Ayesha Malhotra Part 1 – Silence After the Flare The desert had always been quiet, but after the flare, silence was something else entirely. It pressed against the windows, settled on the roof tiles, thickened the air between words. Before, there had been the hum of ceiling fans, the tinny burst of radio jingles from the next-door grocer’s shop, the shriek of kids playing cricket on the dust-patched street. But the morning after the sky burned orange and green, none of that returned. The fans sat useless. The grocer closed his shutters. The cricket bat lay abandoned in the sand.…
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Ananya Dutta The Letter That Wouldn’t Fade The parcel arrived the way August rain arrives in Kolkata—suddenly, without apology. Brown paper had drunk a little water and dried into puckers; a twine knot sat like a small clenched fist in the middle. The return handwriting was unmistakable: forward-leaning letters, each one as if braced for a sprint. Mira Dutta had buried her grandfather two months ago, and yet here he was again, tapping her shoulder from the past. She slit the paper with a steel ruler and lifted out a flat wooden folder polished by long use. A note lay…
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Sayan Chanda Chapter 1: The Breach The rain had been falling over Delhi like a shroud, soft but relentless, turning the city into a hazy reflection of itself. Inside the Cyber Crime Monitoring Cell, the fluorescent lights hummed over rows of analysts, their eyes glazed and fixated on flickering data streams. At exactly 2:17 a.m., an alert blinked red on the mainframe—an unauthorized data access breach from a Level-4 secure server housed within the Research and Analysis Wing. The room froze. The breach wasn’t a foreign threat; it had originated from a local IP in Noida, cloaked under multiple VPN…
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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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Aaryan Kaul Arrival in Mist The taxi wheezed up the winding hills like an asthmatic animal. Rain lashed against the glass. Ayesha Dhar sat in the backseat, her suitcase pressing against her knees, and stared out at the town rising through the fog. Kalimpong looked like it had never heard of sunlight. The trees bled mist. The road disappeared behind every bend. And everything smelled faintly of moss, burnt rubber, and regret. She hadn’t spoken much since leaving Siliguri. The driver didn’t press. He was like most people in the hills — weather-beaten, wary, and not particularly fond of questions.…
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সায়ন্তনী দে চিঠির তারিখ ছোট ছোট অক্ষরে লেখা, হাতের লেখা যেন পুরনো স্কুলের বাংলা খাতা থেকে উঠে এসেছে—নির্ভুল, অথচ কেমন যেন কাঁপা কাঁপা। অনুরাধা চিঠিটা পড়ছিলো তৃতীয়বার, চশমার কাঁচে হালকা ঘাম জমে উঠেছে। “তারিখ— ১২ই জুন, ২০২৫। স্থান— দক্ষিণ কলকাতা, যাদবপুরের গলির মাথায়। সময়— রাত ১:১৫। একটি সাদা স্কুটিতে চড়ে যে যুবক ফিরছে, সে জানে না, আজই তার শেষ রাত। ঠিক তার বাড়ির পাঁচ নম্বর ল্যাম্পপোস্টের কাছে তাকে ছুরি মারা হবে।” ডা. অনুরাধা ঘোষ চিঠিটা নামিয়ে রাখলেন। ইরা সেন তখন তাঁর চেম্বারের কাঠের চেয়ারে বসে আছে, কাঁধ পর্যন্ত খোলা সাদা কুর্তির গায়ে আলো পড়ে ঝিকিয়ে উঠছে। মেয়েটির মুখে ভয় নেই,…
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Meghna Rao 1 The skies over Bengaluru were unusually clear that Thursday morning as dignitaries, media personnel, and shareholders gathered beneath a white canopy set up in front of the city’s newest architectural marvel—Skyrise X. Towering fifty-four stories high, its glass façade shimmered like a knife under sunlight, cutting through the skyline of the tech capital with defiant elegance. Designed by the legendary Arvind Raghavan and funded by real estate giant R&R Infrastructures, the building was hailed as the future of vertical urban living—complete with rooftop gardens, automated energy grids, and helipad access. Cameras flashed, champagne flowed, and applause erupted…
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Kritika Nayak 1 The first body was found at dawn, sprawled beneath the ancient banyan that stood like a sentinel at the village’s edge. A ring of vermillion dust, turmeric paste, and burnt hibiscus petals encircled the corpse, meticulously drawn like a sacred yantra. Her eyes had been closed gently, palms folded over her chest, and a curved knife still rested between her fingers. Carved into her bare skin were symbols that hadn’t been seen in generations—spirals, flames, and a crescent moon that bled red. The villagers gathered in hushed awe, not terror. “The Devi has returned,” someone whispered, voice…
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இலக்கியா தேவி 1 தென்காசி மாவட்டத்திலுள்ள பழைய சின்ன கிராமம் ஒன்றின் பெயர் வேம்பாடி. இருபது வீடுகளும், மூன்று தேர் வீதிகளும், ஒரு மூதாட்டி கோவிலும் கொண்ட இந்த கிராமம், காலமும் காலத்து கதைகளும் நன்கு பதிந்திருந்தது. இங்கு ஒவ்வொரு ஜூலை மாதம் புறநாள் திருவிழா நடக்கும். அந்த விழாவில் மட்டும் தான், கோவிலுக்குள் உள்ள பழைய மரக்கன்றை எல்லாரும் கண்டு வணங்க முடியும். அந்த மரம் ஒன்றும் சாதாரண மரம் இல்லை. மூதாதையர்கள் சொல்வது போல், அது இறைவனின் கொடையாக வந்த மரம். காலம் கடந்தாலும், காய்ந்தாலும், வாடாது வளர்ந்து கொண்டிருக்கும் மரத்தின் வேர்களுக்கு ஒரு இரகசியம் இருக்கிறது என்று கிராம மக்கள் நம்புகின்றனர். அந்த மரத்தின் அருகே பிறந்த குழந்தைகள் நல்ல படிப்பும், நற்பேறும் பெற்று வளர்வார்கள் என்பதும் ஒரு நம்பிக்கையே. முதலாம் காட்சி — ஒரு புதிய ஆசிரியை நியமனம் செய்யப்பட்டு கிராமத்தில் வருகிறாள். அவளின் பெயர்…
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Anjali Varma Chapter 1 The taxi snaked its way up the misty incline, past shuttered tea stalls and damp pine groves, until the silhouette of the Grand Eden Hotel loomed into view—its faded Tudor façade and ivy-strangled balconies exhaling secrets of a time long past. Aanya Mehra leaned forward from the backseat, pressing her hand to the fogged-up window. She had seen photographs of the place—black-and-white postcards tucked into history books and archived reports—but nothing prepared her for the haunting elegance of the real thing. Built in 1893, the hotel was a relic of the British Raj, its corridors having…