Man claims wife possessed after she starts speaking Tamil
A car cleaner in Chennai may have just come up with the perfect script for the next Conjuring movie.
In a paranormal twist, the employee left his boss stunned with his reason for taking extended leave, "Mere wife ko chudail ne pakad liya hai (my wife has been possessed)."
In an X post, the employer shared that he initially offered financial help, assuming the cleaner’s emergency was a regular family issue. But when the man, who is originally from Nepal, revealed the full story, it left him completely spooked.
He explained, “My wife has been possessed by a ghost. In the last six months, she’s started speaking fluent Tamil. Not a few words. Entire sentences. Almost like a native speaker. She’s never learned Tamil.”
He claimed that they live in a close-knit Nepali community in Chennai, and his wife has almost no exposure to Tamil.
The family tried everything, from doctors at a government hospital, to seeking spiritual help, but in vain.
After two months of spiritual treatment and zero improvement, one imam reportedly said, “Take her back home. If she stays here, she may not survive.”
So now, the man is heading back to Nepal with his ‘possessed’ wife.
If there really is an entity possessing her, it might just be the most dedicated language coach ever because she went from ‘Namaste’ to ‘Vanakkam’ in just six months.
Teen topples 76-year curse
In a plot twist that would make 3 Idiots and Rocky fist-bump across cinematic dimensions, a 15-year-old from a village forgotten by textbooks and Google Maps just KO’d a decades-old academic drought — by passing Class 10 for the first time ever.
Move over Hogwarts letters and IIT admit cards, because Ramkeval of Nizampur has just pulled off the educational equivalent of landing a rocket on Mars — with nothing but sheer willpower, second-hand textbooks, and a solar lamp.
Hailing from Nizampur — a village in Uttar Pradesh’s Barabanki where board exam results have been MIA since 1947 — Ramkeval became the first villager to ever pass Class 10.
That’s right. The village has seen zero matriculation certificates. Until now.
By day, he lit up wedding processions. By night, he lit up his future.
Earning Rs. 250 for lugging around fairy lights while people danced, this boy then cracked open his books under a flickering solar lamp like it was the final season of Kota Factory.
“People laughed,” Ramkeval recalled, “but I always believed I’d pass.” Now, the tables have turned.
District Magistrate Shashank Tripathi honoured the prodigy in a function. He pledged full support for Ramkeval’s future studies.
Ramkeval's mother, Pushpa — the school cook — wiped away tears while beaming, “He’s going to be an engineer. I just know it.”
Woman claims Red Fort
In what sounds like a deleted subplot from Mughal-e-Azam 2.0, a woman claiming to be the widow of the great-grandson of Bahadur Shah Zafar-II marched to the Supreme Court with a plea that could make even Sanjay Leela Bhansali blush — ‘she wanted the Red Fort back’.
Yes, the Red Fort.
Her claim?
That the British “ye olde colonisers” wrongfully snatched the monument post-1857, and that the Indian government was squatting on ancestral property.
The apex court slammed the imperial door shut, calling her plea “misconceived” and “meritless.”
“If we accept this, why stop at the Red Fort? Should we hand over Agra Fort, Fatehpur Sikri too? Maybe even Humayun’s Tomb while we’re at it?” Chief Justice Sanjiv Khanna said.
Social media had a royal feast.
One user posted, “Plot twist: Netflix announces ‘The Crown: Delhi edition’.”
Another chimed in, “Mughal claims Red Fort, next up—Tipu Sultan’s descendant files for Mysore Palace. Stay tuned!”
But Sultana Begum, the self-declared Mughal-in-law, wasn’t ready to abdicate yet.
Her lawyer argued that she was part of the family of India’s “first freedom fighter.”
The Supreme Court didn't entertain this history.
Patna’s 10-minute blackout party
On May 7, Patna experienced a ten-minute blackout. Sirens blared, lights vanished, and the city... came out to chill.
This wasn’t a bijli board ki gaffe. It was Operation Abhyas, a nationwide civil defence drill by the Union home ministry.
The idea: prepare people for emergencies.
The result: As soon as the lights went out, people stepped out. Not because they were scared. Because FOMO is real. No streetlights? No problem. Flashlights from phones were enough.
A video went viral on social media where people gathered on streets during the blackout. They were seen capturing videos on their mobile phones.
The Telegraph Online has not verified the authenticity of the video.
One person reacted to the video on social media saying, "Hum Bihari hai maut aane pe bhi tandav karte hain (We’re Biharis, even in the face of death, we break into a tandav)."
By the time power returned, streets had cleared but Instagram was lit. Mission: blackout. Outcome: Content bonanza.
Rs 21 crore ‘Mayra’ gift video stuns the internet
Move over Ambanis. A Rajasthan family has just turned a pre-wedding ritual into a full-blown blockbuster.
A viral video from a Mayra ceremony has Instagram doing double takes. Not because of a dance performance, not even a groom on a horse — but because the bride's family casually gifted Rs 21 crore worth of goodies.
The video, shared by photographer Sonu Ajmer, opens like an episode of Antiques Roadshow. A man, mic in hand, starts listing: 1 kilo of gold, 15 kilos of silver, Rs 1.5 crore in cash, 210 bighas of land, a petrol pump, a plot in Ajmer and enough vehicles to start a used car dealership.
All of it handed over in front of 600 to 700 relatives, who arrived in 100 cars and 4 luxury buses. One video shows four massive suitcases filled with gifts being wheeled in like they were checking into a five-star hotel.
Naturally, the internet had thoughts. Some users argued that Mayra is tradition, not dowry. Others were more sceptical, calling it “glorified dowry with a fancier name.”
One comment read, “So basically, they sold the groom and gave cashback too.” Another said, “Plot twist: the bride runs off with the petrol pump.”
While the family insists it’s all about love and blessings, many viewers wondered if it’s time for cultural rituals to get a reality check. Or at least a budget cap.
Because when your pre-wedding ceremony costs more than a Netflix original, it may be less about tradition and more about inflation.
(Compiled by Sohini Paul, Aniket Jha, Payel Das, Subharup Das Sharma)