Where your story finds its voice
सुधांशु त्रिपाठी भाग 1 – पहली ठंडी सुबह नवंबर का महीना था। दिल्ली की सुबहें धीरे-धीरे धुंध के कपड़े ओढ़ने लगी थीं। पुरानी दिल्ली की सँकरी गलियाँ हों या नई दिल्ली की चौड़ी सड़कें, हर जगह ठंडी हवा का झोंका लोगों को अपनी ओढ़नी कसकर खींचने पर मजबूर कर देता। चौराहों पर, पार्क की बेंचों पर, यहाँ तक कि गली के नुक्कड़ों पर भी एक ही चीज़ की गंध तैर रही थी—उबलती हुई चाय की। आदित्य अपने किराए के छोटे से कमरे की खिड़की से बाहर झाँक रहा था। खिड़की के शीशे पर धुंध जम गई थी। उसने उँगली से…
Anaya Kapoor Part 1: Return in the Rain The plane touched down in Mumbai just as the first spell of the monsoon had begun to break across the city, the tarmac glistening with that familiar shimmer of water and oil mixing into tiny rainbow puddles. Aditi pressed her forehead against the cool oval window, watching the drizzle streak across the glass, and for a moment she was sixteen again, rushing home from school in a wet uniform, her shoes squelching, her mother scolding her to change quickly before she caught a cold. Ten years had passed since she had left…
Ritwik Pal Part 1: The Last Request The ceiling fan creaked like an old man with secrets. Outside, the mango tree swayed gently in the early April breeze, its leaves whispering things no one could understand anymore. Inside, Dida lay still on the teakwood bed, her body fragile, eyes closed but not asleep. She hadn’t spoken much in days, her voice now a thread unraveling slowly. But when she finally did, it brought the whole house to a standstill. “I want… the diary.” Tuli, sitting beside her, held her hand tighter. “Which diary, Dida?” “The one in the kitchen drawer.…