May 01, 2026

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Premium

Mandeep, Sidharth, and the Joy and Heartbreak of Love

Since the beginning of time, a `romantic relationship' has been treated as a ceramic object in the showcase of other human emotions. It must be handled with care, and cannot be allowed to crack under human frailties.In contrast to the many lore reaffirming relationships as endless, is the theory of the seven-year itch--that relationships wane after the seven-year mark. Boredom trickles in. Annoyance becomes commonplace, and you wonder: Is this all my life will amount to, a compromise in the shape of the glorious mess standing in front of me? The seven-year itch is often backed by loose statistics and was largely popularised by the 1955 film of the same name.The central question is always the same: How do we make it last? When the Delhi-based couple Sidharth Sarcar, a landscape architect and Mandeep Raikhy, a dance artist, met exactly a decade ago, they were making sense of the world around them. They connected on Tinder. Later, Sidharth attended one of Mandeep's dance pieces, and they met for the first time. A vacation with friends in the backwaters of Keralam followed."Mandeep met me when I was 25, and he was 36. I am now 36, and he is at the same age I was when he'd met me," Sidharth says. "What we have done time and time again in our relationship is to communicate and evolve. Even right now, he is in another room of the same building, and that is annoying me." The relationship has lasted, from Sidharth's perspective, because they have managed to look at not just the proximity between them, "but also the space--having some air, being able to travel without each other and with each other, and live away for long periods of time." MATH OF LONGEVITY Does it all boil down to space? That would be flattening it. I present to them my own relationship, ridden by my anxious-avoidant attachment style. Just when my partner needs me the most, a creeping sense of repulsion from my end settles down in all the voids between us. "What is wrong with you?" is the usual refrain from their end, to which my response is an incoherent babble.Mandeep posits that "You have to give love a chance, and be aware that you cannot get 100 per cent of what you want from the person. You will probably get 60 per cent, and then you milk the other 30 out with time. What we started with in our relationship is very different from what we are now." Space can be a loaded word when it is not broken

Harini Nilakantan Is Ready to Out-Move You

The bass at the Red Bull Dance Your Style event isn't just heard; it's felt in the bones. It is a space of high-octane freestyle, where `ciphers'--an electric circle of dancers --take on the battlefield. And, when 27-year-old Chicagobased Harini Nilakantan stepped into this spotlight, the air palpably shifted, with a familiar pulse of street dance offset by the unmistakable geometric precision of a theermanam (the final, rhythmic concluding phrase of a dance sequence).The video went "nuclear" shortly after the West Qualifier in Las Vegas on March 21, 2026. Seeing a dancer navigate the polyrhythms of house music through Bharatanatyam wasn't just a "fusion" moment; it was a reimagination of how traditional art is consumed on modern platforms. Across a series of four to five videos from the competition, the footage gathered over 30 million views (at the time of going to press) across social media.Nilakantan wasn't wearing standard streetwear; she competed in a Tamil dance practice sari, a visual choice that became the primary catalyst for the video's virality. For Nilakantan, the moment was years in the making. She had previously participated in the 2025 Red Bull season, taking the Chicago City Qualifier title in June before reaching the Top 16 at the Midwest Regional in Kansas City. After being invited back for the 2026 West Qualifier, she was flown out just 24 hours before the battle.PARADOX OF VIRALITY While Nilakantan's journey to the global stage gained momentum in Chennai, her movement was moulded by a life lived between Indianapolis and Chicago. She holds a Master's in Museum and Exhibition Studies, but her technical foundation is lifelong. She began training in Bharatanatyam at a young age and spent nearly two decades evolving within the form.The decision to wear the sari in Vegas was a last-minute call. "I usually wear Patiala pants and a blouse-- something Indo-western," she explains. "I'd packed the sari thinking I'd drape it like pants with a T-shirt, but I didn't want to risk tripping if the folds were loose." Ultimately, she chose the kacche style sari (inspired by a Maharashtrian drape) to showcase a decolonial silhouette--a nod to the practical, historical drape working women in India wore when farming, cooking, and even during combat. By bringing this silhouette into a modern freestyle battle, she bridged the gap between ancient utility and contemporary street culture.Apart from the visual grammar of it all, Nilakantan is aware that the economy of the "scroll," virality is fickle--however, the visibility brought by her viral video has been a "unique cocktail" of reactions. While the love is palpable, the underbelly of digital fame has exposed her to casteist comments and threats."In 2020, everybody was online, and the hate was much worse," she recalls. It has forced her to evolve from a "dancy baby" as a kid into a discerning woman who treats social media with a healthy dose of caution. Today, she is more private, reserved, and deeply protective of her energy. "Social media is a journal of sorts, but I've learned to be a lot more discerning," she admits, adding: "I want to make sure there's a part of me that is entirely for myself, my family, and my friends." Her advice to the next generation of Gen Z dancers? Don't chase the numbers. "If you're nervous, it means you care. Put your work out there, but be honest with your movement. There is a deep history behind every move." RESPECTING ROOTS Beyond the ciphers and the smartphone screens, dance serves a more primal purpose for Nilakantan--it tethers her to reality. When asked about mental health, her response is visceral. "Dance is everything: It's the air I breathe, it's the water I drink...it's my purpose, my best friend, my worst enemy." In a world that demands constant fragmentation, movement is where she finds herself whole. Her philosophy is built on the idea that one must know the rules to break them. She encourages young artists to understand the origins of their craft and pay respect to pioneers before discarding the parts of tradition that no longer serve an "era of progress." For Nilakantan, the goal isn't just to replicate a viral moment. It's to remain a "malleable" vessel, bridging the gap between communities. Whether in a highstakes competition or a quiet studio, she remains a mosaic of cultures: "You are already special if you take that first step and record yourself."