It was one fine summer evening of 1994 when we brought home a brand new VHS player and it all started for me. The shiny black device introduced me to the magic of motion pictures and my world never remained the same again.

In many ways, I was Cinema Paradiso's wide-eyed Salvatore di Vita who just got to discover the beauty of movies. I would let myself be transported to a pristine universe of fantasy where I could laugh and cry with the characters. I could celebrate their joy or share their pain and feel a surge of emotions that only cinema can evoke. The bedazzled me would be happy, despondent, shocked, agonized, tormented, astounded with every film I got a chance to immerse myself in.

For an 8-year-old this was a novel experience. Until then my exposure to films was limited to a few Bollywood countdown shows and a few trips to the local movie theatre with the family.

The VHS player was what unlocked a door to a world that was hitherto unknown to me yet was so deliciously delightful in every way possible. I would anxiously wait for every weekend when my uncle would bring the video cassettes home and we would all assemble in the living room to embark on a joyous ride.

I remember watching in awe as the Von Trapp children sang and danced Do-Re-Mi with Maria around the breathtaking locales in Salzburg. The Sound of Music was perhaps my gateway to classics of Hollywood that left an indelible impression on me.

The serenity of the Alps, the spectacular lakes, the mellifluous music, the sheer drama, and entertainment - what more do you need to draw a child's attention?

Do-Re-Mi became my anthem and The Sound of Music my elixir. I would listen to and learn every song by heart and sing along with the Von Trapps. My obsession with the film reached such a level that one summer vacation I watched it 15 times in the span of 30 days!

From The Sound of Music, I progressed to My Fair Lady and I was left equally enchanted. For hours I would hum, 'The Rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain' or get lost in my dreams singing, 'I could have danced all night'.

The evergreen classics also filled me with the knowledge that had so far remained out of bounds for me. Had it not been for the ethereal Audrey Hepburn, I would have never known at that age how gorgeous and sophisticated the Royal Ascot is.

Or how much of an inextricable bond a human being could form with an animal - I could have never felt it deeply had my uncle not introduced me to Born Free. All living beings blossom with love and care, irrespective of whether they are humans or not. Elsa taught me that in the 1966 film. My heart broke when the lioness had to leave her human parents and leaped in joy when she came back for a brief visit with her cubs. My eyes welled up with tears at that reunion.

It was the same emotional upheaval inside me when Princess Ann had to part ways with journalist Joe Bradley at the end of the most wonderful Roman Holiday. I learned about heartbreak for the first time and seeing Gregory Peck leave that opulent ballroom all alone made me feel empty inside. I didn't want that ending yet that is how cruel life is. That film made me come face-to-face with harsh reality and helped me grow up.

Perhaps nobody better than Charlie Chaplin taught me about life. Through his inimitable brand of sarcasm and wit, he portrayed the close relation between comedy and tragedy.

"Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up but a comedy in Longshot" - said the Master. It actually took me years to decipher what he meant. And when I finally did, I was left speechless at how amazingly he could use his unique humour to exhibit some of the most mundane and tragic situations through his films.

The best thing about Charlie Chaplin films is that they can be enjoyed at any age. We would laugh together boisterously while watching The Gold Rush or City Lights or Modern Times. As a child, I was of course oblivious to the social message each of those gems had as much as I didn't know who The Great Dictator was directed at.

Just as I didn't know what Ben-Hur or The Ten Commandments was all about. Yet that didn't stop me from feeling the thrill of the nine-minute chariot race in the 1959 Best Picture Oscar winner or letting it arouse the competitive spirit inside me.

I also still have vivid memories of cowering in fear when the terrifying shark in Jaws devoured the shark hunter. I was left numb with pain.
I was too little to comprehend at that age that it was all due to the sheer brilliance of the art department in Steven Spielberg's gripping thriller - something I understood much later.

And that is exactly where the success of these timeless classics lies. Your fondness and appreciation for these legendary films become even more profound as you deduce the important truth they carry.

You learn to value them more when you realize how brutally real and downright honest they have been.

You fall madly in love with them when you fathom the very fact that they had been preparing you for life ahead all along.

Through their simplicity and their unadulterated nature, classics tell you more about life in just a couple of hours than anything ever could. They touch your deepest chord and make you feel emotions you never knew existed within you, shaping your persona and your identity.

They build YOU.

That is why they are my lifelong friends. And so should be yours.