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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Anirudh Shenoy Part 1: The First Page It was a quiet Sunday evening when she first walked into the Indigo Reads Café on Church Street, the new venue for Bangalore’s freshly launched Silent Book Club. Outside, the sky threatened rain but held itself back, as if not to disturb the pages yet to be turned. Inside, the café smelled of roasted Arabica and old wood, its corners filled with tall green plants and even taller bookshelves. The event board near the counter read “Silent Book Club – 5 PM Onwards,” written in neat, cursive chalk. She glanced around, her tote…
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Neel Arora Chapter 1. The rain came early that morning, the kind that thudded against the glass panes like soft drumbeats played by invisible fingers, and the Mumbai skyline, always blurred by smog, looked gentler beneath the wash of monsoon grey. Inside the sleek glass-and-concrete confines of the Bandra Reclamation office, the world was dry, clinical, fluorescent-lit, and buzzing with the soft hum of deadlines. Aarav Mehta didn’t notice the rain at first. He barely noticed anything outside the four walls of his office anymore. At thirty-two, he had earned the corner space with the sea view, the massive teak…