Then he clicked .

Arjun almost closed the tab. It was probably a scam. But his fingers, betraying his logic, typed: May 12, 2018 .

And for the first time in six years, he filmed his own life—not to download it, but to save it.

“Arjun, beta, stop filming and come eat your samosa before it gets cold.”

But there she was. Moving. Speaking. Alive.

The screen flickered again. A cricket match in the backyard. His father teaching him to hold a bat. The smell of wet earth after rain. A conversation about nothing—about school grades and the price of petrol.