Storyy Hut

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

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 bother

  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 lone

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 this Ada’s fragile frame and eyes deprived of their magnificent sparkle, she moved around the house with grace an

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. I raced o

“I am sorry but we did everything we could” the heads surgeon’s words landed heavily on me. My heart fell at those words and within a jiffy my world came tumbling down, shattering into a thousand pieces. A lone tear traced its path down my cheek as I rushed towards her. The walls of the hospital were closing in on me with the never ending fluorescent lights casting an unsettling pallor. My footsteps echoed through the corridor and reverberated with my unsteady heart. At-last I reached the room where she was kept. I looked at the plate besides the door- the name “Divya” engraved on it and delicately embraced by twin rose leafs. It was the same room where we had spent hours dreaming about our life together once this ordeal was over… oblivious to the fact that it were to meet such a fateful end. My hands trembled and time seemed to distort as I slowly started to push open the door afraid of shattering the delicate illusion that she was still with me… I drew the curtains aside and th

In the picturesque town of Shimla, which is located in the Indian hills of the state of Himachal Pradesh, it was a brisk autumn night. The leaves had started to change their shade, casting a warm golden and crimson hue over the landscape and I, for one, couldn't help but be drawn towards the alluring aroma of adventure that was in the air as I leisurely strolled along the crowded Mall Road, captivated by the vibrant energy and the melodic chatter of passersby. Then, amid the lively atmosphere, a strange sight caught my eye: a new bar hidden among the charming storefronts. I was drawn in by its vintage exterior, which promised an adventure and a lively atmosphere within its enigmatic walls. I hesitated for a moment, intrigued but eager for a break from the bustle of daily life. I then made the rash decision to enter this unfamiliar establishment, completely unaware of the enigmatic journey that awaited me beyond its doors, with an inquisitive smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

A sense of fear and uncertainty hung in the night air, shrouding the deserted city streets in an impenetrable veil of darkness. Every now and then a patrol car would drive by with its siren wailing, casting eerie shadows that danced ominously along the walls of the tall buildings. In the confines of his tiny apartment. Subashish Roy, a young and passionate writer, sat alone, his eyes fixed on the flickering screen of his worn-out computer. Subashish was no ordinary individual; he was a man with an unwavering determination to resist the iron grip of the oppressive regime that had ruthlessly seized control of his beloved country. For years, he had watched in horror as his fellow citizens lived in fear, as their voices were cruelly silenced and their dreams mercilessly crushed under the weight of tyranny. But Subashish refused to succumb to the suffocating atmosphere; a defiant ember of hope burned brightly within him. In this spirit of unrelenting defiance that Subashish poured his h

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 endeavo

I drew the curtains aside to let the glorious rays of sun illuminate my lonely house with its glorious light. It was the perfect autumn evening, the sun on the verge of setting scattered its crimson hue across the sky (save upon a slight cover of dark bellied clouds) while leaves rustled with the gentle breeze as if dancing with pure delight and bringing life to this static setting. “Nothing beats an autumn evening,” I murmured to myself. Not wanting to miss this opportunity up close, I hurriedly slipped into my shoes and decided to take a stroll down the otherwise gloomy streets of the city and enjoy the beauty of the season. I walked through the marketplace and stopped at a cozy café to get my usual cup of coffee. As I sat down however I felt a sudden tug at my chest. It was the broken heart around my neck, a remembrance of a childhood friendship that had yet to find its counterpart or perhaps the bearer of the other portion didn’t want to. As I leisurely sipped through my co

I looked down the balcony and saw stark emptiness below. It was rather chilly evening and everybody seemed to be cozy inside their homes. I looked down, intently following the pattern on the pavement, as tears incessantly flowed down my cheeks. I leaned further against the railing; I didn’t dare call my father which left me with just one option but I couldn’t muster up the courage to do so… but I weighed the odds- that stinging frustration and the probable eternity of humiliation against a moment of pain, my “leap of faith”. I finally drew-in a deep breath of the brisk cold air and leaned forward until my trembling feet could not touch the ground.   *** That morning I tapped my feet relentlessly against the floor of my living room. “Any moment now…”I murmured beneath my breath. For a good whole year I had solely focused on getting into one of the top NLUs, some of the most prestigious law schools in the country. It had been truly a demanding year and needless to say I had put-in all th