Debasish Guha Chapter 1: The Cracked Clay The scent of wet earth and incense filled the narrow lanes of Kumartuli as the morning sun filtered through bamboo scaffolding and half-finished goddesses. It was five days before Mahalaya, and the air in Kolkata shimmered with anticipation. The idol-makers worked tirelessly, smearing layers of straw and clay onto skeletal bamboo frames, coaxing divine forms into being. But something had gone terribly wrong at Workshop No. 14. Apprentice boys stood frozen outside, whispering in hushed tones as their trembling eyes stayed locked on the massive figure of a half-finished Durga. The goddess’s eyes,…
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Kiran Mehra Part 1: The Parcel Wrapped in Silk The parcel arrived on a late Monday afternoon, wrapped in fading blue silk with frayed edges that smelled faintly of mothballs and sandalwood. Advaita Roy didn’t remember ordering anything. No note. No sender. Just her name—Ms. A. Roy—written in a dark ink that had bled slightly at the corners, as if the paper had once wept. She set the package on her studio table, brushing aside paintbrushes, restoration cloths, and a yellowing file titled “Reclamation: Bengal Portraiture, 1890–1920.” Her studio, perched on the first floor of a heritage building near Kolkata’s…