• English - Young Adult

    Voices in the Rain

    September 1, 2025 - By 

    Eira Sen Part 1: The Crackling The rain always came suddenly in her town, not like the timid drizzles that brushed over other places but like an argument with the sky itself. That evening, Tara was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her grandmother’s living room, tracing lines on her notebook when the storm struck. The shutters rattled, the lights flickered, and the smell of wet earth rushed in through the gaps under the door. Beside her, on the wooden cabinet that had been in the house longer than she had, stood the old Philips radio. Its red dial and…

  • Crime - English

    No Place to Whisper

    September 1, 2025 - By 

    Arvind Kashyap Part 1 – The Case Begins The rain had been coming down on Kolkata for three days straight, the kind that didn’t wash the city clean but left it sticky and smelling of wet dust, fish, and petrol. Arjun Sen sat in his office above a shuttered sweet shop on Bentinck Street, nursing his fourth cup of watery tea and wondering whether he should pawn his old Nikon camera. Once, he had been the man behind front-page scoops, the journalist who broke the stories others were too scared to touch. Now he chased cheating husbands through dimly lit…

  • English - Suspense

    The Silent Neighbor

    August 26, 2025 - By 

    Arjun Mehra I carried my boxes up the third-floor because the lift wheezed and stalled and there was nobody to complain to at nine at night. The landing bulb blinked, giving the corridor a feeling of breathing, and my new door, 3B, looked like a mouth that had forgotten how to smile. I wanted anonymity: an unremarkable building, a small deposit, closed doors until my thoughts stopped arguing with the past. The lock turned cleanly. The rooms smelled of old paint and last year’s rain, dull enough to feel like starting over. Across the landing stood 3A. Curtains drawn, a…

  • English - Travel

    Under the Tuscan Rain

    August 25, 2025 - By 

    Karan Sehgal Part 1: The Smell of Olive Pits The rental car smelled faintly of olive pits and cold metal, like someone had bottled last summer and left it under the seat to ferment. It was a squat white Fiat Panda, dented on one door and stubborn in second gear, the kind of car that looks offended by hills. The clerk at the Florence airport, a woman with a swift smile and a tattoo of an anchovy on her wrist, handed me the keys and said, “She hates rain but loves radio.” When I asked what station the car preferred,…

  • English - Young Adult

    The Firefly Pact

    August 8, 2025 - By 

    Isla Verma Mira Patel wasn’t expecting to find anything interesting in a house that smelled like mothballs and mildew. Her grandfather’s old bungalow in Elmsworth was the kind of place that felt stuck between timelines—one foot in 1973, the other refusing to acknowledge anything after dial-up internet. Still, here she was, sleeves rolled up, armed with cardboard boxes, and guilt-tripped by her father into helping him “sort things out.” “Start with the attic,” he’d said, handing her a flashlight like they were preparing for a cave dive instead of old furniture and dead spiders. The attic door groaned like something…