i woke up to a phone call at 6:00 AM on may 4th, 2025, from my father, who began by telling me Not To worry, and i was confused. he informed that my mother’s at the hospital, yet again. as i got back to my usual morning routine, i received another call from my uncle, who told me to pack things up as quickly as i could and come back home. that’s when i knew something wasn’t right.
Less than Twenty-Four hours earlier, I had wrapped the first day of a shoot in Los Angeles. My friend dropped me home, told me she’d pick me up at 9 the next morning, and I jokingly reminded her not to be late. I never made it back to that set. Instead, I found myself on a flight to Hyderabad that evening.
my journey was filled with anxiety that day. a week before this, i was on a video call with Amma showing her my film’s set. we were laughing and talking about how much i had grown. and now i was told that she was at the hospital quietly battling for her life.
i landed in hyderabad on may 6th. it was 2:00 AM, and my aunt picked me up from airport. and i still remember seeing her face, a face filled with dread. as we headed to the hospital, she tried to tell me everything that lead them to the hospital. but i was unable to get anything into my head cause i was still processing my sudden travel, leaving LA, and everything i left behind.
as i entered the hospital, A Sense Of Uncertainty Settled Over Me. i headed over to the first floor, seeing people scared. my body was quietly shaking. as i stood outside the room where my mother was present, my grandmother came outside and noticed me. no one informed her about my arrival and she burst into tears as i saw her. i was seeing my family after 5 months, and it was emotional for all of us.
the same feeling i experienced on 30th december 2023 came back. i wasn’t informed my mother was at the hospital battling something serious back then as well. i was truly shocked, numb to see my beautiful, healthy mother at the hospital. from that day on, i always wished that feeling would never come back, but it did.
and there i went in, opening the door to a dimly lit hospital room with the fragrance i hate. and there was my mother, with an oxygen mask, sleeping. she had become very weak, and it broke my heart seeing her that way. i never left her sight for another week, as she tragically passed away on the 14th of May. what followed was ceremonies, grief, and an uncertainty that i wasn’t ready to handle.
never in my life i had imagined that the first death i would experience would be my mother.
if you asked anyone in my family about me, the first thing they’d tell is that i was a mamma’s boy, and they weren’t wrong. she was my A1; she was my go-to person for anything. she was the one shining light i would look for when things Seemed wrong.
My mother knew far more about her condition than she ever let me know. Even then, when it was time for me to leave for Los Angeles, she never once asked me to stay. In fact, she did the opposite. Many people told her to keep me close. They said i could be there in a year.
But she wouldn’t listen. instead, she said:
“It’s okay. I’ll be alright. Let my son go after his dreams.”
She refused to become the reason I looked back. She wanted me to build the life we had dreamed about, even if it meant spending those months without me beside her. I often wonder if she knew. If somewhere deep down she understood that she might never see me come home. That thought breaks me every single time.
While I was chasing the future she had always imagined for me, she was quietly giving me one final gift, the freedom to chase it without guilt. The world, unfortunately, had other plans.
There are days when I want nothing more than to sit beside her. To be in her presence again, wrapped in the quiet comfort that only she could give. Just to hear her say those words one more time:
“It’s okay. Everything will be alright. I’m here for you.”
And then, for a split second, I forget. That’s the cruelest part of grief. I’ve slowly learned to live without the person I never imagined I’d have to live without.
i guess Every film I make, and every story I tell, will always belong, in some way, to her. Because before anyone else believed I could become a filmmaker, she did.