The Juggernaut

To become a Hindu goddess, there are several things you must do, at least according to “Ayurvedic mentor” Lisa Power. Wake up before sunrise. Massage your body with oil. Steam your yoni. Surround yourself with flowers. Light a “ghee lamp.” If you’re doing all of these things, you’re well on your way to “Lakshmi-maxxing.” As Lisa Power posted on Instagram: “The most radiant, vital & magnetic women are all Lakshmi-Maxxing.” Was this a joke?

Siddharth Sharma has spent the last decade changing how Indian weddings look on camera. As the founder and creative director of famed photography and videography brand House on the Clouds, he and his team have captured some of the most beautiful Indian weddings around the world. From Alia and Ranbir to Rashmika and Vijay — Asia’s most liked Instagram carousel — the brand’s shots have landed on the mood boards for couples globally.

As a kid, Sampada Kaul, now 22, often struggled to pay attention in class. By 13, she developed an “obsessive” fear of eating, worrying she might choke or vomit, she told The Juggernaut. She found bright lights and people so overwhelming that school triggered mental breakdowns. “I would always tell my parents, ‘Please don’t make me go to school,’” she shared. Her parents just thought she was an “undisciplined kid,” and threatened to send her to boarding school.

A man excitedly tells his wife that they must celebrate their son’s annaprasan, or rice-feeding ceremony, in style. “With what money?” the woman counters. The man has given away his orchard to settle debts that moneylenders claimed his family owed. Living in their dilapidated ancestral home in a small village in Bengal, it’s been difficult to feed their family of four, let alone guests. But her husband is a man of letters, education, and idealism.

A woman in an off-white sari with gold borders was doing what many do when celebrating Onam: arranging flowers on the floor; serving rice, payasam, and vegetables on banana leaves; and frying up pappadam and puri. A repost of the video garnered over 1 million views: “Onam’s pan-Indian soft power comes from it being India’s most Instagramable festival that’s celebrated across religious lines.” You’re not imagining it.

Scroll through social media and you’ll find ample videos of what appears to be a uniquely Indian scam: rows of able-bodied passengers sitting in wheelchairs, skipping lines, and boarding flights before anyone else. Sometimes the proof comes after landing, when the passenger “magically” stands up and walks away. Most recently, on August 20, a photo on X with the caption “flight to india (this is insane)” — with dozens of people in wheelchairs — garnered over 21 million views.

Arjuna stands on the battlefield, facing the cousins he must kill. He lowers his bow, unwilling to fight. But the god Krishna urges him to fulfill his duty and perhaps destiny. It’s one of the most famous episodes in the famed epic, the Mahabharata. But in Peter Brook’s 1989 film adaptation, this moment looks completely different. Arjuna is played by an Italian actor. Krishna is British. Of the leads, only one actor, Mallika Sarabhai — who plays Draupadi — is Indian.

Dil Se.. opens with a nervous Shah Rukh Khan in the back of a taxi. He’s trying to get to Haflong, a hill station in Assam, and is running late when police stop him to check his car. “There’s no bomb in your trunk, right?” Khan asks his driver. “No, if you want bombs, you’ll see them 20 kilometers ahead,” the driver says. He’s not really joking. This moment sets up the entire conflict of the film: a militarized region, bomb threats, hidden agendas, and state vs. individual control.

When Jeff Buckley’s “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” opens, you hear a 40-second passage of an instrument you might not expect on an American rock album: the harmonium. The sound is plaintive, droning, almost devotional, and for most South Asian listeners, immediately familiar. The harmonium is so ubiquitous in the Indian subcontinent that it seems like it’s always belonged there. Think: composer R.D. Burman, who literally can’t be photographed without a harmonium.

For Varnitha Devadiga, who grew up in Karnataka, India, sleepovers were some of her most memorable childhood moments. Not because of the experience, but because they sparked some of the worst arguments with her mother. Even before she could finish her request, her mother would say no. “Why do you have to go at night only?” her mother would ask, telling her to hang out with her friends during the daytime.