Watching a movie twice in a theatre is the ultimate endorsement of a movie, and Adha-dhun compelled me to do so, for a simple reason – due to the modern invention of ‘the mobile phone’, my viewing of the piano-dead-body scene was highly interrupted. The scene is probably an iconic scene, in due time it …
Continued from Part 01 Let’s go bit’ Freud’ on Shvetaketu. While growing in the ashram of seer Uddhalaka, he had another companion named Ashtavakra. This Ashtavakra grew up to becomeone of the greatest sages. His works like Ashtavakra Gita and Ashtavakra Samhita explore topics like the nature of metaphysical existence and the meaning of individual …
In the chaotic realm of Crescent’s Christmas party, where gulab jamuns steal the spotlight, students embark on a culinary mission, diligently sorting into groups to bring home-cooked delights. Forget the fashion fuss; our real anxiety lies in the fate of those precious jamuns. Sharing isn’t about profound ideas but the chaotic potluck of preferences.
The gift exchange unfolds like a cinematic drama. Secret Santa is no secret, and the lucky recipient becomes the chocolate hero armed with a Nestle Milkybar that bluntly reads ‘Eat It.’ Destiny, it seems, is intricately woven into the fabric of white chocolate bars, turning a mere gift into a cosmic sign from the universe.
As the party wraps up, we’re not just a bunch of kids with our teachers; we’re a squad of comedians navigating the absurd Crescentian Chronicles, with ridiculous gift dilemmas and the everlasting sweetness of bad gulab jamuns over bad English paper marks. After all, we are the generation that gave Karan Johar his first hit, leaving behind a trail of laughter, chaos, and sugary goodness.