Janardhan Reddy

Janardhan Reddy’s “Lamp” (2025) dives straight into the chaos and comfort of small-town life, where a single lamp becomes, weirdly enough, the heart of everyone’s drama. The story kicks off with Raghav, a guy who’s been stuck in his own rut for way too long. He’s got this old lamp—passed down, chipped, kinda ugly, but whatever, it’s his—and for some reason, it starts to attract a wild bunch of neighbors, relatives, and total strangers, all with their own hang-ups and secrets. You’ve got Meera, who believes the lamp is magic (she’s a little out there, but sweet), and then there’s Ajay, who wants to pawn it off for quick cash, classic Ajay move. Throw in a couple of nosy aunties and a kid who thinks the lamp can talk, and suddenly, Raghav’s boring routine gets flipped upside down. Each person who comes for the lamp brings more chaos, old grudges surface, and some weirdly touching moments sneak in there too. There’s a lot of bickering, a good bit of laughter, and, honestly, some real talk about what people hang onto when everything else falls apart. The lamp, stubbornly refusing to just be a lamp, ends up connecting people who’d otherwise never speak to each other. It’s messy, it’s loud, but somehow it’s kind of beautiful, in that “life never goes as planned” sort of way. By the end, the lamp’s less important than the wild ride it dragged everyone on.