The musky smell of an old Talkies on a summer afternoon, its dingy interiors during the torrential monsoons, the dreams it offered held captive a people. The projectionist as a Demi-god dwelling in a world of fantasies, a rustic world populated by an unpretentious people immersing themselves in the celluloid illusions, life tenuously moving on the border lines of the real and imagined. A tale is evolving...the untold saga of Sreedevi Talkies