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The sky shared its palette with yellow which has now completely engulfed it. There existed no other colour in sight. It was the complete dominance of yellow as it enshrined the sky into an endless sea of itself. The horizon can be seen diffused between the shades of light yellow and a hue of dark yellow. Together they still upheld the homogeneity of the sky to match as it appeared closer to the observer. It was a very vast expanse. But it was not throughout. In its emptiness,

The two shades of lipstick were irresistible and she wished she could just grab the nearest one, She stood there, her head barely reaching the table top, but eyes wandering everywhere. The chatty ladies were helping her elder sister put on the most beautiful saree, Her face painted with bright colours from the palette, And gold ornaments that finally saw the light of day. As the saree pleats were being arranged amidst the laughter and gossips, She looked at her new kurta pyj

No one really noticed when it opened. It was small, tucked between a stationary shop and an abandoned post office. The Board above the wooden door read: “The Museum of Forgotten Things.” People walked past it every day, assuming it sold antiques and curiosities. But one rainy afternoon, when the traffic was slow, and curiosity was faster, a young woman named Rhea stepped inside. The air was quiet, not empty quiet, but expectant like the pause before a confession. The museum h

It was a rain-lashed October evening in the year 2000, the kind that turned Calcutta—now Kolkata, though in my heart it would forever remain the chaotic, resilient city of my youth—into a trembling watercolor of greys and ochres, blurred at the edges by veils of soft, unending drizzle that fell not in drops but in sheets of grey regret. The air hung heavy with the mingled scent of wet earth, diesel fumes from sputtering buses, and the musty odor of damp jute sacks drying on b

I have always considered being a woman as a blessing, maybe because I was never deprived of freedom for education or speech which a lot of woman crave even today. But when I come across heart wrenching news of rape, domestic violence, harassment that women are subjected to and there are only a few incidents which are registered in the police because a lot of women and their families are ashamed to address such injustice, I feel like it’s a curse to be born as a girl . What br

I have a very close friend circle. It wasn’t instant. It built itself into a friendship, word by word, over time, with every turning page. Each of us is wildly individual, and incomplete, and yet something about it feels complete. This circle is very active. Just one minor glitch: they’re all dead. Except me, well technically! And I’ve never felt safer. Living people are scary. Their presence demands performance. Smile enough. Talk right. Respond, not too quickly, not too slo

"कौसल्यासुप्रजा राम पूर्वा सन्ध्या प्रवर्तते। उत्तिष्ठ नरशार्दूल कर्तव्यं दैवमाह्निकम्॥" यह भजन अब ‘सरस्वती सोसाइटी’ की सुबह का स्थायी हिस्सा बन गया है। पहले ऐसा नहीं था, लेकिन जबसे पहली मंजिल वाली आज्जी यहाँ पर रहने आई हैं, तब से हर दिन की शुरुआत इसी श्लोक से होती है। उनका असली नाम किसी को नहीं पता — सब उन्हें बस ‘आज्जी’ कहते हैं। हर सुबह ठीक पाँच बजे उठकर वे पूजा-पाठ में लग जाती हैं। कामवाली शांता बाई सबसे पहले उन्हीं के घर जाती है। तब तक आज्जी की रसोई तैयार हो चुकी होत

When you are above 50, you do not realize how soon time flies and you have completed your half century and public is not clapping about it but keeping you remind about your age and I say to them that Age is just a number, if you do not mind it, it does not matter. Really, I believe in this. Why? There are several reasons…Let me explain...For me, as if I am again living my sweet 15. In 15, when you taste the sweetness of youth and you start caring about yourself above everythi

Chapter 1 “Mom… I’ll call you later. I’m getting late, I need to catch the metro.”“That’s why I tell you to sleep early. You never listen to me.”“Okay… okay, bye!”“SAMYUKTA!” screamed Samyukta’s mom. Ahh… I want to throw this phone. “What is it, Mom?”“It’s your dad’s third death anniversary. Are you going to keep avoiding it?”“I said I’m getting late. Bye.” This is not how I used to be—hanging up on my mom like that. But some things just can’t be discussed. She needs to under

We had been married for three years, and today we were waiting for the final ruling. The judge was taking longer than expected. My lawyer looked at me and gave a reassuring nod, as if to say everything would be alright. Then came the moment everyone was waiting for. The judge announced that the divorce was finalised, and my husband would have to pay alimony to me. I looked at him. His head was lowered, his face heavy with frustration. I could not tell whether he was upset abo

On the early hours of one morning, A Poor Single Mother along with her Twins, Her 2 Sons about aged 10 years wake up at their tempory makeshift shelter, They are residing in a Refugee camp set up at a Slum Dwellings located in a place adjacent to a hustling market. The entire camp is also located very near to the area with High Class Societies having High End Apartments residing Diplomats and their families, As one end of the Apartments face the Slums and other end Face

Valentine’s Day is supposed to be all about love and hearts. But for me, it’s about trying to get over with bumping into star-crossed overs making out in public (Gross!). “Gabriela, snap out of it. You’re the no-nonsense girl of Bracket Wood High.” I muttered to myself. Ever since my father left my mum with 6 year old me and my baby brother, I’ve stopped believing in love. Whoever made this stupid idea of people “finding their other half”, well darn them. They were probably

It was the same dream. The sky was covered in dark storm clouds that rained down their contents onto the earth. Thunder crackled as a flash of lightning illuminated the road ahead. A lone figure on the road watched as a red maglev car zoomed past her. There was pandemonium inside the car. The levitation device had been short-circuited after a blast of lightning had hit the car. The car with no wheels was now skidding through the road at high speed and there was no stopping

Ila and Kartik had been married for 3 years. Ila was a housewife and Kartik, an employee at a bank. They had an arranged marriage; both having agreed to the betrothal after their very first meeting. During the course of their first meeting, Ila found Kartik to be an affable fellow with a stable job and life; and Kartik had found Ila to be a beautiful girl with innocence being her most attractive quality. Kartik was a hard-working young man who was respected by his colleagues

Abstract This essay explores the silent war that rages within every human heart—the conflict between conscience and necessity, compassion and survival. Through the allegory of a gardener who must wield a sickle to protect what he loves, it reflects on how moral purity often collides with the harsh realities of life. It questions whether honour loses meaning when it costs lives, and whether restraint becomes cowardice when it lets suffering grow. Yet, it finds redemption not

I never had a good time with time. Years of my life I have spent following schedules, ambitions, and affairs, which promised to last forever but turned out to be fleeting, lasting only six months. Time had invariably come away, careless and silent, and left me in its silence. Previously, I assumed that waiting was a form of discipline, and the universe was letting me know that I was not yet ready. Now I see it differently. Waiting is a form of freezing time, as the parent w

The winding road to Pahalgam stretched out like an endless promise, and the air was so crisp that it felt like we were breathing in our last moments of freedom. I sat next to my older brother, Vihaan, laughing and joking around for the last few minutes of the train ride before we reached the destination for our final trip together. That is, before Vihaan left for university in the US. We had to beg our parents for days to let us go on this trip. Finally, we decided on Pahalg

The rain should have brought relief, but it came with an emptiness inside you. The doctor fled after the mother died, leaving her newborn in your lap. The baby had no idea what this world had become, and you couldn’t save the woman who brought her into it. You were the one who wanted to die—an end to all regrets and to the life that never was. And with that, it was all too welcoming: wars, riots, mob justice, separatists, religions running wild, Celsius soaring past fifty, ru

I ran to the washroom, locked it, and leaned against the wall. I had a different feeling this time. A feeling that I had never experienced before, a feeling of deep satisfaction and happiness. I went near the wash basin and kept staring at the mirror placed, just above it. Lots of memories flashed before my eyes. I felt a sudden chill, and in the next moment, I was back in the past. I heard my mother calling me out in a loud voice, “What are you doing inside for this long? Co

It’s a quiet kind of struggle, isn’t it? The urge to say everything, to let it all out, yet holding back the words that just feel too heavy, vulnerable, or maybe too final. Sometimes it’s the silence that we choose that turns into our loudest form of communication. It speaks volumes, but in the stillness, there’s a strange strength. A way of holding back our emotions. A Walk Through Aarav’s Safe Zone Delhi hummed around Aarav Malhotra. He moved with a familiar beat through th