Reviews & Musings

For a long time, cinema was a world I wasn’t allowed to enter. I grew up in a home where movies were banned. No television, no glimpses of silver screens, and no songs echoing from old classics. For nearly a decade, cinema was a forbidden word like a secret behind a closed door.  And yet, like all things that carry truth and longing, it found its way to me. Stories have a way of finding you, slipping through cracks, whispered between pages, caught in melodies. Sometimes through the corners of borrowed books, sometimes through whispered summaries from classmates, sometimes just through the magnetic pull of posters and songs I wasn’t supposed to hear. 

As a reader, it is extremely important to read vastly before you finally conclude what you like reading in terms of authors and genres. I started like that too and realised that I love reading. Period. There is no barrier to genres, authors or languages. Even with such a vast option of books to choose from, I had reached a phase where I felt I was getting too mechanical with my reading. I mean read because its a habit, know the story and end of it.