Royshyamaprasad

Dard (2024) doesn’t mess around—it dives right into the raw stuff most movies tiptoe around. Set in a town that honestly feels like it could be anywhere, the film follows Royshyamaprasad as he stumbles through heartbreak, regret, and those weird moments where life just straight-up sucker punches you. There’s this underlying ache that clings to everything, kinda like humidity in July, and it just won’t let up. You’ll see him trying to piece his world back together, but every time he glues one part, another cracks. Relationships? Complicated as hell. Family? Yeah, that’s a whole other mess. Friends? Sometimes they help, sometimes they make things worse, just like real life. The storytelling doesn’t hold your hand. It’s messy—conversations trail off, people say the wrong thing, and sometimes there’s just silence. Royshyamaprasad’s pain isn’t the melodramatic, over-the-top stuff you usually get. It’s quieter, heavy, and way more familiar than you want to admit. The cinematography, too—man, it’s not flashy, but it lingers on faces and empty rooms, letting you soak up all the awkward, tense energy. You end up rooting for him, even if you’re yelling at the screen sometimes. Dard doesn’t wrap things up in a pretty bow. It leaves you with questions, some hope, and that weird feeling in your chest that sticks around long after the credits roll.