'Phule' movie review: Not as revolutionary as the couple
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Indian Express
44 minutes ago
- Indian Express
Pune hosts exhibition to mark Austrian poet Ernst Jandl's birth centenary
Written by Viraj Mandar Paranjape To mark the 100th birth anniversary of Austrian poet, writer, and translator Ernst Jandl, the Goethe-Institut Max Mueller Bhavan Pune, in collaboration with the German Department of Savitribai Phule Pune University (SPPU), has organised a special exhibition celebrating his life and work. The exhibition features 24 multisensory installations in German, English, and Marathi, and seeks to bring alive Jandl's experimental style through 3D structures, soundscapes, visual projections, and artistic interpretations. Dr Fetz, who has written extensively on post-war Austrian literature, underlined how Jandl used poetry as resistance against the misuse of language in propaganda, turning words into tools of liberation rather than manipulation. Known as a pioneer of German-speaking concrete and sound poetry movement, Jandl explored the very texture of language in his works — whether through sound poems that only reveal their meaning when spoken, visual poems where the arrangement of words is central, or satirical verses that comment on politics, war, and human behaviour. Poems such as Schtzngrmm — imitating the rattling of machine guns during World War II — showcased his ability to convey meaning through pure sound. Speaking at the inauguration, Alicia Padros, Deputy Director and Head of the Language Department at Max Mueller Bhavan Pune, said the exhibition highlights Jandl's groundbreaking use of 'sound, structure and space' and reflects the institute's effort to promote German culture in innovative formats. The programme also featured a skit by university students depicting the grim emotions of World War II, along with a Kathak-based dance performance by Aishwarya Joshi on Jandl's poem 'West l du mich.' The piece interpreted the poem through classical Indian dance, connecting German literature to Indian traditions and highlighting how art and language can bridge cultures. Vaishali Dabke, Projektreferentin Bildungskooperation Deutsch / Project Manager Educational Services at Goethe Institut / Max Mueller Bhavan, added, 'We want to encourage more and more Punekars to learn foreign languages, break barriers, and explore German through poets like Ernst Jandl. This exhibition at The Box Studio offers an exclusive experience that goes beyond the page.' Curated by Chaitanya Modak, the exhibition is thematically arranged around five motifs explored by Jandl: being one with nature, being human, being civilised, being warriors, and the idea of death. (Viraj Mandar Paranjape is an intern with The Indian Express)
News18
2 hours ago
- News18
'Three Little Piggies…' Saaniya Chandhok, Sara Tendulkar's Throwback Video Goes Viral
Last Updated: A year-old video of Sara Tendulkar and Saaniya Chandhok at Kew Little Pigs Farm has gone viral after Saaniya's engagement to Arjun Tendulkar, highlighting their friendship. A year-old video featuring Sara Tendulkar enjoying a day out with Saaniya Chandhok has gone viral again, just days after Saaniya's engagement to cricketer Arjun Tendulkar. The resurfaced footage from August 2023 offers a glimpse into the warmth and camaraderie the two women have shared well before the recent family milestone. Day Out at an English Farm The clip, originally posted by Sara in collaboration with friends, shows her, Saaniya, and another companion at Kew Little Pigs Farm, a petting zoo in the UK specializing in miniature pigs and other farm animals. The trio can be seen feeding piglets, stroking sheep, and posing for cheerful photos with the animals. Sara captioned the post with a playful line: 'Three little piggies went on an adventure," a detail that now feels significant in light of Saaniya's formal entry into the Tendulkar family. The lighthearted farm outing has resurfaced shortly after Arjun Tendulkar, 25, son of cricket icon Sachin Tendulkar, got engaged to Saaniya in a private ceremony on August 13. The ceremony, attended by close family and friends in Mumbai, marks the latest chapter in a relationship that insiders say had been known within close circles for some time. The resurfaced video underscores how deeply Saaniya had already been integrated into the Tendulkar family's social fabric long before the engagement announcement. Who is Saaniya Chandhok? At 26, Saaniya Chandhok comes from a family well connected in India's hospitality sector. She is the granddaughter of businessman Ravi Ghai, whose Graviss Group owns The Brooklyn Creamery, manages Baskin Robbins India, and has significant holdings in the food and hospitality industry. Graviss Food Solutions Pvt. Ltd. reported revenues of ₹624 crore in FY23–24, underlining the scale of its operations. Social Media Reacts The video, originally a casual slice-of-life vlog, has taken on new meaning on social platforms, with fans commenting on Sara and Saaniya's effortless camaraderie. For many followers, it provided a nostalgic reminder of their long friendship, now transformed into family ties. First Published: Disclaimer: Comments reflect users' views, not News18's. Please keep discussions respectful and constructive. Abusive, defamatory, or illegal comments will be removed. News18 may disable any comment at its discretion. By posting, you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. Loading comments...
Indian Express
5 hours ago
- Indian Express
The dictionary just went full skibidi — Sorry, grammar snobs, ‘delulu' is legit now
Language is perhaps the most democratic of our institutions. It expands, adapts and mutates to reflect a generation's lived experiences. This week, the Cambridge Dictionary made it plain when it officially added words born in the chaos of TikTok such as 'skibidi,' 'delulu' and 'tradwife' and dignified them with definitions. For some, this feels like an assault on 'proper' English, the linguistic equivalent of graffiti on a cathedral wall. For others, it is long-overdue recognition that online culture is not fringe anymore. Either way, these entries are more than passing curiosities. They define power, identity and imagination in the 21st century. Let's start with 'skibidi.' It originated in Skibidi Toilet, a surreal animated YouTube series in which human heads burst out of toilets to pounding beats. Children and teens picked up the word, using it as an all-purpose exclamation or sometimes as pure nonsense. Cambridge defines it as a term that can mean 'cool,' 'bad' or nothing at all: 'What the skibidi are you doing?' On one level, it is just noise. On another, it is proof of how communities invent language to play, bond and mark generational territory. Dismiss it as brainrot if you like. But Shakespeare himself reveled in playful invention from the absurd mouthful 'honorificabilitudinitatibus' to silly-sounding coinages such as 'swagger' and 'bedazzled.' What once felt like gibberish is now standard English. The stakes are higher with 'tradwife,' shorthand for 'traditional wife.' The word describes women who broadcast their devotion to domesticity online through cooking, cleaning, raising children and submitting to husbands as a lifestyle brand. Cambridge's definition is neutral: 'a married woman, especially one who posts on social media, who stays at home doing cooking, cleaning, etc. and has children that she takes care of.' But the phenomenon is polarising. Admirers see empowerment through tradition, critics see patriarchy wrapped in soft pastels. Unlike 'skibidi,' which is playful, 'tradwife' encodes ideology. Its acceptance into the dictionary underscores how online subcultures now shape mainstream debates about gender and power. However, we must bear in mind that dictionaries do not endorse words, they record it. But by recognising it, they acknowledge how deeply such cultural scripts have penetrated public discourse. Then there's 'delulu,' short for delusional. It began in K-pop fandoms more than a decade ago as a taunt for fans who imagined marrying their idols. On TikTok, it been reborn as philosophy: 'delulu is the solulu,' which means 'believing in your own delusion is the solution.' It is both satire and self-help. It mocks those who have lost touch with reality, but also reclaims fantasy as a tool for resilience. In a world of curated feeds and political misinformation, 'delulu' resonates far beyond fandoms. If you think 'delulu' is just a fan joke, think again. Australia's prime minister Anthony Albanese recently stood in parliament and accused the opposition Coalition of being 'delulu with no solulu.' On the surface, it was a jab, 'delusional with no solution,' about their economic and energy plans. But it also showed how thoroughly internet slang has seeped into politics. Albanese later admitted he had been dared to sneak the phrase into Question Time, but the fact it landed at all says something. Some saw it as cringe, the political equivalent of American actor Steve Buscemi's 'How do you do, fellow kids?' Others saw it as proof that if you want younger voters, you have to at least speak their language. Whether you laugh or wince, it is clear that slang once confined to fandoms and group chats is now shaping the language of national debate in English-speaking nations. 'Delulu,' once a K-pop in-joke, is now a campaign tool. It is a word that captures both the absurdity and the survival instincts of our post-truth age, where belief often counts for more than fact. Other additions reflect different shifts. Take, 'broligarchy,' a jab at wealthy men dominating tech or 'mouse jiggler,' the pandemic-era device for faking productivity, or 'work spouse,' shorthand for office partnerships that feel marital in everything but name. These words may lack TikTok's viral chaos, but together they chart a map of contemporary life, which included remote work, tech monopolies, hybrid intimacy. This is why dictionaries matter. They record the evolution of how people understand themselves. Each new entry is a snapshot of what we fear, desire, mock or valorise. Critics say enshrining slang cheapens English. But that misreads what dictionaries do. They are not guardians of 'proper' speech. They are mirrors. Colin McIntosh, who manages Cambridge's lexical programme, stressed that words only make the cut if they show durability. That's the point: 'skibidi,' 'tradwife' and 'delulu' have outlasted their viral moment. And history suggests today's irritations will be tomorrow's commonplaces. 'Selfie,' 'hangry,' 'blog' were all were once derided as faddish or vulgar. Now they're indispensable. To freeze English at some imagined high point would be to deny it life. Older generations, however, should not despair. Every era has its slang, and every generation thinks the next one is ruining language. What is different today is the speed. TikTok accelerates coinages from in-joke to global lexicon in weeks. The dictionary's job is to separate fleeting noise from lasting change. Whether you roll your eyes at 'skibidi,' bristle at 'tradwife' or laugh at 'delulu,' these words matter because millions of people use them. That is what makes them real. And if language is the collective diary of humanity, then our latest entries make it a little stranger, sharper and more revealing. Because at the end of the day, what the skibidi are you going to do about it?
