Storyy Hut

The bustling village of Rampur was shrouded in the silent mist of a peculiarly cold winter night. The relentless waves of Himalayan winters had driven its few hundred souls to retreat to their houses and hatchets, leaving the unfortunate duo—Manjunath and Rangilla—out on their own to brave through these ruthless midwinter gusts. “ Pardesi babu , it’s pitiable these folks close their shops so soon,” Rangilla said at last, breaking the hush. “A tea at this moment would have been heavenly.” “I agree, Rangilla, but these folks don’t seem particularly inclined to serve us today,” Manjunath replied. “On second thought, it is well that we tread hastily through this forsaken place before midnight.” His tone fell to a whisper “They say that he dwells amidst these crooked trees; his gaze once fell on a passerby, whose breaths did he cease.” In the short time that he had known him, Manjunath was oblivious to this poet within Rangilla, though he knew well the man’s fondness for superstitio...

Mud swallowed every step that private Thompson took. The November rain had turned the mooring lands of Hürtgen Forest into a sucking mire, its damp air reeking of decay and rot. He trudged forward, armed with his mud covered rifle, in this eerily silent forest with its trees casting a suffocating gloom over him. Last night, his regiment had been ambushed by the Germans, forcing them to disperse in the dead of night to avoid being gun down. He remembered losing the company of his comrades, and then his balance as he tripped midflight in this usurping mud land. The next thing he knew; he was in the middle of nowhere in this hellish battle land. Alone and forgotten. But then he saw them, in a distance, a heart-wrenching march of death. He hid, he crawled through the muddy swampy land till he reached a point where these wavering figurines took the shape of soldiers- slow but fluid and unwavering in their movements. They stood in the mist-shrouded trench ahead. Their uniforms were old—b...

The engine roared as Jake’s foot pressed against the gas pedal. He had just got out of the dealer with this fine specimen of German engineering which felt like an unrestrained colt under the expertise of his hands, just waiting for its master’s command. He had managed to strike an unbelievably good bargain with the dealer who seemed too keen to get this car off his hands. “A car like this at such a price is a definite steal” Thought Jake as his car raced through the downtown “I wonder why the dealer wouldn’t cash-in on its real worth” But he pushed these thoughts out and single-mindedly fixated his mind upon the raging engine that pushed the speedometer higher and higher. His heart raced and his veins pumped thrill as adrenaline took over his mind. The roar of the engine coupled with the empty intersection didn’t help in easing this rush. The car seemingly communicated its intent to be unleashed as it thundered with every flick of his foot and responded marvelously with every twist...

Kolkata, rightly acknowledged as the city of joy, is a major metropolitan of India which prides itself as a hotspot of various cultures and inspirations, as it rose from a strong colonial influence to establish itself as a mixture of both hemispheres and a cosmopolitan which has created a distinct identity as an amalgamation of a multitude of people. Famed for its culinary mastery and remarkable architecture, it manages to hides some dark mysteries within its folds, exhibiting its misfortune to some ill-fated. *** Year- 1996 Mr. Bhattacharya was a man of science, a firm believer in the evidentiary sciences behind the myth of paranormal, he was closely associated with many science clubs and awareness groups during his college days itself. A bank employee and a family man, his profile was amenable to any other common man you would see walking down the streets of Kolkata. A man of prolific caliber and a perfectionist to the core, he would usually stay in his small cabin after his usual of...

Rhea’s stomach fluttered with a mix of anticipation and delight as she navigated through the transient streets of Delhi. Accustomed to the ways of a small town, Rhea had never fathomed as a child about the dreams that this vast city would imbibe into her. Perhaps that was why she left her tranquil home in Banaras to study at one of Delhi’s most prestigious colleges. Those couple of years really did bring her closer to her grandmother before she moved abroad to pursue a promising career in economics. Since then it had been more than two years since she set foot into this vibrant agglomerate and now, finally back, Rhea was more than eager to visit her beloved grandparents. As her cab raced through the chaotic Delhi traffic, every minute felt like an eternity, the longest of her life, until she finally arrived. The house seemed exactly as she remembered it when she had left it, the rose plants nestled amongst the dandelions besides the garage that prided itself in the arrayed car collecti...

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...

I was ten when my family moved to Alabama. It was my very first summer in Huntsville and as much as my young eyes adored viewing new wonders of this world, I was saddened by the lonesome that I was carrying from the past few months. Moving to a new place was an incredibly unfamiliar experience for me, as was leaving all my friends and familiar faces behind. This upheaval had a grave impact on my mind, making me reluctant to make new acquaintances. This went on for a few months until my parents, concerned about my isolation, decided it would be beneficial for me to socialize with other kids at a neighborhood park and so every other day I went to this park, adjacent to a cemetery, on maple hills… our go-to neighborhood park for our brief stay in that city. That day, a dark overcast one as much as I remember, was my first desperate attempt to meet new people, which I believed was the only way to escape my ordeal. Coming from a place with terribly hot tropical days, the sun never b...

 Year – 2003: Jayant was returning from the cold, picturesque town of Manali after dropping off his passengers, a newlywed couple on holiday. Their incessant stoppages, coupled with the endless queue of cars around the time-honored settlement nestled within the enchanting Himalayas, meant he had to depart at dusk. The crimson hue of the sunset was a sweet foreboding of the imminent hours of darkness and the menacing phenomena that these revered ancient hills brought with them. Jayant, despite being conditioned by his orthodox family, had never been a keen follower of spirituality, but he had heard his share of tales of spirits haunting the woods of these mystical hills. As the path ahead of him twisted and turned, he smiled at the recollection of such creations of the mind. The first leg of the journey went comfortably; he even managed a stopover at a roadside eatery attached to a small motel. There, he met Sajan Singh, a fellow trucker out on a commercial assignment in these l...

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....