22 April,2026 09:18 AM IST | Mumbai | Sonali Velinker Kamat
Pic/Shadab Khan
Natasa Stankovic serves up a âsquare' meal of sartorial excellence outside a gourmet essentials store on Tuesday. Whether she's picking up organic greens or just showing off her own, Hardik Pandya's exquisite ex proves that with the right crochet-and-denim combo, every grocery run is a runway
In the middle of a high-octane campaign trail in West Bengal last week, Prime Minister Narendra Modi took a brief detour that proved some of his best lines aren't found in a teleprompter. Stopping at a roadside stall in Jhargram, he ordered a serving of jhalmuri - the iconic Bengali street snack of spicy puffed rice. As the vendor began mixing the ingredients, he paused to ask a standard culinary question: "Aap pyaaz khaate hain?" Without missing a beat, Modi delivered a classic, deadpan zinger: "Haan, pyaaz khaate hain. Dimag nahi khaate bass."
Narendra Modi
The quick-witted comeback instantly turned a routine snack break into a viral sensation - highlighting Modi's ability to pivot from formal statesman to relatable, humorous traveller in seconds. Even amidst the heat of the 2026 elections, this âjhalmuri break' serves as a reminder that sometimes, the sharpest political tools are a sense of humour and a side of mustard oil.
Given the slapstick exchanges that often define Indian award show presentations, a little disorder is practically part of the programming. But at a glitzy ceremony last week, the real drama unfolded far from the spotlight - and it had nothing to do with the script.
Word from an insider suggests a full-blown backstage standoff between the organisers and the event's audio-visual team, with the oldest trigger in the business at the heart of it: unpaid bills. While delayed payments aren't exactly rare in this line of work, this time the standoff escalated. The crew reportedly refused to switch on - or even set up - until their dues were cleared.
As tempers flared behind the scenes, guests had already begun to trickle in, and the evening's A-list host was left waiting awkwardly in the wings for the screens and sound to come alive. After frantic negotiations and some last-minute number-crunching, we hear a compromise was finally reached. The show did go on, but not before more than an hour had slipped away. Clearly, even in showbiz, the real performances often happen offstage.
I'm still giggling over a poster from last week wishing the extremely erudite BR Ambedkar on his birth anniversary. Beneath a large image of the larger-than-life statesman was a strapline that read: "Symble of knowledge."
Kajol in Tanhaji: The Unsung Warrior
Appreciating the irony, one also appreciates that the intent was sincere - but the execution gave us an unplanned lesson in how a single misplaced letter can upend even the most reverent message. And just when you think such things are rare, the universe doubles down.
Only yesterday, yours truly spotted another howler from the world of historical epics. Designer Nachiket Barve, revisiting his work on the 2020 film Tanhaji, ended up crediting himself - a little too creatively - for working on Kajol's look in "The Undung Warrior."
Nachiket Barve
For a man who rarely has a stitch out of place, this slip is hardly evidence of anything systemic - one loose spelling counts for nought when the craftsmanship is always tight. Instead, it proves that while history demands reverence, autocorrect demands vigilance. Honestly, whether you're honouring icons or dressing them for the silver screen, even the grandest narratives can be quietly hijacked by a single, mischievous typo. We know it all too well!
With the on-field drama of the Indian Premier League hitting a fever pitch, it's easy to miss where some of the real magic is happening - well away from the cameras. Behind the scenes, the tournament reportedly feels less like a grind and more like an exclusive rock residency.
Lasith Malinga
âYorker King' Lasith Malinga has swapped his slinging arm for a six-string, and is often spotted strumming everything from brooding Bollywood ballads to the smooth stylings of Sting. Those devastating toe-crushers, it turns out, are delivered by surprisingly melodic fingers.
The Mumbai Indians bowling coach isn't a solo act, either. In the Sunrisers Hyderabad camp, Pat Cummins offers a more refined counterpoint - the captain is an accomplished pianist who slips away to the keys in search of rhythm beyond the T20 chaos.
Pat Cummins and Dwayne Bravo
Meanwhile, the backrooms of Chennai Super Kings and Kolkata Knight Riders have quietly turned into impromptu conservatories, with support staff picking up acoustic guitars during team bonding sessions. And, of course, âDJ' Dwayne Bravo remains the league's resident frontman, making sure the energy never dips.
In a tournament that doubles as a whirlwind tour across India, maybe this is how players stay composed. Forget the strategic timeout - we're waiting for the first IPL Unplugged album drop.