Arunesh Roy The last bell at school had just rung when Ananya slipped through the crowded lanes of College Street, a place she often escaped to when the chatter of her classmates felt too sharp for her quiet thoughts. The street was alive with its usual symphony—hawkers calling out offers, the clatter of trams in the distance, and the faint whiff of roasted peanuts mixing with the musty perfume of old books. Here, she felt both invisible and at home. Booksellers leaned against their stalls, surrounded by mountains of second-hand volumes stacked in haphazard towers that looked as though they…
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Alok Mukherjee I The Mallick mansion stood like a fading relic on one of South Kolkata’s quieter streets, its grandeur worn down by decades of neglect, yet still capable of stirring awe in those who crossed its threshold. Rajat Mallick, the current custodian of this ancestral home, walked through its corridors with a nervous air, his mind fixed on the night ahead. The music room, once the pride of his forefathers, had not seen such a gathering in years. High ceilings lined with fading frescoes, Belgian chandeliers that flickered with uneven light, and carved wooden panels heavy with dust spoke…
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Utsab Mukherjee 1 Shubhayan stepped out of the taxi into the sprawling expanse of the Kolkata Book Fair, 2025, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation. The early morning sunlight glinted off the vibrant banners fluttering above the rows of stalls, each adorned with stacks of books promising worlds unknown. He carried in his hands a small bundle of his freshly printed debut novels, the culmination of years of sleepless nights, scribbled notes, and endless revisions. The fair was already buzzing with energy—publishers hustling to display their latest titles, readers wandering between aisles, occasionally stopping to leaf through glossy pages,…