akjshu
Fun studd The train screeched to a halt, its brakes groaning in protest as it settled into the platform at Howrah Station. A wave of humid air, thick with the scent of coal smoke and spices, washed over the passengers as they disembarked. Among them were Maya, a young woman with wide, curious eyes, and her grandparents, who were returning to their beloved Calcutta after years spent in the quiet countryside. For Maya, the city was an assault on the senses. The cacophony of car horns, hawkers' calls, and the rhythmic chanting of rickshaw pullers was a stark contrast to the gentle sounds of her village. The streets teemed with people – families out for an evening stroll, office workers rushing home, and street vendors selling everything from steaming cups of chai to colorful bangles. Her grandparents, however, navigated the chaos with a practiced ease, their faces lit up with a familiar joy. They led Maya through the labyrinthine alleys of Kumortuli, where artisans sculpted idols of g...