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Love in Disguise

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James tapped the wooden table impatiently, watching condensation gather around his untouched whiskey glass. He listened intently to the low hum of the café that blended into the patter of rain against the window. Outside, the amber glow of the city hid behind the curious horde of people, their shadows masked by the night. He glanced at his watch- 7.45 p.m. He sighed, Elise had been late. She had chosen this place for its serenity, unpretentious display of depositions. Here time crawled slower, a thousand whispers resonated within its walls- a perfect place, she vouched, for people who had met over text. They had met over a blind dating app- maybe not  met  per se but they had exchanged messages—long, meandering texts filled with book recommendations, thoughts on existence, and the shared grief of feeling a little misplaced in the world. James had felt something in their conversations, something rare that he hadn’t felt before- the rush of dopamine was certainly addicting for h...
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Till The End of Time

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The crisp air of Mussoorie enveloped me as I returned to my ancestral home after thirteen years. Memories flooded my mind, especially those of a childhood friend whose laughter lingered in the recesses of my memory. Her image remained vivid—a bubbly girl with lush black hair intertwined into curls framing her rosy-cheeked face. It was the summer of '99 when we shared a tender moment, our first kiss, just before I departed for Delhi, merely a month after my 13 th  birthday. Fate had swept me away, leaving behind cherished memories and an ache in my heart. Returning to Mussoorie, I sought her amidst familiar streets and homes, only to find her residence occupied by strangers. But fate always has a peculiar way of reuniting kindred spirits, I liked to believe so for faith was one of the few things keeping me together nowadays- I sighed. One particular serendipitous day, while lost in the reverie of our past adventures, I glimpsed a figure in the woods—familiar, yet surreal....
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The Timeless Love- A Journey of Shattered Souls

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I had woken up late today as I had been for the past few months. Day upon day of incessant drinking was beginning to take its toll on me as I once again woke up with a crippling dizziness coupled with a piercing pain in my temples and severe dehydration. I groaned as I lifted myself off the bed and with supreme efforts was I able to shamble to the kitchen. I sat by the kitchen counter and gulped down the glass of water in a jiffy. The window curtains were drawn, like they always were lest I be blinded by daylight in my deplorable state. Just then my gaze fell upon a shiny object on the kitchen counter. I rubbed my eyes and focused intently until I was able to see a ring. My heart fell at the sight of it and, with a lump in my throat, I picked it up. The initials- “S.A.”   clearly inscribed on the eternal platinum quite contrary to our fates. I had met Sarah under the usual circumstances but our tales was equally remarkable… so much so that no-one in their sane mind would ...
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The Forgotten Village

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Young Evelyn hadn’t set out to be a war reporter. In early 1940s, women seldom did so, but young Evelyn was different. She was a budding journalist, eager and ambitious yet confined to writing human interest stories for the morning daily. She had grown up in a household where current events and world affairs were freely discussed over dinner. Often she would hear the stories of the Great War and chafe at the limitations placed on her by the virtue of her gender. She yearned to cover the stories that mattered, stories that shaped the world. In pursuit of this cause, she repeatedly applied for overseas assignments but was only met with rejection. “The front line is a cruel place, one not for a woman” she’d often hear the editor say but her tenacity knew no bounds. She was driven by a belief to tell the war-bound tales from where the bombs fell and lives were torn apart. Her breakthrough, however, came unexpectedly. An older correspondent, tom Anderson, was critically injured in a bombard...
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The Apartment

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My toes wriggled in my boots, a smile playing on my lips as I stood at the entrance of my new flat, the one I’d just leased. From the day I first went downtown with all its vibrant hues and sweet commotion bustling with activity, I longed to move to this part of the city. When I found a decent apartment near the square at an incredible rent, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity slide. I opened the door to let the musky air out and stepped inside. It was a typical two-bedroom apartment with its enormous white walls begging to be decorated. The place was still empty, but the movers were to arrive any second. It was a modest bargain, understandable given the price, but this prime location made up for it. I turned on the fan and, taking in a deep breath, slumped against the wall. I relished the scene of the empty apartment, my body tingling with a sense of achievement. I had managed to get a place to stay in a decent neighborhood, all by myself. Despite initial apprehensions about the che...
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The Trade in Shadows

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Amidst the gloomy parlors and strangulating societal norms of Victorian England, is a tale deep-rooted in a world where appearances concealed dark secrets... one such is the tale of the “syndicate of shadows” and it’s enigmatic leader- Sir Reginald.  Mind you, he wasn’t just another heartless villain but a man so terribly torn between his hunger for power and the weight of hidden vulnerabilities for beneath his mask, the mask of control and power, lay the scars of a tragic past that drove him to the edge to exploit others to such extremes... Ada and Jacob, while seemingly reserved to the role of servants, could not be brushed off as mere pawns. They were indeed bright young individuals with dreams and unwavering hope however these luxuries had been long set aside (but not completely forgotten), to shield their families against the unforgiving business of the world.. Despite Ada’s fragile frame and eyes deprived of their magnificent sparkle, she moved around the house with gra...
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