There's Still Time

For Everyone Who Thinks They've Fallen Behind

There comes a time in every life when you realize the future you’ve been waiting for is never going to arrive on its own. You have to wake up, take ownership of the life you’ve been given, and become the person your younger self believed you could be. Not for applause. Not for admiration. But because you owe that person, you owe that version of yourself, a chance to exist.

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Varshangalkku Shesham (2024)

Magic Of Cinema By Amrit Ramnath From Varshangalkku Shesham (Original Score) (2024)

In Varshangalkku Shesham, Venu wants to narrate stories through cinema and Murali wants to provide a voice to those stories through music. They might have different aspirations, but they have one common goal, to make a film together as a writer-director and composer duo. Armed with little more than hope, belief in each other and a dream much larger than themselves, they leave Kerala for Madras, determined to make their mark in a world that has never heard their names. Like every dream, theirs looked beautiful from a distance. They had no idea that before the applause, before the recognition, and before the silver screen, life would first ask them to endure years of uncertainty.

The journey they had imagined was about to become far greater than the dream itself. What awaited them wasn't just the pursuit of success, but a journey that would test the very dream that brought them there.

Madras greeted them with crowded rooms, uncertain tomorrows, and an industry that demanded far more than talent alone. Yet with every rejection came another lesson, and with every setback, another reason to stay. Slowly, the city that had once refused to acknowledge them began to remember their names.

Their breakthrough came through a friendship that refused to let success belong to only one of them. When a producer recognised Murali's extraordinary gift, he refused the offer unless Venu directed the film. It was a quiet act of loyalty that defined everything that followed. Together, they finally made the film they had always dreamed of.

After years of arriving in Madras with little more than hope, Venu couldn't bring himself to sit inside the theatre. He waited outside while a young assistant director quietly described the audience's reaction over the phone. Years of uncertainty had quietly converged into a single unanswered moment. Then, all at once, silence gave way to thunder. Laughter erupted. The halls echoed with applause. In that single moment, two young dreamers became artists the entire industry celebrated.

But the celebration was never Venu's alone. Instead of basking in the limelight, he went in search of Murali, the friend with whom the dream had begun. Together, they stood silently in the theatre lobby, listening to strangers applaud the story they had once only dreamed of. Their greatest victory wasn't success itself, but sharing it together.

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The Reckoning

As a child, I thought growing up meant becoming who everyone else wanted me to be. At home, I was constantly compared to other children, and before I knew it, I had started comparing myself too. At school, body shaming, bullying, and friendships I believed were genuine left their own quiet scars. I don’t remember feeling angry or wanting revenge. I remember feeling deeply sad. I spent countless days trapped inside my own thoughts, wondering what was wrong with me and why simply being myself never seemed enough. I wasn’t dreaming of success back then. I was just a child who wanted the freedom to laugh, create, explore, and simply feel accepted.

As I grew older, I thought achievement would finally answer the questions I had carried since childhood. There were moments when I believed I had finally reached the finish line, only for life to quietly move it somewhere else. There were setbacks that forced me to begin again, victories that felt far quieter than I had imagined, and seasons where I questioned whether I was moving forward at all. Looking back now, my journey reminds me of The Wild Goose Chase memoir, only mine was far less chaotic. Yet it taught me the very same lesson: the destination never changed me. The journey did. Every setback quietly shaped the person I was becoming, and every time I chose to stand back up, I realized resilience wasn’t something I had been searching for, it was something I had been becoming all along.

Today, I no longer want an average life. Every experience, every failure, every lesson, and every quiet reflection has slowly brought me to one place—clarity. For the first time in my life, I know who I want to become. Not because the world told me who I should be, but because I have finally found the person my younger self always hoped I would become.

And no, I don’t mean becoming another loud self-proclaimed “alpha” or “sigma” chasing validation through expensive things, borrowed confidence, or empty words. That has never been my definition of success. To me, a real man is someone who builds quietly. Someone whose character is greater than his reputation. A man who pursues excellence without sacrificing his kindness. A man who will still answer your call on his busiest day and ask, “How are you?” A man who dreams without forgetting where he came from. A man who remains emotionally present for the people he loves, because success should never come at the cost of becoming emotionally absent.

I want to build a life that feels like Hans Zimmer’s Flight. Not because it reaches extraordinary heights, but because every note reminds me that the sky is never given, it is earned. I don’t know how many battles still wait for me. I don’t know how many times life will ask me to begin again. But I know this: I will fight the wars that belong to me. I will fail. I will learn. I will rise again. Not to impress anyone. Not to prove anyone wrong. But so that one day, when I look back, the child who once wondered if he was enough can finally smile with quiet pride. Because the greatest form of glory was never fame. It was always the quiet respect earned through character, consistency, and the courage to keep becoming.

For most of my life, I never found myself defined by religion. The one belief that quietly stayed with me was humanity. Before we are known by our names, languages, cultures, or beliefs, we are first human. If there is one faith I choose to live by every single day, it is kindness, compassion, and the courage to stand beside another person when they need it most. To me, there has never been a religion greater than humanity.

If you’ve made it this far, then let me ask you for one thing. Let’s make a promise, not to me, but to ourselves. I haven’t reached the finish line either. I’m still learning. Still failing. Still rebuilding. Still becoming. But maybe that’s exactly the point. Maybe none of us were ever meant to have everything figured out before we began.

So if you’ve ever felt like you’ve fallen behind, if life has convinced you that your best days are already gone, let this be your reminder: there is still time. Time to change direction. Time to rewrite your story. Time to become the person you’ve spent years waiting to meet. Heroes aren’t remembered because they never fell. They’re remembered because they kept getting back up.

The world has never promised to be fair, and perhaps it never will. We’ll lose people. We’ll lose opportunities. We’ll make mistakes. We’ll collect scars we never asked for. But maybe those scars were never meant to make us weaker. Maybe they’re the proof that we chose to keep moving when stopping would’ve been easier.

So wherever you are in your story, keep going. Build your life. Build your character. Build something that outlives you. And if our paths ever cross again through another piece of writing, I hope we won’t meet as strangers wondering who we could become, but as two people still walking toward the version of ourselves we promised never to give up on, one ordinary day at a time.

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Conclusion

If this piece leaves you with anything, I hope it leaves you with this: your past doesn’t define your future. Your scars don’t diminish your worth. And no matter where you are today, your story is still unfolding.

There’s still time.

Rise.

Become who you were meant to be.

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Music While Writing This Article :

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Disclaimer

This article contains cinematic references, visuals, and background scores used solely as a medium of reflection, artistic interpretation, commentary, and storytelling. All referenced material remains the intellectual property of their respective creators.

Deep appreciation to the filmmakers, writers, cast, crew, musicians, and every creative mind behind Varshangalkku Shesham (2024) for crafting a story that goes far beyond cinema. Thank you for creating a film that reminds us of the value of dreams, friendship, second chances, and the quiet passage of time.

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