D K

Indian shows have to show some shit, drama & non-sense. “Breaking Bad” is a cult while this had a potential to be good but we add our own masala.

I still remember watching Zee Horror Show as a kid — lights off, blanket ready, and heart racing. The intro music alone was enough to send chills down my spine! Every episode had that perfect mix of suspense, fear, and curiosity that kept me glued to the screen, even if I was half hiding. Back then, the special effects felt so real, and the eerie voices and haunted havelis were enough to give me nightmares — but I still couldn’t stop watching. It was my first introduction to horror, and it had a unique charm. The stories were spooky but not gory, which made them strangely enjoyable even as a child. Looking back, it’s more nostalgia than fear — but that thrill I felt is unforgettable. Zee Horror Show was a weekly dose of adrenaline, and for many of us, the first time we truly loved being scared.

I remember watching Byomkesh Bakshi as a kid, sitting wide-eyed in front of the TV every Sunday. I didn’t understand everything back then, but I was fascinated by the way Byomkesh spoke and how he solved every case so calmly. Rajit Kapoor was Byomkesh for me — intelligent, quiet, always observing. I loved how the stories slowly unfolded, with no loud music or overacting — just clever twists and smart conversations. Even as a child, the show made me feel like I was part of something serious and grown-up. The black-and-white vibe, the Kolkata setting, and the background music stayed with me for years. Now when I rewatch it, I notice the depth I missed back then — the writing, the characters, the layered mysteries. Byomkesh Bakshi was more than just a show; it was my first taste of good storytelling, and it still holds a special place in my heart.

Watching Malgudi Days has always felt like a warm hug from the past. Every episode takes me back to a simpler time, where small-town life was filled with big emotions. The characters, especially Swami, felt so real — like kids I grew up with or stories my grandparents would tell. What I love most is how each story is so human — filled with innocence, humor, and quiet wisdom. The music still gives me goosebumps, and the visuals of the dusty streets and old houses are etched in my memory. There’s no overacting, no drama — just beautiful storytelling that touches the heart. It’s a show that makes you pause, smile, and think. Even today, it feels relevant and refreshing. For me, Malgudi Days isn’t just a show — it’s an emotion, a reminder of the beauty in everyday life.