Did you hear? Apparently, Monash came to life.
On most days, the campus moves with a certain predictability. Corridors stay quiet, stairways echo with occasional footsteps, and classrooms fill with students arriving somewhere between eager and exhausted. Some come to learn, some come to sleep and some convince themselves that waking up at 8 a.m. and getting home at 8 p.m. is simply part of the routine they signed up for.
But this Tuesday felt different.
Music spilled through the foyer, booths appeared where empty space usually sits and suddenly the place felt less like a passageway and more like an actual gathering point. A jungle of banners, sign-up sheets and enthusiastic club members trying their best to grab the attention of passing students.
Strangely enough, it worked.
Students arrived earlier than they probably would on any other Tuesday, lingering instead of rushing through. Conversations grew louder, laughter more frequent. The smiles usually printed neatly on promotional pamphlets were finally visible and, more importantly, audible.

Welcome to Monash C&S Week!
The shift was gradual; the usual view of the empty foyer was bustling with fresh faces, some familiar, others new. Amongst the unusual crowd, Monash Cheerleading club was quick to grab attention with their theatrical stunts, perfectly timed flips; they were the jocks of the booths, loud, flashy, impossible to ignore. And somehow, in all their limelight-grabbing glory, they charmed the newcomers, giving them the fleeting hope that maybe one day they too could stand on someone’s shoulders without toppling over. Sitting right beside the cheerleaders was the Golf Club, basically a magnet for the bros, checking out the swing techniques like they were already millionaires.
Directly across, sat Monash Business Club and Monash University Investment Club faced off against Monash Account and Finance Club, the overachievers and career climbers of the foyer. Each armed with tactics to lure in students, some offered games, others waved T-shirts, and a few dangled drink vouchers like bait. A quiet battle of ambition and polyester, and the tension was oddly entertaining.

Meanwhile, cultural clubs and creative societies were the artsy free spirits, colourful decorations, traditional snacks, and chill vibes. Monash Music Club took it up a notch with performances that made the place feel like a drama montage, drums, guitars, and soulful voices filling every corner, even snagging the attention of security guards.
By noon, Monash Chamber Orchestra rolled in with just a keyboard and a violin. It didn’t look like much at first, but the moment the music began, conversations softened, and people turned around midwalk. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about clubs signing people up; it felt like C&S week is all about showcasing what students can do beyond their degree.
After their performance, one of the musicians admitted they had been nervous before starting.
Then came Monash Christian Fellowship, two singers, a guitar and a keyboard gave it their all. Though enthusiastic and heartfelt, compared to the orchestra’s effortless vibe shift, they fell a little short. All they gained were wandering glances and polite claps from students.
Upon interviewing them, members of the group were quick to reflect on the performance with honesty. They felt it could have gone better, they said, the kind of self-criticism that usually comes from caring a little too much about getting it right.
Then the dancers arrived, the show stoppers of the bunch, waking the crowd up with their enthusiasm. Latin routines burst with energy, ballet followed with calm elegance, and each transition seemed to pull the crowd further in. At one point, the foyer fell completely silent, only to erupt into applause when the music stopped.
The dancers later shared that the routine had taken two months to prepare. Even then, they believed there was room for improvement. The crowd, however, seemed to disagree. Judging by the cheers, they had already won the room. One fresher nearby even declared them the best performance of the day.
If Tuesday was chaos finding its rhythm, Wednesday was something else entirely – quieter but more self assured.

The Wednesday of C&S Week started quieter, more understated, but all the more evolved. The cool morning breeze was an omen of what was to come once the skies cleared and people filled the foyer. As they say in the movies, it’s quiet, too quiet.
Wrapping up my two-hour morning shift at the Monash Buddhist Society, I said my goodbyes and headed out. That’s my merit done for the day. I’ve paid my karmic dues; it’s time to give in to my earthly desires. What new hot takes does MONFILM have today?
Walking out of the wet-market-like booths in front of Auditorium 1, the rush of Tuesday’s traffic had subsided as the initial freshie surge of the week ended. Real hump day vibes—all the more reinforced when I said hello to my fellow compatriots at MONPAC.
They described their experience of C&S week as “chaotic, fun, busy, but Wednesday more chill, lah”.
More chill, lah indeed, but we were just getting started.
Following the trail of alt-presenting pupils and the sound of Green Day’s Last Night On Earth, I made my way towards the foyer. As if stepping into a scene straight from the 2010s, Monash Music Club was jamming it out with the typical garage band setup. A nonchalant keyboardist, the indifferent bass player, the scarily on-time drummer, and one hell of a vocalist to boot.
As MMC finished up their final set and the sea of graphic tees and wallet chains dispersed, Monash’s very own Chinese Cultural Society could be seen practicing for their diabolo performance. It was trance-like, really. The tosses, juggling, and finesse exhibited by the three diabolists stopped passerby dead in their tracks.
Enchanted by the spinning helices – and recession pop playing in the background – onlookers watched on as the diabolists masterfully balanced their yo-yos on top of the string emerging from their batons. The tension in the air was reflective of the tension of the strings, dissipating only when the performers made their final bow.
Things were ramping up. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a group of a couple of dozen or so spilling into the foyer. Pink pom-poms, dark academia, tasteful earth tones. Who were they? I managed to talk to one of the girls, who gracefully explained that she was a part of the Monash Street Dance Society. “Nervous, excited, and enlightened” was the flavor of feelings before the show today. The classic performer’s dilemma; I ask why.
“Well, we’ve been practicing all week for this one moment,” she remarked, her eyes scanning the gathering storm of a crowd.
“But I do feel happy inside. As dancers, we do it for the crowd; for them and for ourselves.”
Like many a performer, she lived for the applause. And like many a journalist, I thanked her for her time and wished her well.

By Thursday, the energy had settled into something more personal.
Thursday! Navigating the booths feels like a morning jog through a waking park. My pace joined the budding energy as I checked my watch: 8:30 AM. Surprised, I left as hushed deliberations drifted through the stalls. I reached class ten minutes later.
After three days of passing by, a few clubs piqued my curiosity. What’s a Plamo club? Has MUIG always had this much attention? Where is the E-Sports club? C&S week has been the one event I have looked forward to every semester, as it fuels the university’s liveliness and the freshmen’s infectious vitality.
Granted, I have typically only visited the booths when there was a performance. So, when the chamber orchestra cancelled at the last minute, I was taken aback. Having followed them closely since an event photoshoot two years ago, I ate my lunch sullenly.
I came back to the booths after lunch to kill time. Met with a slightly more thrumming crowd, I caught the ba-dum-tsss in the background. The music club had set up drums and guitars (among other instruments) for anyone to play, creating an upbeat atmosphere. I eventually got to the music club, hoping there was a bigger crowd.

While the ping-pong club hosted matches for free memberships, I lingered by the tennis club. Two participants were performing keep-ups, their tally climbing into the hundreds! After browsing other club booths, I eventually found the Plamo club. It turns out the name isn’t as mysterious as it sounds; short for ‘Plastic Model,’ it was a haven of Gundams and intricate kits. Although the investment club (MUIG) has been gathering quite a bit of interest, no clubs came close to the attention the business club (MBC) has been getting all afternoon. It is the go-to club for networking and making friends after all, no surprises here.
I started making my way out of the crowd, heading back home.
“Hmm, not bad for a Thursday,” I thought, as I filtered through the slightly shrunken crowd.
Photos by Asjad A, Yuto K
