Alone

In the bustling shadows of Bangalore, two sisters entered the world bound not only by flesh but by an unbreakable promise. Anjana and Sanjana were conjoined at birth, their lives intertwined from the first heartbeat, shaping a bond that felt both intimate and inexorable. Growing up, the promise to remain together became the cornerstone of their identity, weaving through family gatherings, whispered confidences, and the ordinary rhythms of a city that never sleeps.

A sudden tragedy shatters that shared path, leaving Sanjana to navigate a world suddenly half‑empty. Grief settles like a dense monsoon fog, and the once‑familiar streets now echo with an unsettling sense of absence. As she attempts to piece together a life that feels fragmented, subtle signs begin to surface—fleeting whispers, cold drafts, and moments when the line between memory and presence blurs.

Complicating her mourning is Kabir, Sanjana’s husband, whose practical outlook clashes with the increasingly uncanny sensations surrounding her. Their relationship, already strained by long‑distance longing and unspoken tensions, becomes a crucible for deeper questions about love, loss, and the limits of rational comfort. When Sanjana turns to spiritual guidance, the atmosphere grows thick with an otherworldly curiosity, hinting at forces that may linger beyond the veil of the ordinary.

The film unfolds with a lingering, atmospheric dread, balancing the intimate turmoil of sisterly love with a haunting, almost palpable sense of the unseen. It invites viewers into a world where the past refuses to stay silent, and where the very act of remembering may summon more than just memories. In this moody, psychological landscape, each breath of Bangalore’s rain‑slick streets feels like a reminder that some promises echo long after the bodies that made them are gone.

Last Updated: October 05, 2025 at 16:57