The Potol War of Ballygunge

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in Ballygunge, Kolkata. The ceiling fan whirred in slow, resigned circles. The aroma of macher jhol (fish curry) drifted lazily from the kitchen. The world was at peace, or as peaceful as it could be in the Chatterjee household, home to two of the most unpredictable elements of nature:

He Was Chosen to Be a Hero in Another World

I was not a good man.

I won’t sugarcoat it.

If you had met me a few years ago, you’d have crossed the street. Maybe tightened your grip on your wallet. Maybe whispered a prayer.

I Hope He Is My Cat in Every Universe

The first thing you should know about me is that I am not aloof.

I am dignified.

Silent Whispers of Love

The town of Bhavanipur slept early. By nine o’clock, most doors were bolted, lights dimmed, and only the occasional street dog barked at the moon. To outsiders, it was a place where nothing ever happened, where gossip was louder than truth and traditions carried the weight of law.

The Boy with Polished Dreams

The sun was sharp over the cracked pavement of the bazaar, baking the stalls, the vendors, and the little boy who sat with his shoe-polish box