Twinkle Khanna has mixed food, history and her trademark humour in a joke that has landed in the middle of India's continuing debate over how the Mughals are taught in school. In her new Mrs Funnybones piece, dated August 30, she leaned into satire. She mentioned Maharashtra FDA Commissioner Tukaram Mundhe and his food-safety checks. 

She then joked that she once found a very old packet of Shahi Masala in her kitchen. In her words, it had gone past its date “around the same time as the Mughal Empire”.The joke then took an unexpected turn towards history books, with Khanna saying that those who want the Mughals erased from history should first start with their lunch.  

What did Twinkle Khanna exactly say?

Khanna, in her new Mrs Funnybones piece, wrote that anyone pushing to “erase the Mughals from our history books” should start with lunch. She said they should give up koftas, kormas, and kebabs. She also brought up Mughlai paneer. Her point was that people cannot really enjoy it and still try to remove the Mughals’ mark from history.  

She framed the whole thing as jokes, not as a serious fact claim. The line was part of a bigger funny column about food-safety raids. It should not be read as saying those dishes were only “invented by the Mughals”.

Her column read: "In the good old days, when I went to melas rather than acting in one, buddhi ke baal used to be a fluorescent pink. Now, it is the colour of my roots between touch-ups, finally living up to its name. The disappearance of pink dye is due to FDA commissioner Tukaram Mundhe. Hundreds of restaurants have fallen like dominoes in his wake, including Domino’s. Where Mundhe goes, mundis roll." 

"Inspired by Mr Mundhe, I conduct a raid on my kitchen. I find a packet of Shahi Masala that expired around the same time as the Mughal Empire. Those who want to erase the Mughals from our history books should first start with lunch. Give up your koftas, kormas, kebabs. You can’t have your Mughlai paneer, real or analogue, and eat it too," she said.

Why did Twinkle Khanna mention history books in a food safety column?

The bit about Mughal history caught attention. People in India have argued about how it should show up in school lessons. In 2023, NCERT adjusted parts of the school syllabus.

In 2023, NCERT removed the Class 12 history chapter Kings and Chronicles: The Mughal Courts during its textbook rationalisation exercise. The chapter dealt with Mughal court culture, administration and historical sources, including texts such as the Akbarnama and Badshah Nama. 

The change led to debate over how Mughal history should be represented in school education. However, saying that “Mughal history was removed from NCERT books” is too broad. The treatment of the subject has varied across classes and has changed again with the introduction of new textbooks under the National Curriculum Framework for School Education 2023. 

NCERT has since introduced new textbooks for Classes 6 to 8 from the 2025–26 academic session under the NCF-SE 2023 and NEP 2020. The Ministry of Education has said the older Class 6–8 textbooks affected by the earlier rationalisation exercise are no longer in use. Students should therefore check the latest textbook and syllabus for their class rather than rely on older reports about what was removed. 

What connection Mughal history has to Indian food?

This is where Khanna's joke connects history with something students experience every day. One of the many ways cultures influence each other is through food. Indian food has never been a one-dynasty, one-community creation, and many aspects of Mughal-period history – court culture, architecture, art, literature, and cuisine – are connected.

Many of the dishes that are considered Mughlai today have evolved and been influenced by various factors. Food culture was also exported from the royal kitchen to the community and to various parts of the country. Recipes were modified based on local foods and preferences.

Hence, students need to be careful in turning Khanna's joke into a history fact. She was joking about the contradiction between wanting Mughal influence removed from history and continuing to enjoy foods associated with Mughlai cuisine. It was not a history lesson, but a satirical argument. And that is exactly what became a debatable topic and went viral. 

Twinkle Khanna's joke goes beyond paneer

Khanna's column was mainly about food-safety inspections, not an academic discussion about Mughal history. She also wrote about making paneer at home with her mother, Dimple Kapadia, amid concerns around fake or analogue paneer, and continued the humour around Mundhe's inspections.

Her history-books line, however, has been catching a great deal of attention because of a question that goes beyond food: Can a society separate historical influence from its everyday culture?

But the answer is not as simple as a joke. History can be studied critically without glorifying the period. Simultaneously, not everything in the textbook is removed from the cultural field once it is dropped from one textbook.

To students, the one thing that might be most valuable is one they've heard before: read history with proof, understand the context and don't take a viral quote as a textbook fact. Khanna's line may have started with a packet of expired masala, but it has opened another conversation about how India remembers its past, and how that past continues to appear in everyday life, right down to what is served at lunch.

A 29-year-old woman in Panchkula has alleged that her husband was falsely presented to her family as a BA graduate and teetotaller before their marriage, while she later discovered that he had studied only up to Class 5.

The woman, a BSc Nursing graduate, made the allegations in a complaint filed at Pinjore police station on August 22. A case has been registered against her husband, his sister and an alleged marriage mediator under Sections 85 and 316(2) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS).

Family allegedly spent over Rs 40 lakh on wedding

According to the complaint, the woman's family was told before the marriage that the accused was a BA graduate, did not consume alcohol and belonged to a respectable family.

She married the accused in September 2025. The complainant alleged that she later discovered that her husband's educational qualification had been misrepresented and that he had studied only up to Class 5.

She claimed her family spent around Rs 40 lakh on the wedding, apart from another Rs 5-6 lakh on pre-wedding functions, clothes and cosmetics. She also alleged that gold ornaments, household items and other articles were given at the time of marriage.

Woman alleges harassment after marriage

The complainant further alleged that she was subjected to mistreatment after the marriage. According to her complaint, her husband restricted her movement, ignored her medical needs and allegedly assaulted her physically in May this year.

She also alleged that her husband and his sister retained her dowry articles and jewellery.

Claims husband concealed drug use and relationship

The woman has additionally alleged that her husband concealed a premarital relationship with another woman and was a regular user of intoxicating substances.

According to police, the complaint was examined by the Women Cell following directions from senior officers, after which the case was registered.

The allegations are part of the complaint and will be subject to investigation.

Chandrajeet Singh Rajawat’s chess journey is a story of passion, sacrifice and resilience. From giving up an IIT opportunity at 16 to sleeping on railway platforms and stadiums, he went on to become Rajasthan’s first Arena Grandmaster and build a chess academy with a global presence.

Udaipur, popularly known as the City of Lakes, has long been celebrated for its palaces, lakes and history. But for Chandrajeet Singh Rajawat, the city has another identity — one shaped by the 64 squares of a chessboard.

Today, Rajawat represents Udaipur through chess, mentoring students in India and abroad while also training chess coaches. His journey, however, began with a decision that changed his life: walking away from an IIT opportunity to pursue chess.

From Cricket to Chess at 16

Chess was not Rajawat’s first sporting passion. As a youngster, he played cricket at the district level but eventually moved away from the sport.

While preparing for the IIT entrance examination, he discovered chess almost by accident through a video game. His interest deepened after watching his father play.

Rajawat taught himself the basics and defeated his father the very next day.

His real fascination with competitive chess emerged around 2011-12, when he participated in his first tournament.

“I really fell in love with chess,” he recalled.

Starting competitive chess at around 16, considered relatively late compared with many elite players, Rajawat improved rapidly. After struggling in his first tournament, he began performing better and eventually won one of his early events, emerging as one of Udaipur’s promising chess players.

Parents Wanted Him to Focus on IIT

Rajawat's growing involvement in chess soon worried his parents, particularly because his preparation for the IIT entrance examination was being affected.

He began participating in tournaments secretly. Whenever his photograph appeared in local newspapers after a win, his parents discovered what he had been doing.

The decisive moment came when his IIT entrance results arrived.

Rajawat had secured a rank that could have opened the door to a conventional engineering career. But he had already decided to return to chess.

When it came time to complete his IIT counselling process, he chose not to pursue it.

His parents were deeply upset.

“I was a little obsessive about it,” Rajawat recalled, adding that he was determined to deal with whatever difficulties followed.

Eventually, after repeated disagreements, the teenager left his home with only a few belongings.

Sleeping on Trains and Stadiums

Rajawat travelled to Delhi to pursue chess without a financial safety net.

Even entering his first FIDE-rated tournament proved challenging because of an eligibility dispute with the All India Chess Federation (AICF).

In 2014, he eventually participated in a tournament in Delhi that charged an entry fee of around Rs 3,500 and provided shared accommodation.

Without that arrangement, he said, he did not even have a place to stay.

The years that followed were extremely difficult.

He began representing Rajasthan on the national chess circuit, but money remained scarce. His phone was stolen, and there were occasions when he slept in stadiums, trains and even on the road between tournaments.

“I had money for food, but not much beyond that,” he recalled.

Yet Rajawat never seriously considered returning home.

For him, the hardship was worth enduring because he was doing what he loved — playing chess.

One Tournament Changed His Life

A tournament in Delhi became a major turning point.

After winning several games, Rajawat became overconfident and suffered an unexpected defeat against a lower-rated player. He began questioning whether he should continue.

For a brief moment, he considered returning home.

Instead, he decided to play the remaining rounds.

In the final game, he arrived just 28 minutes into a 30-minute default window. His opponent was a much more experienced Air Force player.

Rajawat had roughly a minute left on his clock while his opponent had about an hour.

With nothing to lose, he fought back and eventually won.

“After that I felt, now I can do anything,” he recalled.

That victory became a psychological turning point in his chess career.

Rajasthan’s First Arena Grandmaster

Rajawat soon became known as a resourceful player capable of winning difficult positions.

He eventually earned the Arena Grandmaster (AGM) title, becoming Rajasthan's first player to achieve the distinction.

His career also brought him across the board against several players who would later become some of the biggest names in Indian chess, including Gukesh, Praggnanandhaa and Nihal Sarin.

He also began defeating FIDE-rated Grandmasters.

From Chess Player to Chess Coach

While competing, Rajawat enrolled in mathematics at Delhi University. However, tournaments, travel and chess eventually took priority.

Around the end of 2015, he began teaching chess informally in Delhi.

What started as a way to earn money gradually developed into a profession. He travelled across the city to coach students and, by 2017-18, began working institutionally, including at the British School.

The initial years of coaching were difficult too. He stayed with friends and eventually rented a room from an uncle on credit.

But slowly, chess coaching became a sustainable career.

Returning to Udaipur and Building a Global Chess Academy

In 2019, Rajawat returned to Rajasthan after becoming concerned about the lack of chess infrastructure in the state.

He established Kingdom of Chess in Udaipur and initially taught as many as 100 students himself.

His students went on to win state and national titles, Commonwealth and Asian gold medals, and a World Championship medal.

But Rajawat soon realised that personally teaching hundreds of children would not be enough.

“I realised I could teach 100 children alone, but never thousands,” he said.

That realisation led him towards a larger mission: training chess coaches who could teach the next generation.

Today, his chess academy has expanded its reach to around 30 countries, combining chess education with opportunities for coaches and tutors.

A Chess Journey Built on Resilience

Rajawat's journey from an aspiring IIT student to a professional chess player, coach and entrepreneur is not simply a story about winning tournaments.

It is about choosing an uncertain path, surviving years without financial security and refusing to abandon a passion even when circumstances made success seem unlikely.

Before leaving home in 2014, Rajawat wrote a poem for his future self.

He wanted to read it someday after achieving something significant.

Years later, his story has become that achievement — a journey that took him from Udaipur to the national chess circuit and eventually onto the global chess education map.

Gujarat’s growing sporting ambitions stand in sharp contrast to its limited presence in the Sports Authority of India (SAI) network. The state has only two SAI centres — both National Centres of Excellence (NCOEs) — and no SAI Training Centre (STC), extension centre, regional school or akhada listed in the national network.

The two NCOEs are located at Gandhinagar and Naranpura. While Gujarat has been working to expand sports participation and develop athletes as it eyes the 2036 Olympic Games, the limited institutional network could pose challenges in creating a wider talent-development pipeline across the state.

In comparison, states such as Rajasthan, Maharashtra, Uttar Pradesh and Haryana have a broader spread of SAI facilities, providing athletes with access to training and support infrastructure across multiple locations.

The infrastructure constraints are also visible at SAI Gandhinagar. According to sources at the centre, only one of the four blocks of the Veer Savarkar Sports Complex has been allotted to SAI. This further limits the space available for SAI’s training and athlete-development activities in the state.

The gap becomes more pronounced when coach strength is compared across major SAI locations. Gandhinagar has 30 SAI coaches, the lowest among the 14 locations for which coach numbers were provided in the Union government’s reply in Parliament.

Sonipat and Patiala have the highest coach strength among these locations, with 87 coaches each. Kolkata follows with 78, while Bengaluru and Delhi have 75 coaches each. Guwahati has 64 coaches and Imphal has 50.

The 30 coaches at Gandhinagar account for only around 4% of the 747 coaches listed across the 14 locations.

The disparity is significant given Gujarat’s efforts to strengthen its sporting ecosystem. The state has promoted mass-participation programmes and athlete-support initiatives aimed at identifying and nurturing sporting talent. However, the relatively small SAI footprint raises questions about the institutional support available to athletes as they move from grassroots participation to advanced training and elite competition.

SAI centres play an important role in providing structured coaching, training facilities and athlete-development opportunities. A wider network can help identify talent beyond major urban centres and provide athletes with more accessible pathways to specialised training.

For Gujarat, the challenge may therefore extend beyond increasing participation. As the state seeks to position itself as a potential host for the 2036 Olympics, expanding the institutional bridge between talent identification, coaching and elite-level preparation could become an important part of its sporting strategy.

The current SAI data highlights a clear gap between Gujarat’s aspirations and its existing national sports infrastructure. Closing that gap could be crucial if the state wants its Olympic ambitions to translate into a stronger and more geographically distributed athlete-development ecosystem.

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Gujarat has only two SAI centres and 30 coaches, highlighting a sports infrastructure gap.

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A song is an entertainment but the meaning it hides within is the literature that fuels revolution. There are songs we hear and forget, and then there are songs that follow us long after the music has stopped. “Gaon Chodab Nahi” meaning  “We Will Not Leave Our Village”,  is one of the latter. The protest song emerged from struggles against displacement and the exploitation of tribal land and forests, and is resonating with a new audience in a time when India is grappling with an increasingly complex development conversation. The words are easy to read, almost insistent on being repeated, but the question under them is not easy: What happens when the cost of development is someone's home?

The song has been associated with Adivasi and anti-displacement movements for decades. It is about communities that are not willing to give up their land, forests, livelihoods and culture for projects that are marketed as progress. The message has spread through people's movements and performances, and now, as clips and recordings spread through social media, it is reaching young Indians who may never have heard the song in its original context. It's important to renew the focus because the generation that shares it is being raised in a nation where the term development is omnipresent, but the effects of development are becoming inescapable.

What is the reason behind the viral success of “Gaon Chodab Nahi”?

The resurgence of “Gaon Chodab Nahi” with the younger generation is not just about finding an old protest song. It's finding an old question at a very contemporary time. Gen Z has been told that development is about bigger cities, more industries, highways, technology, extraction and economic growth. This generation is also experiencing polluted air, disappearing green spaces, stressed rivers, extreme weather and increasing anxiety about what kind of planet will be left for them.

This contradiction adds a new emotional life to the song. The words of a community that refuses to abandon its village can start to feel more like a challenge to the concept of progress than a political slogan. If a forest has to disappear, a community has to relocate and generations of cultural memory have to be broken for a project to be completed, can the project be called successful simply because it produces economic value? The song does not give a technical solution. It does more than that, it makes us ask the question.

The Problem Is Not Development. It is Development Without People.

India needs development. It requires improved roads, industries, electricity, employment, hospitals, technology and infrastructure. It would be neither realistic nor fair to a country with millions of people who still have limited access to opportunity to reject development altogether. However, there is a distinction between opposing development and challenging the nature of development that sees people as a hindrance.

Displacement is more than just a move for communities whose lives are intricately tied to forests and ancestral land. Family history, livelihood, language, rituals, memories and identity can be carried by land. A forest can be a source of food, medicine, work and cultural knowledge. A river can be part of the history of a community. These connections are lost, and compensation can replace a loss of money, but not a loss of belonging.

This is where “Gaon Chodab Nahi” turns into more than a protest song. It gives a human voice to something that official language can make sound strangely harmless. Land acquisition. Rehabilitation. Displacement. Project-affected families. They can be required in policy documents, but they can also make a very personal experience sound administrative. 

What is the meaning of “Gaon Chodab Nahi” for young India?

The most compelling aspect of the song is that young people are not simply consuming it as history.. They are reading it in the light of their own problems. The song starts to take on new significance as soon as it reaches the ears of a new generation that is asking questions about climate change, inequality, sustainability and the costs of endless consumption.

What kind of future are we creating when the people who already inhabit the land have to vanish to make room for it?

Not all mining projects, industrial projects, roads and infrastructure developments are destructive. It implies that development should not be assessed solely on the basis of what has been built at the completion of a project. It should also be evaluated on the impact on people, ecosystems and communities on the journey. A nation is not developed just because it has constructed more. It must also question what it has safeguarded.

Art Starts Doing the Work of a Question

This is where the song's political message is not enough. Statistics can't tell the story as well as art can. A report can tell us the number of families displaced. Rehabilitation can be explained in a policy document. The law can be decided by a court. However, a song can evoke the sense of homelessness.

Hence, protest music has always been important. It makes an issue an experience. It makes something happen to people we may never meet and puts it in our emotional world. One day, land is no longer simply land. A forest is more than a natural resource. A village is more than a place on a map. They turn into places where people lived, where they remember a parent, where they learned a song, where they imagine their children growing up. “Gaon Chodab Nahi” brings that feeling to life.

The Song Is Asking India to Rethink Progress

The most uncomfortable question raised by the song is not whether India should develop. It is whether we have become too ready to say that all construction progress is progress. We celebrate what is built, but seldom ask who paid the price for building it. We measure highways in kilometres, industrial projects in investment and cities in economic output. But what about another measure of development: how much human dignity, ecological balance and community life does it retain?

A better model of development would not force India to opt for growth at the expense of its citizens. It would require more responsible, participatory and sustainable growth. Communities should not be seen as barriers because they reside in the area where a project is being proposed. Opposition to progress is not the same as environmental concerns. Indigenous communities should not be asked to continually demonstrate the value of their relationship with their land.

Why Gen Z Is Sharing an Old Song

It's almost like a poetic journey for an old protest song to pass through the phones of a generation that lives in a different kind of India. The technology is new. It's a new platform. The audience is new. However, the wound that the song speaks of is not new.

That may be why it's seeping into the minds of the young. They are starting to realize that the future they are talking about in classrooms, boardrooms and government offices is their future as well. They will inherit the cities we build, the rivers we save or pollute, the forests we save or destroy, and the social inequalities we face or ignore.

The song thus turns into more than a historical record; it turns into a dialogue between generations. The singers of the song decades ago were asking that they not be erased by development. The youth listening today are asking what kind of development they want to pass on to their own children.

“Gaon Chodab Nahi” Is Not Anti-Development. It Is a Call for Better Development.

This may be the difference India most needs. A report can tell us how many families were displaced. A policy document can explain rehabilitation. A court can determine legal rights. But a song can make us feel what losing home means.. The solution is to grow without destroying as the cost of growth.

That's about building infrastructure without harming ecosystems, developing industries without disregarding communities, providing economic opportunity without accepting displacement as a given, and leveraging technology to enhance human life, not just consumption. It means recognising that a village is not empty land waiting for a project. It already has a life in it.

Maybe that's why the song is so strong today. “Gaon Chodab Nahi” is not just a statement of “We will not leave our village.” It asks, “Why do we have to leave it for progress to take place?”

The Art Is Leading the Call for a Better India

The best thing about art is that it doesn't always tell us what to think. Sometimes, it just won't let us quit thinking. A protest song can outlast governments, projects, campaigns and generations because its emotional truth is not dependent on a specific time.

“Gaon Chodab Nahi” is rediscovering that truth among the young listeners. Maybe they're sharing it because they see something in its words that they don't like. Maybe they are starting to realize that development that undermines the conditions of human life can't be forever celebrated as progress. Maybe they're learning what artists have always learned: that a song can be a weapon of resistance, but it can also be a blueprint for imagination.

India needs that imagination. It requires young people who are not against growth, but against the growth that is too expensive; who are not against change, but against the change that is not good enough; who are not against inheriting the country, but against inheriting the country to leave it behind.

After all, “Gaon Chodab Nahi” is not just a matter of not leaving a village. It's about not wanting to live in a world where someone's house, their culture, their forest or their dignity is traded for another person's development.

Maybe that's why an old song is saying so much these days… because the future is a revolution through entertainment!

A proposed screening of filmmaker Vivek Agnihotri’s ‘The Bengal Files’ at Jadavpur University on August 16 has triggered a fresh controversy on the campus, with left-leaning student organisations opposing the event while the university administration maintains that no final decision has been taken.

The Nationalist Students' Front (NSF), which is organising the proposed screening, said on Thursday that it had obtained permission from the university administration to screen the film at the Triguna Sen Auditorium on Sunday.

However, a university official said the administration was yet to take a decision on the matter.

NSF claims permission for screening

NSF spokesperson Somsurya Banerjee said the university's Film Studies department had indicated that the film could be screened and that the student organisation subsequently received permission from the administration.

“I think it is for the right of students to think, question and decide for themselves,” Banerjee said.

The university authorities have not publicly confirmed the organisation's claim. An official said the administration had received the NSF's request but had not yet taken a final call.

The proposed screening has therefore become a point of contention ahead of the August 16 event.

Left student groups oppose screening

The Students' Federation of India (SFI), affiliated with the CPI(M), and the Revolutionary Students' Federation (RSF) of the CPI(ML) Liberation have raised objections to the proposed screening.

SFI's Jadavpur University local committee secretary Abhinaba Basu said the organisation was not in favour of censorship but urged the university to ensure that the campus atmosphere remained peaceful.

Basu also expressed concern over screening a film that, according to the organisation, carries a narrative that could promote polarisation and division.

RSF's Jadavpur University unit secretary Indranuj Ray separately wrote to the Vice-Chancellor opposing permission for the event.

The organisation argued that such a screening could affect the university's secular and inclusive campus environment.

Film based on 1946 Calcutta violence

‘The Bengal Files’ is centred on the 1946 Great Calcutta Killings, which followed the Muslim League's Direct Action Day call and resulted in widespread communal violence in the city.

The film's proposed screening at Jadavpur University has consequently drawn attention amid competing views over freedom of expression, campus harmony and the portrayal of a highly sensitive period in Bengal's history.

While NSF maintains that students should have the opportunity to watch and assess the film themselves, opposing student groups have urged the administration to consider the potential impact on the campus environment.

For now, the university has confirmed only that it has received the screening request. No final decision on whether the event will be permitted has been officially announced.