Storyy Hut

The snow-clad peaks of the Himalayas had borne witness to countless souls, but never before had they seen a resolve as unflinching as Sudheer’s. With each laboured step, he carved his way upward, braving howling gusts that tore through his jacket like needles and knee-deep snow that had swallowed many a wanderer whole. But Sudheer wasn’t just another explorer chasing myth—he was a man possessed, driven by something more primal: belief, purpose, obsession. An archaeologist by profession and a seeker by nature, Sudheer had set out in search of the Shwet Shankha —the White Conch Shell said to belong to Lord Vishnu himself. Myths claimed it was hidden deep within these mountains, and that its ethereal sound dispelled evil, summoned divine beings, and shifted the balance between this world and the next. Such a herculean piece of mythology was believed to appear only to the worthy. By his side was Sangeeta—his wife, his colleague, and in many ways, his better half. A rationalist to the core,...

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...