I don’t remember the exact moment cinema chose me. Maybe it was somewhere between a psychology class in Dhaka University and a silent rooftop in Seoul. Maybe it was while watching strangers cry in the dark over someone else’s story. Or maybe it was always there—this quiet obsession with people, their flaws, their dreams, their desperate need to be seen.
I’ve carried that obsession across continents. From Dhaka University to film schools in Sydney, Melbourne, and Seoul. From a snowy semester in Wisconsin to sleepless nights in edit rooms around the world. Along the way, I’ve told stories that made their way to Locarno, Busan, Goa, Montreal, Kerala—and once or twice, representing my Country to the top festivals around the globe.
My debut feature Jalal’s Story was about a boy, but really it was about fate. My Netflix-released anthology Sincerely Yours, Dhaka was about a city, but really it was about loneliness. I’ve produced films like No Ground Beneath the Feet and A House with No Names—tales rooted in Bangladesh but reaching out to a global heartbeat. And with Mercules, I stepped into the world of web series to explore what happens when morality slips through the cracks.
I don’t make films to impress. I make them to confess.
Every story I tell is an invitation—into a world that may look like yours, but feels slightly askew. Because truth is never straight. And cinema, when done right, never lets you leave the same person you came in as.