Piyali Banik Part 1 Misty winds curled around the crumbling eaves of the ancient monastery perched on the edge of Darjeeling’s high cliffs. It had stood there for over three centuries, cloaked in silence and stories—some whispered, some buried. To the tourists who visited, the monastery offered serenity, a glimpse of the spiritual. But to the monks within, and the locals who dared to speak of it, the place carried shadows. Shadows of the past. Shadows of something that refused to rest. Dr. Ayaan Mukherjee, a young anthropologist from Kolkata University, arrived at the monastery to study Buddhist rituals and…

  • English - Suspense

    The Vanishing Signal

    Ishaan Varma 1 The rain had a mind of its own that afternoon, coming down in chaotic sheets that danced like ghosts on the windshield of Detective Rehan Malik’s Scorpio. The wipers moved in a frantic rhythm, barely keeping up, as he maneuvered the SUV along the narrow, winding roads of the Garhwal hills. Fog clung to the trees like wool, swallowing the landscape in a damp hush. Even with the heater humming and his coat pulled tight, Rehan felt the chill worm its way into his bones. The call had come in late the previous night. A missing person’s…

  • English - Travel

    The Desert Compass

    Suchandra Mishra The train from Ajmer screeched gently into the sun-bleached station of Pushkar just past noon. The air outside shimmered with heat, and even through the dusty glass panes, Mira Sen could see why they called it the Golden Throat of Rajasthan. The sand blew like whispers across the platform, and the light had a peculiar weight — ancient and unmoving. Mira stepped out, one foot in her worn sneakers and another in purpose. She adjusted the strap of her camera bag and slung her leather-bound notebook tighter under her arm. Her hair, which she’d braided tightly earlier that…

  • English - Comedy

    The Great Office Coffee Heist

    Rishi Kulkarni Monday Mourning The Monday morning at Chai & Chat Media Pvt. Ltd., a mid-sized marketing agency in the heart of Koramangala, Bengaluru, began like any other—late. The office, located on the third floor of a building with exactly one working lift (which frequently stopped at every floor uninvited), had a culture of “flexible timing”—which really meant “come in before lunch, if possible.” By 10:47 AM, only four people had arrived: Sonal had her headphones on and was busy typing ferociously, probably fighting with a vendor over Google Sheets. Tapan was slouched over his MacBook, staring at an empty…