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समीर वर्मा एपिसोड 1: धुंध में चीख कोलकाता की सड़कों पर सर्दियों की धुंध इस क़दर छाई थी कि सामने चल रही पीली टैक्सी का पिछला नंबर प्लेट तक साफ़ दिखाई नहीं दे रहा था। हावड़ा ब्रिज की रोशनी उस धुंध को काटने की कोशिश कर रही थी, मगर हर रोशनी धुंध में घुलकर जैसे कोई अधूरा रहस्य बन जा रही थी। रात के पौने बारह बजे पुलिस कंट्रोल रूम में फ़ोन बजा। सब-इंस्पेक्टर शेखर चौधरी उस समय अपने डेस्क पर फाइलें पलट रहे थे। फोन उठाते ही उधर से घबराई हुई औरत की आवाज़ आई— “साहब… चीख सुनाई दी…
অর্ণব দত্ত পর্ব ১ — রাতের সেতু হাওয়ায় গন্ধ ছিলো গরম লোহা আর নদীর শ্যাওলার। কলকাতার শহরতলির পুরনো লোহার সেতুটি রাত নামার পর যেন অন্য রকম হয়ে যায়—দিনে সে কত ব্যস্ত, ট্রাক, বাস, ভ্যানগাড়ি সব মিলিয়ে এক বিশৃঙ্খলা। অথচ গভীর রাতে, হঠাৎ করেই যেন সেতুর গায়ে সময় থেমে যায়। বাতাসে ভিজে ধাতব শব্দ বাজতে থাকে, দূরে নদীর স্রোত কালো তেলের মতো ঘন হয়ে বইতে থাকে, আর হাওয়ার ফাঁক দিয়ে মনে হয়, কারা যেন অদৃশ্য পায়ে সেতুর গায়ে হাঁটছে। অনিকেত দাঁড়িয়ে ছিলো সেতুর মাঝখানে। হাতে সিগারেট, চোখ নদীর দিকে। সে একজন সাংবাদিক, তিরিশ পেরিয়েছে, জীবন তাকে খুব একটা সহজ কিছু দেয়নি।…
Damien Arora Episode 1 – The First Cut The rain had begun an hour before midnight, a thin drizzle that turned the streets into black rivers of glass. In the corner of the old bazaar, where the neon of a dying sign stuttered over broken tiles, a man leaned against the wall as if sleep had claimed him standing. To the drunkards stumbling home from the late bar, he looked like just another lost figure in the city’s night. It was only when the streetlight caught the crimson pooling beneath his shoes that anyone realized he would never move again.…
Adrian S. D’Costa Part 1 – The Last Supper The night smelled of salt and rust, the sea breeze drifting from the Arabian coast into the narrow gullies of Colaba. Neon lights flickered above paan shops and half-shuttered bars, their red and blue haze blurring with the cigarette smoke that hung thick in the air. It was a Saturday night, but the streets were too quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Inside Casa Fortuna, an old Portuguese villa-turned-restaurant, twelve men sat around a mahogany dining table polished to an unnatural gleam. Each man wore an expensive…
Kabir Anand 1 The old ceiling fan in Detective Inspector Meenal Rathore’s apartment made a dry, rhythmic creak as it turned in the summer night heat. She sat at her desk in a sleeveless kurta, case files spread open, a mug of cold tea forgotten at her elbow. The city outside was quieter than usual, its usual honking and scooter rumbles dulled at this hour. Her phone buzzed sharply at exactly midnight, the screen flashing an unknown number. She answered out of habit, expecting a drunken domestic complaint or a false alarm. Instead, a low, carefully measured voice came through…
कालसूत्र भाग 1: वरसा का खून मुंबई की उस रात में समुद्र शांत नहीं था। लहरों का शोर सड़क की सन्नाटे को काटता जा रहा था, और बंदरगाह की ओर दौड़ती एक काली SUV की हेडलाइट्स किसी अजाने फैसले की गवाही दे रही थीं। गाड़ी की पिछली सीट पर बैठा था आदित्य वरसा — वरसा परिवार का आखिरी वारिस, और अंडरवर्ल्ड का एक उभरता चेहरा। पिता सुरेश वरसा की दो दिन पहले गोली मार कर हत्या कर दी गई थी। पुलिस ने इसे “गैंग वॉर” कह कर फाइल बंद कर दी थी, लेकिन आदित्य जानता था कि ये कोई आम…
Nabin Mishra Chapter 1: The Cassette The rain had returned to Mumbai like an old debt collector—persistent, uninvited, and soaked in memory. Officer Vinayak Rane sat by the rusting grill of his Dadar flat, the yellowed curtains barely swaying as he watched water trickle down the windowpane like the slow bleed of time. His apartment was a museum of silence, its walls lined with worn furniture and an old transistor that hadn’t caught a frequency in years. He smoked his first cigarette of the day at 4 p.m., his back aching from sleep he never remembered falling into. When the…
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,…
Aditya Karnik Shadows at Dawn The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the mist already draped over the ancient stone temple like a shroud. Birds refused to sing. In the village of Chittakere, Karnataka, morning was no longer a time of peace—it was a countdown to death. Detective Prasant Sharma stepped out of the jeep, his boots sinking slightly into the wet red earth. His khaki coat bore the weight of night-long travel and older memories he didn’t want stirred. Behind him, constables Sanjay and Latha looked equally grim, both glancing toward the towering temple spire that loomed against the pale…
Ritam Sen The Body by the Ghat The tram squealed as it curved past the Kalighat temple gates, the clattering wheels echoing through the alleyways still soaked from last night’s drizzle. The city was stirring — morning prayers floated out from open windows, chai stalls hissed to life, and vendors set up shop like they had every day for years. Kolkata, in its timeless rhythm, was waking up. Inspector Arjun Dutta was halfway through his first cup of tea when the call came. The voice on the other end, a young constable posted at the Kalighat beat, was unusually tense.…