Beyond Destiny ~ A Saga Of Timeless Love

01 ~ Beginning

"Even in the loneliest moments, I have been there for myself."

Ruhanika

Life, indeed, is full of the unexpected, unfolding in ways we often cannot predict. Just a few years ago, I was nestled in the comforting embrace of my parents and grandparents, living in a world seemingly made of unicorns and rainbows. As their only child, I was cherished, doted upon, and showered with endless love. They used to call me the "fruit of their love," a reminder of the bond we shared, one built on affection, warmth, and a profound sense of belonging. Our family, in every sense, was picture-perfect, as if we had stepped out of the pages of a fairytale.

But life, as it tends to, shattered that dream in an instant. In one cruel moment, everything was ripped from me. The mirror of my happy world broke into countless shards, each one reflecting the emptiness that now consumes me. I was the only one who survived that accident—the only one left behind, while they all slipped away. I am haunted by their absence, left alone to navigate a world that feels foreign without their presence. Their laughter, their touch, the way they held me—all now just memories that I clutch to my chest, yearning for the impossible return of the life I once knew.

I often wish I hadn’t survived. It would’ve been easier to leave this world with them, to be free of this unbearable weight of grief and solitude. For someone like me, an introvert by nature, the struggle to survive without them felt like an insurmountable task. And yet, somehow, I did. Perhaps they are watching over me, proud of the resilience I didn’t know I had. It’s the thought of them, the knowledge that they would want me to be happy, that slowly taught me how to smile again. And recently, after what felt like a lifetime of sorrow, I achieved something they would have celebrated with me—I earned my filmmaking diploma. I know they would have been proud.

Through this tumultuous journey, my saving grace has been my friends—Kiran and Suhani. They are my anchors, the reasons I continue to move forward. I met them during my college years when I was at my lowest, drowning in depression and despair. At the time, I shut everyone out, wrapped in my grief, and I treated them no differently. I ignored them, kept them at arm’s length, and pushed them away with my cold indifference. Yet, they never wavered.

Kiran and Suhani stood by my side, even when I gave them every reason to walk away. They cared for me like I was their responsibility, even when I didn’t deserve it. They nurtured me, supported me, and slowly began to pull me out of the darkness. They were patient with me, offering love and compassion where I had shown only distance and rudeness. They guided me, taught me to live again, and held me accountable when I went astray. In every way that matters, they became my family—steadfast, loyal, and loving.

Not everyone is fortunate enough to find friends like Kiran and Suhani—friends who remain when the world crumbles. They are my hidden gems, the ones who illuminate my path when I can’t find my way. Without them, I might have given up long ago. But because of them, I’m learning to live again. 

We are currently working on a documentary that delves into the rich history of our country. From a young age, I’ve been captivated by the grandeur of the past—our culture, traditions, rituals, clothing, music, and architecture—it’s all so enchanting, like a woven tapestry of timeless beauty. I’ve often found myself wishing I had been born in that era, a time where the world seemed to be bathed in an ethereal glow. I know it’s fanciful, perhaps even impossible, but there’s something within me that longs for the experience—to live as they did, to walk in their shoes, to see the world through their eyes.