9998

I’ve had this film idea about reincarnation for a long time—an idea I’ve been writing and exploring through questions I couldn’t quite answer.

If a soul returns in a different body, are they still the same person? Would they know why they came back? Did they leave something unfinished in a past life? Are they being punished by being forced to live again? Or is it something much simpler?

For a long time, I didn’t know how to end the story. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the ending that felt true.

Then, a few weeks ago, my father passed away.
I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. When he died, I felt almost nothing. Not anger. Not sadness. Just emptiness.

I later learned that he had been sick around the same time I had begun writing this story. He had kept his illness from the family, and I had no idea.

Over the past few weeks, I took everything I was carrying—the anger, frustration, sadness, confusion, and pain—and poured it into the script. And somehow, by finishing it, I began to let go of those feelings.

Looking back at the story now, I realize that I may have been searching for an answer without knowing the question I was really asking.

Is reincarnation real?
Where do we really go when we die?
Is there a heaven?

I have my own beliefs. Above all, I have my faith. But this story isn't meant to prove what happens after we die. It's about what we leave behind. It's about the love we carry with us.

And perhaps, if reincarnation is real, it is about the possibility that love is the one thing that can survive across lifetimes? I'd like to believe so.