Devika Ashwin 1 The sky above Varanasi was a dusky canvas streaked with saffron and indigo as the Ganga Mahotsav reached its crescendo. On the ghats, thousands had gathered—devotees, tourists, connoisseurs of music, all drawn by the promise of an unforgettable evening. Meera stood behind the thick curtain of the open-air stage, adjusting the pleats of her crimson costume. The scent of jasmine mingled with sandalwood as the sounds of a shehnai drifted from the main ghat. Tonight was supposed to be historic: Guru Radhika Sinha’s final public performance, a symbolic passing of the torch to Meera, her most devoted…
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Souradeep Dutta 1 Rain drummed steadily on the rusted iron roof of Subhro Dutta’s apartment in Shibpur, blurring the already smudged cityscape outside the window. The walls inside were yellowed with smoke, time, and neglect, just like him. He sat in his old cane chair, a half-filled glass of Old Monk dangling loosely from his hand, watching the flickering television news bulletin like a man watching ghosts dance. “Another body discovered in Howrah Maidan area,” the anchor was saying, tone flat, professional, unaffected. But what made Subhro sit up slightly wasn’t the death—it was the image that followed. A photograph…
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Ira Devyani Sen It was the kind of evening that carried warmth on its skin — not from the sun, but from the longing that hung in the air like unspoken words. The rain had stopped just an hour ago, leaving behind a breathless hush. The windows were still misted, half open to the scent of soaked earth and hibiscus. She stood by the sill, fingers tracing the wooden frame, her saree a soft rustle of maroon and gold wrapped tightly around her curves, as if the fabric itself remembered touch. Down below, the courtyard glistened — bricks slick with…