• English - Romance

    The Window Between Us

    Elina Ray Part One – The First Glance Anaya had never thought much about the way the late afternoon light struck the tall glass windows of her office building. She had been working here for nearly seven years, and the reflections had become part of the background noise of her days—the sun falling at angles, the mirrored glow of another tower staring back at her, the distant silhouettes of people she did not know framed in their own cubicles across the street. The city moved like a restless animal outside, traffic humming below, horns breaking against the hush of the…

  • English - Romance

    Velvet Nights

    Serene Kapoor Part 1 — The Invitation The city was still shimmering with the restless energy of twilight when Maya closed her laptop. The amber glow of streetlights was slipping into her apartment, mingling with the fragrance of sandalwood she had lit earlier. She leaned back in her chair, her body aching from the day, but her mind was alive with something else entirely—a message that had arrived just hours ago. The envelope had been thick, the kind that demanded attention. Inside was a cream-colored card embossed with an unfamiliar crest, edges gilded like something from another century. The handwriting—sleek,…

  • English - Romance

    Brushstrokes of Her Shadow

    Nayantara Das The House on the Ridge The first time Leela Varman saw Rudra Kaul’s house, it reminded her of her mother’s eyes—quiet, pale, and full of something that stayed just out of reach. Perched like a ghost on the ridge, the stone cottage didn’t greet visitors. It waited. And as she stepped out of the rickety taxi with her sketchbooks and a single duffel bag, the Kumaon wind wrapped around her as if testing who she had become. She had lied to get here. Well, not lied. Curated. She had submitted her portfolio anonymously to the prestigious Kaul Residency,…

  • Hindi - प्रेम कहानियाँ

    सिगरेट के धुएं में एक अधूरी कविता

    अन्वी शुक्ला बंद कमरा और अधूरी कविता इलाहाबाद विश्वविद्यालय का हिंदी विभाग, समय की परतों से ढका हुआ, उन इमारतों में से एक था जहाँ दीवारें भी शेर सुनाती थीं। पुराने बरामदे, लोहे के गेट, और बरगद के नीचे लगे बेंच — सबमें कोई ना कोई दास्तान अटकी हुई थी। प्रोफेसर यतीन भटनागर, जिन्हें सब आदर से ‘यतीन सर’ कहते थे, हर दिन सुबह नौ बजे ठीक उसी बेंच पर बैठकर अपनी चाय पीते, मानो वक़्त को अपनी हथेली में थामे बैठे हों। उस दिन भी कुछ अलग नहीं था, सिवाय इसके कि हवा में कुछ अजीब था—जैसे कोई धुआँ……

  • Bangla - প্রেমের গল্প

    ভালোবাসা প্রতিশোধ নয়

    ঋত্বিক চৌধুরী পর্ব ১ শিয়ালদহ স্টেশন থেকে যখন দেব বেরোলো, তখন সন্ধ্যা নেমে এসেছে। কলকাতার বাতাসে পুরনো ধুলো আর সাম্প্রতিক বৃষ্টি মিশে এক ধরনের অভিমানী গন্ধ ছড়াচ্ছে—যেটা সে খুব ভালো করে চিনত, আবার ভুলেও গিয়েছিল অনেকদিন। ট্যাক্সিতে বসে সে ফোন বের করে একটা ঠিকানা দেখে নিল—বালিগঞ্জ প্লেস। এই শহরে ফিরে আসার পেছনে কারণ একটা নয়, অনেকগুলো। কিন্তু সবকিছুর কেন্দ্রে আছে একজন—অনন্যা সরকার। দশ বছর আগের সেই ঝড়, যেটা তার জীবনটাকে তছনছ করে দিয়েছিল, সেটা আজও থেমে যায়নি। শুধুমাত্র রূপ পাল্টেছে। সেই বোর্ডিং স্কুল, সেই গেটের সামনে দাঁড়ানো কিশোর বয়সের দেব আজ আর নেই। এখন সে দেবরাজ মুখার্জী, ইনভেস্টমেন্ট ব্যাঙ্কার, নামী…

  • English - Romance - Young Adult

    Bleeding Blue

    Ayesha Rao Part 1: The First Dive The pool was colder than she had expected. Zoya Narang stood at the edge, staring into the shimmering blue, her toes curled against the tile. The whistle had already blown. Others had dived. But she hesitated. Not because she didn’t know how to swim—Zoya could glide like a whisper—but because this was the national camp, and those lanes held sharks in Speedos. A drop of water slid from her temple to her lips. Chlorine. Fear. And something more. “Jump, wild card.” The voice came from behind her—low, amused, and irritatingly familiar. Zoya didn’t…

  • English - Romance - Young Adult

    Red Ink on White Paper

    Tara Deshpande Part 1: First Paper Cut The essay was titled “Love is a Knife with a Sugar Handle.” Rayan D’Souza read the first paragraph, then the last, then the whole thing again in silence. It wasn’t just good—it was surgical. Each line left a mark, a strange blend of emotional vulnerability and cold detachment. The author was Aranya Sen. Roll number 07B/LIT/019. He remembered her vaguely from the second row, a girl who didn’t take notes but always looked like she was memorising the whole room. Her photograph was stapled to the file, standard college protocol, a small passport-size…