prachi jha

By day, Prachi blends into Kolkata’s chaos — a quiet girl selling cosmetics at a Gariahat stall. By night, she becomes someone else: poised, calculated, needed. Born in a small village, poverty pushed her here, not desire. Her phone holds two lives — clients and poems. In secret, she dreams of opening a bookstore, far from neon signs and blurred boundaries. Her life is survival, yes, but also silent rebellion against what was never fair.