Seven years ago, I picked up a camera, not with the intention of becoming a director, but because of my deep, undeniable love for film. I embraced every opportunity that came my way, working on commercials, music videos, and various projects. With each new experience, my enthusiasm grew, and I realized that filmmaking wasn’t just a passion—it was a calling.

Over time, I’ve heard many stories, but none felt like mine to tell. So I waited—for the right story, the right timing, and the right team. As time passed, though, I began to feel a growing sense of urgency. I’ve always feared that those who have been supporting my craft might never get to see what I create, but I didn’t want to rush into just any story.

Then, as it often happens, some stories find you when you least expect them.

A conversation with a childhood friend introduced me to the ritual of Khali Khwaune. Its depth and history captivated me, and in that moment, I knew this was the story I had been waiting for. The concept brought me back to my roots, reminding me that my culture has always been inseparable from my work. My research led me to the people who carry out these rituals, and I came to understand that Khali is not just lore—it is a powerful form of transcendence. It represents a journey into the realm of the elements, an act designed to restore balance and create unity.

This film brings a personalized element to this communal ritual. The characters are inspired by the people I grew up with and the struggles that shaped them. It weaves together a narrative influenced by the community where my father was raised, with dialogues that echo its culture and traditions. In many ways, this film is a tribute to my father, for his continuous support, even when our relationship has been complicated.

It encapsulates everything I have learned so far, representing my journey and the lessons I’ve gathered along the way. Through this film, I hope to share my culture, my story, and the my experiences growing up in Nepal.