Halloween is one of those festivals that exposes everyone’s true nature. Some people start planning in September, build Pinterest boards titled “Hot but haunting,” and will actually handcraft a wand using aluminium foil and trauma. Others? They’ll throw on a black lipstick five minutes before the party and call it “Morticia-core.”
This article features the duo of delusion: Niamat Dhillon at HCMUJ (the pumpkin princess/obsessed planner who probably has fake blood in her Amazon cart year-round) and Navya Nitash at HCMUJ (the med-school veteran who thinks celebrating Halloween is an extreme sport). Two best friends, one room, one cracked mirrorball, and a single question: How old is too old for Halloween, or are we all just kids playing dress-up with better lighting?
Below is their unfiltered, unhinged conversation: equal parts wholesome nostalgia and chaotic energy, sprinkled with glitter, sarcasm, and a dash of existential dread.
The Halloween spirit of it all
Halloween is that one night a year when chaos gets a costume.
It’s glitter and fake blood, childhood nostalgia and adult delusion all mashed into one pumpkin-shaped fever dream. The air smells like sugar and rebellion, and the playlist alternates between “Thriller” and someone screaming “PASS ME THE EYELINER” in the bathroom mirror. Somewhere between childhood candy runs and college costume parties, Halloween stopped being about ghosts and became about who you let yourself be when no one’s judging.
When Niamat was asked about her Halloween experiences, she said, “Halloween’s been my yearly ritual since I moved to Mumbai in 2nd grade. Chaos, costumes, and all. Now it’s less trick-or-treating, more party tricks. It’s the one day people don’t care what you’re wearing, they care who you’re embodying.”
Meanwhile Navya said, “Can’t relate. Never done the Halloween thing. Med School had me dressing up as sleep deprivation for years. It was too demanding with exams, papers, and projects. Never went trick-or-treating, never been to a Halloween party. I did see other people dress up, post on their stories, host parties, but for me the only thing haunting were the deadlines.”
The two of us sit across each other, laughing at how different our definitions of spirit are. For one, it’s tradition. For the other, it’s a pop culture phenomenon she’s spectated from the sidelines. But both of us agree: Halloween is less about what you wear and more about what you shed. The expectations, the seriousness, the routine, all fall away for a night where chaos is couture and confidence is candy.
Nostalgia, chaos, and cursed eyeliner.
You know that first rush of Halloween magic? The kind that makes your skin buzz like your mum’s fairy lights on Diwali? Here we talk about what our favourite Halloween memory has been.
Niamat: “Bellatrix Lestrange, three years in a row. Made my own light-up wand, bruised up my face with mum’s lipstick and kohl. Went trick-or-treating once to a family that didn’t even know Halloween was a thing. They panicked and gave us their entire snack stash: cookies, biscuits, expensive chocolates. Peak Mumbai Halloween.”
Navya: “Meanwhile me? I was too broke and busy dissecting frogs to dissect the meaning of Halloween. But if I had been in the West, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe I’d have gone as a tired doctor. Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t even a costume for me.”
There’s something poetic about how nostalgia works: one person’s memory lane is another’s unpaved road. But that’s the thing about Halloween: you don’t need a childhood of costumes to feel its spirit. Sometimes, all it takes is one night, one outfit, one “screw it, let’s dress up anyway” to rewrite the lore for yourself.
Age? a scam.
“Isn’t Halloween for kids?” says someone who hasn’t felt joy since 2012.
Niamat says, “Honestly? Age is a social construct. The only cringe thing about Halloween is people acting like fun has an expiry date. Sure, maybe don’t go trick-or-treating at 20, but if you wanna host a costume party, movie night, or even poker night at like 40 — live a little. Glitter is not bound by age.”
Navya agrees by saying, “Exactly. People dressing up ‘just for the gram’ is one thing, but others genuinely enjoy it. Also, influencers — please stop culturally appropriating random countries every October. If you’re gonna do Halloween, do it with heart or don’t do it at all.”
We both laugh, agreeing that the true test of adulthood is knowing when to keep the spirit alive and when to let the cringe go. Growing up isn’t about letting the fun die; it’s about knowing how to carry it differently. Less plastic fangs, more fangirl energy.
Lipstick, chaos, and Pinterest boards.
Every Halloween friendship has that dynamic — the one who plans a month in advance and the one who forgets till the day of. Guess who’s who.
Niamat, our pumpkin princess, fights back the Pinterest infinite scroll allegations. She says, “I don’t do Pinterest boards, but I do think through my costumes. I need it to mean something. I can DIY, I can repurpose, but it has to vibe. If I’m dressing up, it’s because it says something about me, not just because it’s trending.”
Navya replies with, “Meanwhile me, first year of doing Halloween, zero prep. Nia dragged me into it and I literally had no clothes. So I just did Morticia Addams lips and called it a night. Honestly? Iconic.”
And that’s the beauty of it. Some people plan with passion, others survive on chaos, and both are equally valid. Because Halloween isn’t about how elaborate your costume is, it’s about whether you feel alive wearing it.
Effort, originality, hotness, or chaos.
If there were a Miss Universe pageant for Halloween costumes, the crown would go to whoever can balance all four.
Niamat: “A good costume is one that means something to you. You can be original, hot, chaotic, or put in effort, but it’s about what you connect to. I was obsessed with mirrorballs this year. Made my own skirt out of an old dress I never wore, wore silver makeup and black lipstick, and felt seen. That’s all that matters.”
Navya: “As a woman? It’s all of them. Effort, originality, hotness, chaos — they coexist. We work for that one look, that one photo, that one night. Because yes, we want to be spooky, but we also want to be that girl.”
Somewhere in between the eyeliner and the fake blood, there’s power. Dressing up isn’t vanity; it’s reclamation. You’re saying, this version of me deserves to be witnessed.
When enthusiasm becomes delusion.
We both agree: there’s a line between being spirited and being possessed.
Niamat: “When you start spending insane amounts of money on your costume, that’s where it stops being fun. Like babe, it’s one night, not your wedding.”
Navya: “Exactly. If your costume has a bigger budget than your pocket money, please reconsider. I did my whole look with red lipstick and kohl. #BrokeStudentsUnite.”
Halloween isn’t supposed to drain your bank account; it’s supposed to fill your soul. If you’re spiralling over sequin placement, maybe take a breath and remember: Heidi Klum’s the only one people actually remember next day anyway.
Movie night or madness till 2 a.m.?
Some of us want to party till dawn. Some of us want to cry-laugh over popcorn and Coraline.
Niamat, the resident over-achiever who believes that she gets 48 hours a day, she believes both is possible. She says, “Both, ideally. Dance, take photos, then end the night with takeaway and a spooky-but-not-scary movie. Like Hocus Pocus, not The Conjuring. I want to feel festive, not dead.”
Navya, the realist icon, says, “Depends on the energy that day. One day I’m a party animal, next I’m a hibernating sloth. But this year? I was down to party. It’s been too long since I set myself free.”
Halloween doesn’t judge your vibe, it meets you where you are. Whether that’s at a club or on your couch, the spirit’s the same: we’re all just pretending to be someone else for a night, and that’s oddly healing.
Wins, fails, and fake bruises.
We asked each other what our favourite costume EVER was.
Niamat: “Bellatrix forever. My DIY wand lit up, my gown was perfection, and I made bruises with mum’s makeup. Peak chaos. No fails here.”
Navya: “Not applicable since this was my first Halloween; but my Morticia lips? Ate. If I ever do a full look, it’s over for you all.”
It’s funny how confidence becomes costume. Sometimes the best look isn’t what you wear; it’s the energy that says I understood the assignment, even if the assignment was last-minute.
The soundtrack of our spirits.
Every Halloween has a vibe. A sonic fingerprint.
Niamat: “Mine’s Breathe (In the Air) by Pink Floyd. Feels like a back-and-forth conversation between an angel and Lucifer, while dropping Lucifer to hell — calm, eerie, cinematic.”
Navya: “Muskaanein Jhooti Hai or Aao Huzoor Tumko. Sensual, spooky, femme fatale energy. It’s giving vintage Halloween glamour.”
The soundtracks might differ, but the rhythm’s the same: something a little dark, a little divine, and completely unserious.
Community, creativity, or chaos.
Niamat: “Maybe community abroad. In India, it’s just another excuse to party. But hey, I’m not complaining.”
Navya: “Exactly. Western culture celebrates the creativity, but here, people just wanna dance and get good pictures. Honestly, that is its own community.”
Halloween is proof that chaos can bring people together. Whether you’re painting fake blood or downing mocktails in devil horns, for one night, everyone’s on the same wavelength of weird.
Too old for Halloween? never.
Niamat: “Aren’t you too old to judge people for Halloween? Depends on the people. Adulthood doesn’t ruin it, it redefines it.”
Navya: “I say I’m too old for it out of laziness, not principle. But if someone else said it to me? I’d smack them. Lovingly. With the right friends, it gets better. No curfews, no stress, just chaos and comfort.”
You don’t outgrow Halloween; you just start buying your own candy.
The forever traditions.
Niamat: “Dressing up. Always. Even if it’s just eyeliner and vibes. It’s the one day I get to not be me.”
Navya: “Bro, let me make a tradition first. Crying doesn’t count, right?”
Traditions start small; maybe with a lipstick, a photo, or a joke. What matters is that you choose to play along with life again, even when it’s ridiculous.
What would our 10-year-old selves say?
Niamat: “Good job, keep it up, but go scarier. Less pretty, more fake blood.”
Navya: “My 10-year-old self would be ecstatic. I’m partying, expressing, having fun; she’d be proud.”
Childhood us didn’t know what we’d become, but they’d probably love that we still find joy in dressing up. The little version of us lives for the grown-up who still believes in play.
Transformation or self-expression?
Niamat: “Both. Depends on the theme, the mood, the moment.”
Navya: “I’d use it to explore more: new makeup, new styles, maybe even SFX one day. It’s about expression, but also evolution.”
Halloween’s secret isn’t escapism. It’s honesty; the kind that hides behind glitter and fangs but tells the truth louder than words: we all want to be seen differently, even if just for a night.
By the time we’re done talking, our snacks have disappeared, our eyeliner’s smudged, and the clock’s well past midnight; which feels poetic, because isn’t that when the real Halloween starts?
We realise this whole “flip side of the spirit” thing isn’t about costumes or candy. It’s about growing up with the spirit instead of out of it. It’s about holding onto that part of yourself that still wants to dress up, still wants to laugh too loudly, still wants to live as if every night has a little magic left in it.
Halloween isn’t childish. It’s childlike. It’s the one night where we stop performing adulthood and start performing joy.
So maybe, next October, don’t overthink it. Paint your lips red, wear your silliest hat, and dance till your feet hurt. Because the spirit of Halloween, the real one, isn’t dead. It’s just evolving, one chaotic costume at a time.