Kamal Prasad Mishra Chapter 1: The Ride Begins The night air in Chandni Chowk clung to Amal like a memory he couldn’t shake. August’s monsoon rains had dried, leaving behind a warmth soaked in the scent of old spices, frying oil, and time. It was past midnight, yet the city didn’t sleep — it simply sighed in quieter breaths. The streets were damp with leftover life: a chaiwala still pouring from his kettle like it was a sacred act, a woman arranging wilted marigolds on a cart, and a cow that blinked slowly as if it knew secrets older than…
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Pankaj Desai Chapter 1: The Retreat Begins The hills looked the same, but Noor Rahmani knew better. The sky above them—wide and velvet blue—stretched out like memory itself: vast, layered, unknowable. The bus rumbled to a stop on the gravel slope, its brakes sighing like an old friend weary from another year’s journey. Noor stepped out, inhaling the sharp scent of pine and the faint tang of burnt diesel, and tried to shake off the strange weight that had been pressing against her chest since the previous night. The retreat grounds spread before her, a patchwork of stone cabins, wooden…
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Manoj Ojha Chapter 1: The Girl with the Red Ball The dawn in Mangaldoi wasn’t the kind that arrived in silence; it came humming with birdcalls, the hiss of kettles from roadside stalls, and the occasional bark of restless stray dogs. Yet, amid this subtle chaos, a different rhythm echoed through the empty school playground—thud… thud… thwack—the steady beat of a red cricket ball hitting a battered concrete wall. Arohi Nath, seventeen and barely five feet tall, stood poised like a coiled spring, the ball returning to her palm with ghostlike familiarity. Her fingers were calloused, her sleeves rolled to…
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Bipasa Roy Chowdhury Chapter 1: Assigned Seats and Accidental Fates On the first day of the new academic year, Oakridge High buzzed with the scent of freshly bound notebooks, sharp pencils, and the distinct nervous energy that only teenagers in half-creased uniforms could produce. In Class 10-B, the fans creaked overhead like tired old men, and sunlight streamed through dusty glass, illuminating years of chalk smudges and scraped graffiti. A printed seating chart stuck hastily on the blackboard, like a bureaucratic lottery ticket, dictated the year’s fate for every student. And it was here, in faded Arial font and alphabetical…
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Soma Sen Chapter 1: The Ink That Blurs Souvik Khurana hated the sound of pens scratching against paper. To most people, it was nothing more than a background noise—a classroom lullaby of sorts—but to him, it was a cruel reminder of how far behind he always was. The letters on the page swam before his eyes, shifting, twisting, smudging themselves into shapes that looked like words but refused to be read. The old classroom in North Campus smelled of musty books, spilled coffee, and ambition. Dust danced in the afternoon light pouring in through the broken blinds of the Arts…
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Riya Chowdhury 1 The desert had its own kind of silence—thick, stretched thin across salt plains like an invisible cloth drawn over the earth, humming just below the level of human hearing. In the small town of Khavda, where every house was painted with fading lime and the wind carried more memory than sand, seventeen-year-old Payel Deshmukh sat cross-legged on her rooftop, her telescope tilted toward the night. She knew the names of the stars like old friends—Betelgeuse, Rigel, Vega, and Altair—and she whispered them under her breath like prayers. The townspeople called her “Tārāwali Ladki,” the star girl who…
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Advika Nair Chapter 1: The morning bell rang with the familiar sharp clang that echoed across the corridors of St. Mary’s High School, announcing the beginning of another Wednesday, another series of classes, and another chance for students to shuffle into their assigned seats like the pieces of a living, breathing jigsaw puzzle. In Class 10-B, the usual rush was on—bags thudding onto desks, notebooks flipping open, and voices rising in a soft chaos of teenage chatter. Amid it all, Riya Sen hurried into the room, her hair tied in a slightly crooked ponytail, her blue-and-white uniform neatly ironed, and…
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Ira Chatterjee Chapter 1: The Summer Arrival The train pulled into Windmere Station with a long metallic sigh, as if reluctant to stop in a town so still it barely seemed to breathe. Sophie McAllister pressed her nose to the smudged glass of the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the place she’d be calling home for the next eight weeks. All she saw were pine trees, cloaked in mist, standing like silent watchers on the hills. She didn’t want to be here. Not in this forgotten town with no cinemas, no internet, and certainly no friends. London was…