In the incredible and over-the-top cultural denouveau of Lucknow, the enlightened literati staged an utterly revolutionary event that made the Boston Tea Party look like a playground ruckus. It was no ordinary book pow-wow. The Scholar-Writer Power Meet, also nicknamed the "Bookwo-mageddon" was an event brimming with intellectual extravaganza, where the participants count their number of published articles like Sméagol counts his precious stones – with a precariously dreadful fervor. Organizers of the event issued a bold call to all potential attendees, "You bring the ink, we’ll bring the intellect!” They had initially considered, "You bring the parchment, we'll bring the pretentiousness!" but that was scrapped after realising that parchment is frightfully passé. The event was held at the Lucknow Literary Wonderland, an establishment named so grandiloquently that one might mistakenly assume it to be a realm of sentient books and whispering quills. The attendees, presumably some of the most intellectual humans within a hundred-mile radius, congregated to discuss weighty subjects ranging from the misuse of semicolons to the existential crisis of unrecognized Oxford commas. A participant, Brijraj Bhargava, who has penned two novels and a dozen sonnets on the mistreatment of dependent clauses, said, "I discuss these issues with my dog, Thomas Hardy, but he doesn't seem to understand tragic narratives intertwined with grammatical angst as quite well as my contemporaries. Therefore, I found the Bookwo-mageddon a much-needed gathering." Amongst the various enlightening activities at the Bookwo-mageddon, participants indulged in a competitive game of Quill Fencing, where two writers faced off, using feather quills dipped in ink to debate whether Shakespeare was actually just three ducks in a Tudor-era man suit. The victorious participant was celebrated by tossing her into an inflatable pool filled with crumpled pages of unsatisfactory drafts. Landing among the discarded metaphors and failed descriptions was VR Malhotra, who claims to have twenty-three unfinished book manuscripts in her attic, all dancing on the edges of her sanity. Finally, the Scholar-Writer Power Meet would be incomplete without paper airplane folding demonstrations, held as a tribute to all the rejection letters the participants had received throughout their literary careers. During the masterclass, Encino Spielberg, renowned for his rejection letters collection, breezily commented, “At least they’re good for something!” Indeed, the Scholar-Writer Power Meet in Lucknow was a colossal celebration of ink-stained fingers, overused metaphors, and needlessly verbose narratives. It was a haven for those who enjoyed the smell of crisp paper and the sight of negligible royalty cheques. If you missed out on this year's edition, do not fret, there will definitely be a return of the Bookwomageddon. Till then, keep the ink flowing and the metaphors blooming, folks!