Three words. One trigger. Bhaag Milkha Bhaag isn’t just what his coach yells; it’s what his father screamed before everything was lost. A reflection on memories and the courage it takes to face what we’ve buried

We all deal with pain differently. Some confront it head-on. Others keep moving, so it never catches up. Sanjay Sahu and Veera Raghava feel like two men carrying the same wound, just in opposite directions.

Sanjay Sahu never looks like a man carrying the weight of his past. He laughs, drinks, falls in love, and refuses seriousness. And yet, somewhere beneath all that fun lies a history that quietly shaped who he became, and the way he chose to survive it.

We all love looking back at who we were, who we grew up with, and the moments that shaped us. Coming-of-age films understand this instinct deeply. So why is a genre rooted in memory, honesty, and change still so rare in Telugu cinema?

From unforgettable performances to fearless new voices, 2018 reshaped how I experienced Telugu cinema.

Looking back, 2018 wasn’t just a turning point for Telugu cinema; it was a personal one too.

Before pan-India ambition reshaped Telugu cinema, Ala Vaikuntapuramulo thrived on songs, humor, and a hero who could simply be fun and alive.

Manchester by the Sea doesn’t offer comfort or closure. It offers something rarer, an honest look at how grief lingers, returns, and quietly reshapes the people who live with it

For years, Balakrishna felt out of sync with the cinema around him. This piece traces that drift and how he eventually reclaimed the star he always was.

A personal reflection on anxiety and how Vinland Saga became a quiet companion during a difficult period of my life.

A reflection on tragic love stories, the ache of “what if,” and why unfinished endings linger longer than happy ones, in cinema, and in life.

What began as fear in a dark theatre slowly turned into curiosity, filmmaking, and a way of learning how to move forward. A reflection on beginnings, fear, and choosing not to give up.