07/03/2026
Though I have been a lover of cinema since childhood, I must confess that this was probably my first experience of watching a full-length Iranian film, and I am grateful to the Pakistan Film Society for providing this opportunity. My unfamiliarity with films from other cultures perhaps stems from a lifelong inheritance of heavily consuming Bollywood and Hollywood movies, which adorned my visual dream world for the longest time. Eventually, when I grew old enough to view the world through my own lens, I found myself immersed in fulfilling my motherly responsibilities.
My introduction to this 5000-year-old civilization had long remained limited to the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the timeless quotes of the Persian poet Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi, Persian carpets, chandeliers, and the famed Persian firoza — a gemstone I still hope to add to my ring collection someday.
Inspired by their rich cultural heritage, and more recently by my growing interest in the writings and analyses of Vali Nasr, I once expressed to my family my wish to visit Iran. Their response, however, was hesitant. Yet I believe that everything unfolds in its own time, and watching Iranian cinema at this moment feels especially meaningful.
In a century where the world is witnessing some of the deadliest conflicts in recent history, threatening to erase ancient civilizations, engaging with Iranian cinema becomes more than just an artistic experience — it becomes an act of cultural understanding and empathy.
The award-winning film Songs of Sparrows is truly a gem. It beautifully captures human compassion and the challenges that ultimately make us more human, sensitive, and relevant in an age where artificial intelligence and robotics increasingly attempt to replace emotion and human connection.
As I watched the gentle visuals of Tehran and its suburbs, my imagination could not escape the shadows of war that loom over the region. And in that moment, my heart found itself praying for the people of Iran more deeply than ever before.
