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…