In the southern part of India, tucked away in the green folds of Kerala, there was a peaceful village called Veergram. Life here was simple. People smiled easily, helped each other, and many practiced Kalaripayattu—an ancient martial art passed down from their ancestors.
It was a sunny morning when the whole village gathered outside a house at the center of Veergram. Curious faces waited with excitement.
The door opened, and a woman stepped out, his face glowing with pride.
"It's a girl!" she shouted. "A beautiful baby girl!"
Cheers filled the air. The man ran back inside, his eyes wide with joy. He knelt beside his tired wife, gently holding her hand.
"She's… perfect," he whispered, looking at the sleeping baby. "How can someone be this beautiful? She looks like she was carved by the gods themselves…"
His wife smiled weakly but warmly. "She's ours."
Unable to hold back his excitement, he lifted the baby carefully and stepped outside again.
"Look, everyone! This is my daughter. Look at her face—tell me she's not born to shine!"
The villagers looked on with wonder. "She's like a goddess," someone whispered. "That glow… that innocence."
Of course, she was the mayor's daughter. But it wasn't just that—something about her truly felt special.
The baby was named Anvika.
Years passed. Anvika grew up into a clever and spirited girl. But she wasn't just sweet—she was also quite a troublemaker.
One hot afternoon, a loud voice echoed through the streets of Veergram.
"Anvikaaa! Stop right there!"
A little girl darted out of her house, barefoot, laughing and crying at the same time.
"I'm sorry, Mom! I didn't mean to break it!"
Behind her came her mother, holding a slipper in one hand and pure fury in her eyes.
"That was my favorite teacup! I told you not to play inside the house!"
Villagers watched with amusement as the chase continued through the dusty lanes.
"There they go again," one man chuckled.
"She must've broken something again," another laughed.
"Still, she's got a good heart," an old woman smiled. "Even if she's a little wild."
Anvika zigzagged between carts and cows until finally, her mother caught her by the arm.
"Got you!" her mother growled.
"Please, Mom! Forgive me this time! Look—my cute face, na? I know you can't stay mad at me!"
Her mom stared at her sternly… and then sighed.
"This time, no food for you. That's your punishment."
"What?! That's worse than getting hit!" Anvika cried dramatically.
Just then, her father walked in. "Now, now, that's enough," he said, chuckling. "She's just a child."
Her mother shook her head but smiled anyway. "One day, this girl is going to turn my hair white."
Anvika's life was like that—chaotic, full of laughter, love, and lessons. Her parents loved her dearly, though they were strict at times.
Being born to a martial artist mother and a respected father, the villagers thought she would grow up tough. But her parents had other plans.
"No martial arts for you," her father said.
"Why not?" Anvika asked.
"You'll get bruised and hurt. We want you to live a normal, peaceful life. You're our princess."
She wasn't happy about it, but she obeyed. Instead of training with sticks and swords, she went to school like every other child. Though… she hated it.
One morning, she sat in class, staring out the window.
"I wish a horse would just come and take me away," she whispered.
Her friend laughed. "You and your silly dreams. You're like a kid."
"What's wrong with that?" Anvika grinned. "Being a kid is the best. No stress, no worries, only fun!"
They laughed together, sharing stories and secrets. But reality wasn't always easy.
A surprise test arrived one day. Anvika hadn't studied a word.
"I'm doomed," she whispered to herself.
She didn't cheat. She just wrote whatever she remembered. A week later, the results came in.
"I passed?" she gasped. "I actually passed!"
But when she got home, her mother was waiting at the door.
"You passed—but your marks were low."
Slam.
"Aaaah! Sorry, Mom!"
"That's it. No more cartoons for a week!"
"This is abuse!" Anvika shouted playfully.
But even through scolding and punishments, there was love in her home. Her father always balanced things out with gentle smiles and secret sweets under the table.
And so, childhood passed. The little girl who once ran barefoot through the village was now a young woman.
Anvika turned twenty-one.
Her smile was still the same. Her eyes still sparkled with curiosity. But something had changed—life had become quieter, more serious.
One evening, a family arrived with a marriage proposal.
The screen fades to black as the story prepares to enter a new, darker chapter.
This is where everything starts to change.