He had spent the last ten years dragging himself through a life where he was invisible. His wife barely looked at him without complaint, his children forgot his birthdays, his boss saw him as nothing more than a cog in the corporate machine, and even the few people he called friends rolled their eyes atContinue reading “The Last Stop”
Tag Archives: writing
Dashami
The fragrance of incense filled the air, and the rhythmic beats of the dhaak reverberated through the bustling pandal. It was Shasti, the first day of Durga Puja, and the city of Kolkata was draped in lights, laughter, and celebration. Abir stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the colourful festivities unfold. He loved theContinue reading “Dashami”
The Meeting
The evening sun was gradually dissolving into the horizon, casting a golden hue over the quaint little cafe that had been their spot. It was tucked away from the hustle of the main street, a place of warmth, intimate corners, and memories that lingered like the faint aroma of coffee beans in the air. HeContinue reading “The Meeting”
Two Worlds
Ananya hadn’t planned on falling in love with the mountains. She had simply needed a break—a pause from the rush of her daily life. Her marriage to Veer was comfortable, steady, and safe. They had built a good life together, full of routine and stability. But lately, something had been missing. The quiet yearning sheContinue reading “Two Worlds”
Moonlight Cabin
Abhishek sat behind the counter of the dilapidated bookstore on College Street, surrounded by dusty piles of forgotten literature. The narrow lanes outside hummed with the chaotic symphony of honking rickshaws, hawkers, and the distant clang of tram bells. The air in North Kolkata was thick with humidity and history, an undercurrent of unspoken tensionContinue reading “Moonlight Cabin”
Love, Kolkata
Kolkata, with its vintage trams, yellow taxis, and the eternal scent of chai brewing at every street corner, was a city that thrived on contradictions. It was where old world charm met a vibrant, modern pulse—a reflection of life itself. And amidst the city’s bustling heart, where honking cars clashed with the sacred chime ofContinue reading “Love, Kolkata”
The Hollow Echo
He stood by the window, staring blankly at the city below, a mass of cold, indifferent concrete. The sky above, murky and grey, seemed to press down upon the world, heavy with the weight of a million lives moving in sync, while he drifted—forgotten, detached and aimless. It had been months since life happened. First,Continue reading “The Hollow Echo”
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