Sabyasachi Pal I The late afternoon sun dipped into the smoky Kolkata skyline as Ananya Roy’s cab crawled through the labyrinth of traffic, the air thick with the blaring of horns, the chatter of street vendors, and the aroma of frying samosas. It had been nearly fifteen years since she had last visited the city of her birth, and yet as she peered out the window, the familiar chaos carried a pulse that tugged somewhere deep inside her chest. The sari-clad women balancing baskets of flowers, the tram bells clanging faintly in the distance, the lingering scent of incense at…
