Sarangheayo – Korean-Indian Love Story

   Disclaimer:  This is a work of fanfiction inspired by Sumedh Mudgalkar’s public persona. All events and incidents are fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Episode 4 — The Night Unfolds (Sumedh’s POV) Her words echoed inside my skull. Not an accident. I stared at Hae-rin, the letter still trembling in my hands. “What do you mean? What happened to me? What happened to Ji-woo?” She sat down carefully, as if weighing every word. “You don’t remember, so I’ll start from the beginning.” Flashback: Seoul, Five Years Ago I had flown to Korea as part of an international cultural exchange. Mumbai’s best young dancers had been invited to perform at the Seoul International Dance Fest . At first, it was just competition—bright lights, endless rehearsals, fierce rivals. And then I met her. Ji-woo. She wasn’t a contestant. She was a volunteer translator for the Indian team. But she knew more about dance than most performers. Her curiosity was endless, her laughter contagiou...

  Disclaimer:  This is a work of fanfiction inspired by Sumedh Mudgalkar’s public persona. All events and incidents are fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Episode 3 — The Stranger from Seoul (Sumedh’s POV) The smell of antiseptic had become my prison. Every beep of the monitor was a chain. So when the doctor finally said the words “You’re fit to be discharged” , my chest filled with a strange mix of relief… and fear. Two years in a coma. Five years erased. And I was stepping back into a world I no longer recognized. Punyakar drove me home. Mumbai looked the same, yet utterly different. Skyscrapers had grown taller, billboards flashed faces I didn’t know, and the music on the radio carried rhythms I couldn’t follow. Inside my apartment, dust coated everything. My dance trophies, photographs, posters—each one a fragment of a man I barely remembered being. I walked slowly to the mirror. The man staring back was leaner, older. His eyes had shadows no stage l...

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fanfiction inspired by Sumedh Mudgalkar’s public persona. All events and incidents are fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Episode 2 — The Photograph (Sumedh’s POV) The doctor’s words kept ringing in my ears. Seven years. Two years of coma. Five years gone. But something else echoed louder than all of that. Saranghaeyo. Why did that voice still cling to me like a shadow? The next morning, sunlight spilled through the hospital curtains. Punyakar sat beside my bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked older than I remembered—lines of worry etched on his face—but his smile was the same when he noticed me awake. “Breakfast?” he asked softly, holding out a tray. I pushed it away. “No. I need answers.” He sighed. “I knew this was coming.” “Tell me everything. From the moment I… disappeared.” Punyakar hesitated. Then he pulled something out of his backpack. A folder. He opened it and slid a photograph onto my blanket. I froze. It...

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction inspired by Sumedh Mudgalkar’s public persona. All events and incidents are fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Chapter 1 — The Voice (Sumedh’s POV) I was standing in the middle of a road. Or… at least, I thought it was a road. The darkness around me was so heavy that it felt like ink had swallowed the world. No moon. No stars. No houses. No trees. Just an endless stretch of black tar beneath my feet. My breath echoed in the silence. “Where… am I?” I whispered, my voice trembling. I looked around, hoping for something—anything—that made sense. That’s when I heard it. “Saranghaeyo… Saranghaeyo… Saranghaeyo…” The voice was soft at first, almost a whisper in the wind. But with each repetition, it grew louder. Closer. Surrounding me from every direction. I spun around, searching for the source. Nothing. Just that voice. It kept repeating, faster now, until the sound became sharp and piercing, like glass in my ears. I pressed my p...