By day, Prachi is a quiet presence behind a makeup stall in Gariahat, seamlessly blending into the bustling rhythm of Kolkata’s streets. But when night falls, she transforms—measured, composed, and indispensable. Poverty, not choice, led her from a rural village to the city. Her phone is a portal to two parallel lives: one of clients, the other of verses. In silence, she nurtures a dream of owning a small bookstore, tucked far away from the harsh glare of neon signs. Her life has been one of quiet survival—but also quiet defiance.
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