Sunday, 23 November 2025
Sunday, 23 November 2025
Teacher teaches “Sanday” and “Noge” in Chhattisgarh
In the primary school at Kogwar village, Balrampur district, the blackboard became a land of lost letters and bewildered beginnings. A teacher, entrusted with teaching the basics of English, was caught on camera writing “Sanday” instead of Sunday, “Wensday” instead of Wednesday.
The teacher marched on: “Noge” for nose and “Eare” for ear joined the list. The children, young and obedient, copied these words into their notebooks, unaware they were memorising mistakes. One of the two teachers at the school, the one who wasn’t allegedly napping on the job, was later suspended.
Locals say this wasn’t the first alarm — complaints had piled up for months. Yet two educators remained, one allegedly intoxicated in class, the other spelling the alphabet sideways. The state’s monitoring machinery — smart classrooms, digital learning and all — watched on.
When the truth went viral, the education department suspended a teacher. But the damage — misspelled futures, shaken belief — remains. In a land where a Google search shows the right spelling but a classroom teaches the wrong one, it’s not just about missing letters; it’s about missing the point.
Indian hyperloop
A viral video from Maharashtra has left the internet both baffled and amused.
A chunk of a large tunnel or pipe that's supposed to be underground was lying smack in the middle of the road, blocking traffic, but that didn’t stop some daring bikers from riding through it like it was an obstacle course.
The clip, shared on Instagram, shows the makeshift tunnel segment sitting on the asphalt as two-wheeler vehicles go through it.
The video went viral, amassing over 5 lakh likes and 15 million views.
The user who posted the clip later shared a safety advisory, warning others not to imitate the stunt, but the internet had already had its fun.
Comments ranged from admiration to outright laughter: “India is already living in 2050,” wrote one.
Another quipped, “Indian hyperloop.” A third added, “Budget tunnel experience.”
Some even got philosophical: “Ek raasta band hota hai, toh dusra khulta hai (When one door closes, another opens)”.
In a country where roads are often unpredictable, this viral video proves that sometimes the obstacles are just invitations for creativity… or chaos, depending on how you look at it.
Universally Bollywood
Who knew Indians could make anyone on earth groove to Bollywood.
Bollywood has proven time and again, it is not just entertainment. It is foreign policy, public outreach and all in one beat.
The scene unfolded at a fuel station in Rajasthan, where a tractor driver turned up the volume on the 90s classic, ‘Chunari Chunari’.
The video, shared by ‘explore_with_bali’ and already crossing 4.2 million views, shows the foreign tourists vibing like they were born with the Bollywood gene.
The tractor driver, now the unintentional DJ stands by, unaware that he has just choreographed an Indo-global cultural exchange programme.
Social media reacted as India reacts to everything: loaded with emotions.
“I don’t know why I am laughing so much at these people. Love it,” one confessed.
Then came the reflective one: “They are living their lives and we are just passing our lives.”
(Translation: “Hum bas chal rahe hain, ye log jee rahe hain.”)
“Life enjoy karna ise kehte hai… dukh-sukh to aate-jaate rahenge.”
(This is what enjoying life looks like… sorrow and joy will keep coming.)
Himachal man’s life takes Ekta Kapoor twist
If this story doesn’t scream of Mihir from Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi, we don’t know what does.
Rikhi Ram, a resident of Nadi village in Himachal Pradesh, disappeared at 16, had an accident, lost all memory of his family, and vanished into the world for 45 years — only to have his memories return after yet another accident.
Cue dramatic music and slow-motion village reunions.
Back in 1980, Rikhi Ram left home to work in Yamunanagar, Haryana, only to meet with a severe road accident.
The head injury erased his past, and he was renamed “Ravi Chaudhary” by a kind-hearted co-worker.
He settled in Mumbai and later Nanded where he worked at a college, married Santoshi, and had three children, oblivious to his roots.
Decades later, destiny hit him with a second accident, which triggered flashes of mango trees, village swings, and hill paths from his childhood.
Like a plot straight out of an Ekta Kapoor melodrama, he shared these visions with his wife, roped in a college student to dig up old connections, and eventually traced his way back to Nadi village.
After multiple calls and repeated insistence, his family confirmed it was indeed him.
The village is now celebrating his return as if a long-lost hero has come back from exile.
For Rikhi Ram, it’s a story of two lives, one forgotten and one lived, now colliding in a perfect soap-opera twist worthy of any prime-time drama.
Sometimes life really does imitate Hindi TV.
Bullets meet bass drops
In a twist of crime and punishment, villagers in Sivasagar’s Dhayli village in Assam decided more than locks and ladders, two caught thieves needed a dance floor.
The pair, nabbed for stealing, were made to boogie non-stop for two hours to a track by popular singer Zubeen Garg, while the crowd looked on, phones out.
Once the performance ended, the punishment party was followed by tea and biscuits, because every spectacle needs snacks. Then and only then were the men handed over to the police.
On social media, the scene was labelled everything from “mass choreography with a side of justice” to “crime drama meets community theatre”. One user joked that the thieves might request royalties next time.
The lesson? If you’re in Assam and get caught thieving, better hope the playlist isn’t depend-on-your-feet. Otherwise you’ll be dancing to Zubeen until your joints ache.
Cowflix & Chill: Tihar inmates moo-tivated by new therapy
In a bold bid to make “doing time” sound a little more pastoral, Tihar Jail has introduced cow therapy — yes, you read that right.
Lonely inmates now get to hang out with Sahiwal cows in a gaushala inside jail. The plan? Stroke an udder, soothe your soul, and maybe even earn a few rupees by producing ghee or puja stuff.
Because nothing says “rehabilitation” quite like bonding with a cow while serving a sentence. The jail administration argues it’s a “ray of hope” for prisoners who never get visitors. Plus, Tihar is doubling down on the reform vibe — combining the cow shed with a digital bakery where inmates bake goods and sell them online.
So if you ever thought prison life was all bars and despair, welcome to Tihar’s fun new version of Cowflix & Chill.
Glue instead of stitches?
In Meerut, a private hospital’s treatment method has sparked outrage and disbelief after a toddler’s bleeding head wound was allegedly sealed with a ₹5 tube of instant adhesive — instead of proper medical stitches. The family alleges the doctor handed them a tube of Fevikwik, applied it to the cut, and sent them home, only for the child to be rushed the next day to another hospital where three hours were spent removing the hardened glue before four actual stitches were placed.
Now the local health authorities are investigating the incident, and a probe committee has been formed.
In the saga of "only in India" medical moments, this one edges into the absurd — because when your cut gets sealed with hardware store adhesive instead of healthcare protocol, it’s no longer treatment. It’s therapy for headlines.
Janta darshan turns into live bribery podcast
At the Morena Municipal Corporation’s Janta Darshan on November 11, no one expected entertainment. Patrons usually come for grievances, not plot twists.
On November 11, the crowd got a full-blown bribery unboxing video, performed live, on speakerphone.
Pankaj, tired of running from counter to counter trying to get his building permission processed, walked in looking like a man who had said “bas ab ho gaya” one too many times.
He told mayor Sharda Solanki that a broker had been demanding money in the name of municipal officers. Nothing unusual there, but Rathore had a plan and he went full reality-TV mode.
He took out his phone, dialled the alleged middleman, put it on speaker, and waited. What followed could have been a stand-up bit if it weren’t so brazen.
The man on the phone immediately began listing prices like he was announcing a Flipkart sale: Rs 10,000 for Sharma EE, Rs 4,000 for “someone with a photo”, Rs 1,000 for Ajay Parihar and Rs 3,000 for himself. Total? Between Rs 15,000 and Rs 18,000.
In the now-viral video, Rathore can be heard asking, “My slip has been issued, what should I do now?” The man replies, “Send the file in PDF and pay the money over the phone.”
Solanki reached out to Municipal Commissioner Satyendra Dhakre.
Dhakre later confirmed he had heard the recording. “Show-cause notices have been issued to the employees and officers whose names have surfaced,” he said. “Action will follow after their responses.”
He added that the call might have been with an agent. “The complainant talked to one of his agents. We are also probing on what basis the agent was making such allegations. There is no need to visit the Municipal Corporation. One applies through an architect, the fee is generated online, and the permission is issued digitally. As of the date of the complaint, no online application from him was found.”
He concluded by calling the complaint “beyond comprehension” but assured that a full investigation would follow.
Birbhum creators’ meet-up turns into hungama
What was supposed to be a friendly meet-up for social media creators in Bengal's Birbhum turned into something closer to a reels-style battle royale at Hatjanbazar in Suri.
The idea was simple: get creators from Birbhum, Murshidabad, East Burdwan and nearby districts under one roof, let them meet “offline,” take photos, shake hands, maybe share biryani.
Instead, the content creators started fighting for the medals and biryani packets and created chaos. Local resident Abdul said he was just passing by and ended up watching the drama like a free street performance.
Suraj Miah, the organiser, insisted things got out of hand because of a handful of creators.
“We organised this event thinking about the welfare of the content creators. But we did not expect this to happen,” he said.
According to him, “more food and medals were kept than necessary. However, several creators created this chaotic situation.”
The star attraction was none other than Kachha Badam fame Bhuvan Badyakar, invited as the chief guest. But even he looked frustrated as the scene went from meet-up to “bhai yeh kya ho raha hai?” in minutes.
He later said, “The organisers' management was not right. More volunteers were needed there. I didn't even get a cup of tea. I saw everyone was grabbing food and medals.”
This was the first such event in Birbhum, and if the chaos is anything to go by, maybe the last for a while.
Swipe right, get ROI
In today’s dating-app jungle, most people hope for chemistry, connection, maybe even commitment. But one Ahmedabad man, copywriter Umang Rana, unlocked a fourth level: corporate collaboration.
What began as a right swipe soon transformed into a bizarre crossover episode between Shaadi.com, Naukri.com, and a family-run marketing agency.
Umang shared his now-viral adventure on LinkedIn. Everything was perfectly ordinary at first. As he put it: “So I matched with someone on Bumble. Normal match, normal chat, normal ‘where are you from’ energy. We talked for a day.”
But then destiny dialled his number.
The next morning, his phone rang — not with a flirty “good morning” text, but a full-blown motherly business pitch. “Next morning, her MOM calls me. Yes. Her mother.”
Before Umang could even process the family intrusion, the woman got straight to work: “Beta, I heard you do writing and marketing humare office ka page sambhal loge?”
She doubled down with the now-iconic line: “Beta, you seem sincere and unmarried, we can negotiate both things.”
At this point, Umang says he genuinely didn’t know whether he was on a date, sitting for a job interview, or accidentally attending his own roka ceremony.
As he joked: “I didn’t know whether this was a job interview, a marriage proposal, or a brand partnership.”
Just as his brain tried to reboot, the daughter texted him: “Sorry, my mom is extra. Ignore her.”
But “extra” was an understatement. The mother returned — armed with budgeting questions: “Beta, do you take advance payment?”
Umang’s own mother entered the chat, looked at the caller ID, and gave him the world’s most Indian-mom advice: “Talk nicely. Could be a good client.”
At this point, Umang reached philosophical levels of confusion: “Now I don’t know who I’m dating. The daughter? The mother? Or the brand?”
In a later update that would make even product managers proud, he announced: “Guys, just to update you all, I got the client and date.”
Naturally, netizens turned the saga into a meme festival.
One person marvelled at the efficiency: “First time in history: Aunty skipped ‘What are your plans with my daughter?’ and went straight to ‘What are your deliverables this quarter?’”
Others applauded the two-in-one achievement: “ek teer se do nishane (One stone two birds).”
One user rebranded the entire episode: “Ye rishta kya kehlata hai - marketing version.”
Some roasted LinkedIn outright: “So Tinder, Bumble is doing what LinkedIn couldn't do? What a time to be alive.”
