Someone had to say it

A lift ride that turned into a contact sport. A cinema full of adult toddlers. And a birthday tribute to the one royal South Asians will defend like she’s family. (Because she kinda is). Let’s unpack the chaos, the cringe, and the cultural canon.

Lift? More Like Letdown.

I was at a mall the other day that was packed with people, and lifts that seemed to be operating on vibes and spite. We were stuck waiting on the top floor, watching every other level get serviced like royalty while ours got ghosted. Not broken. Just rude.

When one finally showed up (ten years later, give or take) and we managed to squeeze ourselves in, we thought we’d won. But no. That’s when the real horror began. A group of seven marched in like it was their moment, physically shoving the rest of us further back, despite our very vocal protests. The lift was already full. But that didn’t stop them. They huffed, puffed, and jammed themselves in like overpacked suitcases at a budget airline check-in.

And in a twist of pure poetic justice? The lift hit the weight limit and refused to budge. So guess who had to step out?

Look, we all want to get places. But where’s the etiquette? The spatial awareness? The basic human decency? This isn’t a mosh pit. No one’s getting front row to Taylor Swift.

Last Word: If Sri Lankan lifts are anything to go by, our real national sport isn’t cricket (Yes, yes, volleyball is the official one. But you’d never guess, the way we’ve collectively decided it’s cricket), it’s aggressive overcrowding with a side of audacity.

Cinema Etiquette? Never Heard of Her.

Let me set the scene for you: an empty cinema. I mean empty empty. The kind where you can stretch your legs, throw your bag on the next seat, and live your best main-character life. Just us… and one other row, directly behind.

Sounds like peace? Bliss? The kind of setup where everyone behaves like functioning adults and enjoys the film quietly?

Wrong.

Turns out, age does not equal etiquette. The group of mid-20-somethings behind us spent the entire movie kicking our seats like they were trying to break into Narnia, running a full audio commentary like the director personally asked for their thoughts, and being so disruptive that I forgot I paid to watch a film, not endure an improv performance by the cast of “No Manners: The Reboot.”

It’s giving toddler energy in grown-up bodies.

Last Word: If you wanted to talk through a movie, babe, the living room is right there. Don’t bring chaos to the cinema. We came for Dolby, not your diatribe.

It’s Diana’s Birthday. And South Asians Still Ride or Die for Her.

Today would’ve been Princess Diana’s 64th birthday. And even now, decades later, South Asia hasn’t moved on, not from her eyeliner, not from her revenge dress, and definitely not from the drama. Our mothers clipped her photos from magazines. Our aunties still bring her up mid-lunch like the betrayal just happened yesterday. And yes, some of them are still lowkey mad at Camilla. Because once you’ve picked a side, you stay loyal.

She wasn’t just the People’s Princess. Around here, she was the patron saint of soft power and silent rebellion. The woman who walked through landmine zones in heels and waved through paparazzi tears. For a region used to swallowing emotion and smiling anyway, Diana felt like one of us, adored, controlled, judged, and still trying to be free.

And maybe that’s why the love hasn’t faded. Because Diana wasn’t just the People’s Princess. She was proof that even behind castles and crowns, women were still expected to shut up, smile, and play along, and she refused.

Last Word: They tried to script her life. She rewrote the ending.

Until next week, stay gracious, stay grown, and remember, Diana would never.
– Rihaab