Pooja Pillai is an entertainment journalist with Asian Media Group, where she covers cinema, pop culture, internet trends, and the politics of representation. Her work spans interviews, cultural features, and social commentary across digital platforms.
She began her reporting career as a news anchor, scripting and presenting stories for a regional newsroom. With a background in journalism and media studies, she has since built a body of work exploring how entertainment intersects with social and cultural shifts, particularly through a South Indian lens.
She brings both newsroom rigour and narrative curiosity to her work, and believes the best stories don’t just inform — they reveal what we didn’t know we needed to hear.
For someone who has always craved fast-paced crime shows, I never thought I’d care about a hospital drama. The scrubs, the medical jargon, the beeping monitors, it all felt distant, clinical. But life breaks you open when you least expect it. I started Grey’s Anatomy on a night when my own grief was too loud. I needed noise to fill the silence. Then Meredith Grey’s voice cut through:
“So, do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More compassionate? Decide.
For two decades, Grey’s Anatomy has been a companion, holding our hands through heartbreak, making us believe in love that felt like destiny, and shattering us with losses so brutal we screamed at our screens. It taught us that even the strongest people fall apart and maybe that’s okay. And when Meredith Grey said, "I'm all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke. You don't get to call me a whore"— that line broke screens and became the ultimate breakup quote for generations to come.
It was about surviving when you don’t know how. Watching Meredith navigate loss, Cristina chase her dreams without apology, and the characters love, fight, and break, in between all of it, we all felt seen. And let’s be honest, no matter how bad your day is, Meredith’s is worse. Small comfort.
If Grey’s Anatomy wrecked your expectations of love, welcome to the club.
The love stories that defined Grey’s Anatomy
This show gave us some of the most iconic love stories in television. Derek and Meredith’s elevator confessions, the post-it vows, the way he looked at her like she was the only person alive. Then, in true Shonda Rhimes fashion, she broke us.
But honestly, how do you settle for ordinary love after Derek Shepherd saying, "I don't want 48 uninterrupted hours. I want a lifetime." Or Jackson Avery stopping April’s wedding with that speech? Or Derek filling an elevator with case files instead of roses because he knew Meredith would understand?
1. Meredith & Derek
From "I’m just a girl in a bar" to "I wanna die when I’m 110 in your arms" to the post-it vows, their love was the show’s tectonic plate, shifting everything around it. The elevator confessions, the Alzheimer’s trial betrayal, the way they fought like hell and loved harder even in the afterlife.
No couple burned hotter or more destructively. Their passion was a trauma bond wrapped in scrubs, the abortion storyline, the choking, the way they kept orbiting each other like collapsing stars.
TV’s first major lesbian surgical power couple gave us the leg amputation fight, the custody battle, and the brutal reality that love isn’t enough without trust.
The virgin and the playboy turned star-crossed believers. Their Montana shooting trip, the pregnancy loss, and Jackson’s wedding interruption remain unmatched romantic drama.
From Denny’s ghost sex to the cancer storyline to that batshit exit is proof that first loves never really die, they just send you letters years later.
The fake marriage that became heartbreakingly real only for him to die on her operating table. A masterclass in tragic romance. True Shonda Rhimes style.
Deaths that destroyed us
1. George O’Malley (Season 5)
The kindest intern, the quiet hero. His death was a gut punch no one saw coming, saving a stranger’s life, only to become a John Doe himself. That moment when Meredith realised it was him from the faint "007" traced on her hand? Soul-crushing.
Crushed beneath plane wreckage, bleeding out in the wilderness, her final words were a trembling confession of love to Mark. Too much for our hearts to handle.
He survived the crash but not the grief. His final words—"She’s my person"—before slipping away? A knife to the heart. McSteamy was a green flag after all!
McDreamy’s death wasn’t just tragic but majorly infuriating. After saving lives, he was failed by the very system he worked in. The slow-motion horror of Meredith realising he was brain-dead? Unforgettable.
1. "Pick Me, Choose Me, Love Me" (Season 2) – The moment Meredith dropped her walls and begged Derek to stay. Raw, messy, and painfully real—it was the first time she truly laid her heart bare, flaws and all. That shaky vulnerability in her voice as she pleaded in the elevator? We felt every word like a punch to the chest.
Pick Me Choose Me | Grey's Anatomy | Hulu
...And the rest is history. 🥹
Now Streaming: All seasons of #GreysAnatomy
2. The Hospital Shooting (Season 6) – One of TV’s most harrowing episodes. Cristina operating on Derek at gunpoint, Bailey holding a dying intern’s hand. Pure, unfiltered trauma. The sound of gunfire echoing through the halls, the way time seemed to stop—it wasn’t just an episode, it was an experience.
3. The Plane Crash (Season 8) – The moment the show shifted from dramatic to devastating. Lexie’s whispered "I love you" as she faded, Mark’s helpless sobs—it was the beginning of the end for the original Grey’s magic. The aftermath, with Cristina’s haunted stare and Arizona’s leg? A wound that never fully healed.
4. Cristina’s Farewell (Season 10) – "He’s very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are." Perfection. That final dance to The Walker, the way she hugged Meredith like she was memorising her. It wasn’t just a goodbye to Cristina, it was the end of an era.
5.Derek’s Flatline (Season 11) – Rage-inducing. Heart-breaking. Watching him slip away because of a hospital’s negligence, while Meredith’s world crumbled around her? Unforgivable. That slow-motion montage of their love story as the monitor flatlined? The show’s cruellest twist.
April’s crisis of faith after Samuel’s death (S11)
Richard’s relapse (S12)
Twenty years later, we’re still here
Maybe Grey’s isn’t the same. Maybe we miss the OG interns, the early seasons, the magic that’s faded. But we still tune in. We still cry when Chasing Cars plays. We still whisper, "You’re my person."
It’s the reason we expect love to feel like an elevator confession. It’s why we dance it out when life gets heavy. It’s how we learnt the carousel never stops turning, love doesn’t always win, and the people you love don’t always stay.
Twenty years later, we’re still here. Because somehow, we still need it.
British-Bangladeshi prop maker Anika Chowdhury has designed a handcrafted glow-in-the-dark chess set celebrating heritage and identity.
The limited-edition set, called Glowborne, launches on Kickstarter in October.
Each piece draws from South Asian, Middle Eastern, and African cultural references, re-rooting chess in its origins.
The project blends art, storytelling, and representation, aiming to spark conversations about identity in play.
Reimagining chess through heritage
When Anika Chowdhury sat down to sculpt her first chess piece, she had a bigger vision than simply redesigning a classic game. A British-Bangladeshi prop maker working in the film industry, she grew up loving fantasy and games but rarely saw faces like hers in Western storytelling.
“Chess originated in India, travelled through Arabia and North Africa, and was later Westernised,” she explains. “I wanted to bring those forgotten origins back to the board.”
The result is Glowborne — a limited-edition, glow-in-the-dark fantasy chess set that blends craft, identity and cultural pride.
Anika Chowdhury says she has many ideas to further fuse craft and culture in future projects Glowborne
Crafting Glowborne
Each character in the set has been carefully designed to reflect cultural narratives: Bengali kings and pawns, Indian bishops with bindis, Arab knights, and African queens. Chowdhury sculpted each piece by hand, drawing on her prop-making training at the National Film and Television School.
Once sculpted, the pieces were cast in resin, painted, and finished with South Asian-inspired motifs filled with glow-in-the-dark pigment. “The characters glow both literally and metaphorically,” she says, “as a chance for them to take the stage.”
Cultural pride and visibility
For Chowdhury, the project is about more than gameplay. “Fantasy doesn’t need to fit into the Western mould to tell a great story,” she says. “South Asian, Middle Eastern and African stories are just as powerful, and they can transform something as traditional as chess by reconnecting it with its roots.”
She hopes Glowborne will resonate with South Asian and Eastern African communities as a celebration of identity and belonging. At the same time, she sees it as a bridge for wider audiences — chess enthusiasts, collectors, and design lovers who appreciate craftsmanship and storytelling.
A personal journey
Chowdhury’s career in film and prop-making has influenced her creative process, but Glowborne marks her first independent project. She created it outside her film work, after hours and on weekends.
“At 28, I finally feel like I’ve found my voice,” she reflects. “For a long time I felt pressure to hide my identity, but now I see my culture as a superpower. This project is about using art to express that.”
Looking ahead
Launching this October on Kickstarter as a collector’s edition, Glowborne is only the beginning. Chowdhury says she has many ideas to further fuse craft and culture in future projects. “This is the proof of concept,” she says. “I can’t wait to create more stories that blend heritage, art and play.”
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The piece was originally one of nine works that appeared across London in August 2024
Banksy’s ‘Piranhas’ artwork, painted on a police sentry box, is being stored ahead of display at London Museum.
The piece was originally one of nine works that appeared across London in August 2024.
It will form part of the museum’s new Smithfield site, opening in 2026.
The City of London Corporation donated the artwork as part of its £222m museum relocation project.
Banksy’s police box artwork in storage
A Banksy artwork known as Piranhas has been placed in storage ahead of its future display at the London Museum’s new Smithfield site, scheduled to open in 2026. The piece features spray-painted piranha fish covering the windows of a police sentry box, giving the illusion of an aquarium.
From Ludgate Hill to Guildhall Yard
The police box, which had stood at Ludgate Hill since the 1990s, was swiftly removed by the City of London Corporation after Banksy confirmed authorship. It was initially displayed at Guildhall Yard, where visitors could view it from behind safety barriers. The Corporation has since voted to donate the piece to the London Museum.
Museum’s first contemporary street art
London Museum’s Head of Curatorial, Glyn Davies, said:
“With the arrival of Banksy’s Piranhas, our collection now spans from Roman graffiti to our first piece of contemporary street art. This work by one of the world’s most iconic artists now belongs to Londoners, and will keep making waves when it goes on show next year in the Museum’s new Smithfield home.”
Formerly known as the Museum of London, the institution closed its London Wall site in December 2022 as part of its relocation. It rebranded as the London Museum in July 2024, with £222m allocated by the City of London Corporation to support the move. The project is expected to attract two million visitors annually and create more than 1,500 jobs.
Part of Banksy’s animal-themed series
Piranhas was one of nine animal-themed works Banksy created across London in August 2024. The series also featured a rhino on a car, two elephants with interlocked trunks, monkeys swinging from a bridge, a howling wolf on a satellite dish, and a goat painted on a wall. Some of the artworks were later vandalised, removed, or covered up.
Preserving street art for the public
Chris Hayward, policy chairman of the City of London Corporation, said:
“Banksy stopped Londoners in their tracks when this piece appeared in the Square Mile – and now, we’re making it available to millions. By securing it for London Museum, we’re not only protecting a unique slice of the City’s story, but also adding an artwork that will become one of the museum’s star attractions.”
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The group have introduced fresh orchestral elements and added instruments to expand their live sound
The Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group return to the UK with a nationwide tour after viral success online.
The ensemble of brothers blend centuries-old qawwali traditions with fresh improvisations that connect with young audiences.
From Pakistan to the USA and UK, their performances have won acclaim for their electrifying energy and spiritual depth.
Fans can expect new instruments, reimagined classics, and the same message of love and harmony at this year’s shows.
From viral sensation to global stages
When a performance goes viral, it can change an artist’s career overnight. For the Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group, their stirring renditions of Bhar Do Jholi and B Kafara propelled them from local fame in Pakistan to global recognition, amassing millions of views across platforms. What set them apart was not just the power of their voices, but the way their music resonated with younger listeners who were hearing qawwali with fresh ears.
That viral momentum soon carried them beyond borders, leading to major performances in the United States and the UK. “It wasn’t just one track,” the group explained. “We revived older gems like Kali Kali Zulfon and Dil Pukare Aaja in our own style, and those went viral again, showing that qawwali still speaks across generations.”
Heritage, family and style
The Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group’s uniqueness lies in their roots. Composed of seven brothers and joined by fellow musicians from respected musical families, the ensemble was trained by their late father, himself a master of the art form. On stage, as many as 15 to 20 performers create a sound that is both deeply traditional and daringly modern.
Their shows are alive with improvisation. In the middle of a devotional track, harmonium player Shahbaz might suddenly weave in a melody from a contemporary Bollywood hit, while lead vocalist Fayyaz channels his energy into unrestrained movements and audience interaction. “When different styles meet, something new emerges,” they said. “That’s what keeps the music vibrant.”
UK audiences and the international journey
Having performed across the USA, the Middle East and Europe, the group describe UK audiences as particularly electric. “Each time we perform here, the atmosphere is charged. People don’t just listen – they become part of the performance,” they said.
Their repertoire often draws requests from fans who expect to hear viral favourites alongside traditional classics. “Sometimes, if organisers don’t allow us to perform songs like B Kafara or Dil Pukare Aaja, the audience won’t let the show continue. That’s the level of passion here,” they recalled with a laugh.
Keeping qawwali alive for new generations
While the roots of qawwali stretch back centuries, the group see their role as carrying the tradition into the present. By fusing tabla, harmonium and handclaps with newer instruments and arrangements, they appeal to younger listeners without losing the music’s essence.
“We want every audience to feel peace, harmony and love when they leave our concerts,” they said. “An artist should never belong to just one group of people – music is for everyone.”
What fans can expect this tour
This year’s UK tour promises new surprises. The group have introduced fresh orchestral elements and added instruments to expand their live sound. Fans can expect a mix of beloved classics, spontaneous improvisations, and the chance to hear qawwali reimagined for today’s world.
For Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group, the mission remains unchanged: to honour their heritage, embrace new audiences, and spread the universal message at the heart of their art. As they put it: “We look forward to growing together with our fans. Let’s celebrate qawwali as a tradition that belongs to everyone.”
This Navratri, the traditional rhythms of Garba are being paired with the timeless melodies of British folk in a new musical fusion that promises to bring fresh energy to the festival.
The piece blends the iconic Gujarati folk song Kon Halave Limdi Ne Kon Halave Pipdi with the classic English–Celtic ballad Scarborough Fair. It is performed as a duet by Gujarati folk singer Kashyap Dave and Western classical vocalist Vanya Bhatt, a graduate of Christ University, Bengaluru.
Rooted in Surat, Gujarat—the city where the British East India Company established its first factory in 1612—the collaboration connects two cultures centuries apart, showing how music can transcend time and geography.
“For me, Kon Halave Limdi captures the joy and energy of Garba,” said Vanya. “Pairing it with Scarborough Fair created a harmony that feels both new and familiar, perfect for global Navratri celebrations.”
Music producer Jimmy Desai called it “a rare and exciting blend.” He added: “It’s not often you hear operatic vocals flowing seamlessly over Garba rhythms. We wanted to preserve the essence of both traditions while making the music festive and universal.”
The English ballad, originally romantic, has been reworked with lyrics highlighting the camaraderie, joy and togetherness central to Navratri.
“The Gujarati melody instantly evokes community spirit,” said Kashyap. “Combining it with a British classic gives it cross-cultural appeal, making it suitable for celebrations anywhere in the world.”
The fusion, the team said, is more than just a song: it is a celebration of heritage, a bridge between East and West, and a musical thread tying hearts together during the festival of dance, devotion and community.
Woodcut prints that explore the fragile threshold between body, time, and transcendence
Inspired by Baul mystics like Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim, as well as sculptural forms from Michelangelo to Rodin
Figures emerge from black holes and womb-like voids — trapped in time yet reaching for freedom
A visual dialogue between flesh and spirit, rootedness and flight
A bold continuation of South Asian metaphysical traditions in contemporary form
Paradox becomes the path: muscular bodies dream of escape through light, memory, and love
Expressionist in tone, haunting in imagery — a theatre of becoming
I imagine Tarek Amin (Ruhul Amin Tarek) has a singular vision as his hands work on his craft, his measuring eyes, the membranes of his fingers. They are mostly woodcut prints on the threshold of becoming, from darkened holes. A human figure dangling in space, yet not without gravitational pull, the backwards tilt of the head is like a modern-day high jumper in the fall position, the muscles and ribcage straining to keep the body's mass afloat. A clock is ticking away in the background of a darkened rectangle. Is it the black hole, the womb, or the nothingness from which the first murmurings of being, its tentative emergence into light, can be heard?
A clock is ticking away in the background of a darkened rectangleManzu Islam
This one is in the darkened inside of a clock, as if in the womb of time, but not quite trapped in the savage tick-tock of the metronome, for the body in its stylised repose is already stirring to take flight. Why else would the face turn away from the body in its sideways position and look beyond the dark hole, beyond the frame of time?
Even the figure deep in sleep in the primal bed of the darkened womb is not as lost to time as it first appears. The legs have already wriggled their way beyond the frame. Besides, the folds of the garment covering the lower body are billowing in the wind, as if responding to the summons of the beyond to take flight into the infinite. They are all over, these black holes that imprison even a tiny flicker of light. Staged almost as an expressionist theatre reminiscent of Ludwig Kirchner et al and the Bridge Group’s woodcut prints where dark areas, looming large, provide abodes for the likes of Nosferatu or the sinister zones of danger in a Hitchcock film, but always pointing to the lighted outside, the avenue of escape, even transcendence, as Tarek Amin tends to think.
Often bathed in metamorphic ochre and orange, these figures inspired by Bengal’s deep-rooted philosophers and mystical poets, such as Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim, are swept along by their melodies of love and dread, which, despite being authorised in the name of an ineffable stranger, never fail to touch the very membrane of the soul. Perhaps that’s why Tarek Amin calls this series of artwork Echoes of Existence.
The body in its stylised repose is already stirring to take flightManzu Islam
In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Narcissus, trapped in the mirroring surface of the water, stays deaf to Echo’s lovelorn calls. From Tarek Amin’s canvases, the echoes resolute not to take no for an answer insist on being heard, even though they speak in whispers.
What do these echoes speak of? Mostly of bodies, sinuous bodies toned and chiselled like Yukio Mishima’s, destined for a metaphysical journey. These journeys are fraught with dangers, as Mishima’s have been, imploding in a manic misadventure. Tarek Amin’s bodies, taken at once from the body-centred metaphysics of the Bauls (of which Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim are preeminent figures), and from the long lines of sculptures from Michelangelo to Rodin and beyond.
Auguste Rodin looked at Michelangelo, who spurred him on his creative journey. But the Frenchman, being a workman and given to the sheer materiality of objects, the thingness of things which prompted Rilke to his poetic exploration of Dinggedicht (thing-poem), gave his figures ample volume, substance, and the rough edges of their emergence. Rodin’s bodies, weighed down by their dense matter, are rooted in places. They are too heavy to take flight. Analogous to Rodin, although working in a different medium, is the work of Bangladeshi painter SM Sultan. His embodied figures, mainly peasants bulging with muscle, know only work. Labouring in the fields, their muscles protruding all over their anatomy, creating fleshy mountains and slopes that even the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn’t dream of in their wildest imagination, is too heavy. They seem more likely to sink under their own weight than take flight. If there is an escape route for them, it is by digging deep, like Kafka’s moles.
Sure, bodies are houses of being, but some bodies are bent on dragging their being elsewhere. This, I sense, is the case in Tarek Amin’s work. Muscular bodies, bound by the sheer force of their materiality, and yet they want to fly elsewhere, it doesn’t matter how one names it: beloved, divine, or even God (Lalon imagines him as a strange neighbour in a hall of mirrors so close and yet aeons away). It seems we’ve ended up with a paradox. Rooted in bodies and yet looking for lines of flight. Imprisoned by the clock and yet wishing to melt it away as Salvador Dalí so theatrically wanted, or as Henri Bergson so patiently waited to experience his durée, as the cubes of sugar dissolved in water, which sent young Marcel Proust wild with excitement, thinking he had found the key to retrieving lost time.
Yet paradox is not a negative force. In carnival, particularly in the Caribbean one sees some figures in their limbo dancing, lowering themselves to almost ground level to pass the bar, while others elongate themselves on stilts to touch the sky. The high and the low, all at the same time, is the force that disrupts the habitual orders of things. It unleashes the forces of creation.
Tarek Amin’s bodies, then rooted in their flesh and chiselled muscles, and in dreams of escape with the melodies of Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim are the figures of freedom. It will be a bumpy ride, but I wish them well.
Exhibition Title:Echoes of Existence
Artist: Tarek Amin Date: 20–27 June 2025 Venue: Spitalfields Studios, London E1
Manzu Islam is a British-Bangladeshi writer and academic, author of The Mapmakers of Spitalfields, Burrow, and Godzilla and the Song Bird. His fiction explores migration, racism, and cultural identity through vivid storytelling rooted in postcolonial experiences.