Review: Finding Nabi (2025)

Films about social media usually choose one of two traps. They either fear it as a menace or worship it as salvation. Rukshana Tabassum’s Finding Nabi, produced by LXL Ideas, takes a more measured approach. It turns its gaze to the tender, uncertain years of adolescence as a period when we are most vulnerable. It is a precarious phase, when the longing to belong collides with the unsettling ease of incorrect choices that digital platforms so readily amplify.

The story of the short film centres around Kian, a young man forced to confront the consequences of his online comment from the past. A promising student, who is on the verge of admission to a prestigious college, has his future collapse when the institution uncovers a digital record of his teenage self. His reputation is reduced to a boy who built his identity by humiliating his friend with cruel comments. What once seemed like harmless fun returns as a ghost from the past, and Kian is shaken by the weight of those actions. He embarks on a journey to repair the harm he inflicted on his classmate, Nabi.

In the age of endless memory, we are all archivists of our worst selves. Finding Nabi understands this and refuses either to excuse Kian or to demonise him. Tabassum approaches the subject with compassion, not condemnation. She recognises that the digital world is not a realm apart but an extension of our lives, with consequences as real and permanent as anything etched in stone. This is not a film interested in assigning blame, nor is it particularly concerned with whether Kian is guilty or not. Instead, it probes deeper, asking why a boy like him, who is intelligent, confident, seemingly ordinary, might end up in a situation like this.

Redemption arcs in cinema are too often staged as hollow performances, designed to absolve rather than confront. Kian’s journey is different. It is not about reclaiming innocence but about acknowledging harm. It begins with a video posted online, a quiet announcement of his search for Nabi. When the two finally meet after years, the film resists easy catharsis. What we see is Kian’s unease, his shame, and, beyond that, Nabi’s resilience. Nabi has endured, grown stronger, yet carries scars that remain inseparable from his past. The film refuses to flatter us with the illusion that apologies can undo what has been done. Instead, it insists on a harder truth. The first step toward confronting our actions is to face what we have done without expecting absolution.

The performances are understated, never tipping into melodrama. Hriday Powdel plays Kian with quiet conviction, his remorse believable precisely because it is not overstated. As Nabi, Arman Misra carries her role with lived-in authenticity, embodying both the weight of hurt and the quiet strength of survival.

In the end, Finding Nabi is not a tale of redemption but of responsibility. Kian’s future, whether bright or uncertain, matters less than his willingness to face the wreckage he left behind. In confronting his past, he discovers something more enduring than success: an awareness of the life he once diminished. He also comes to recognise the humanity he can no longer deny. His courage lies not in erasing his mistakes but in acknowledging them. The film delivers this truth without sermon or sentimentality. It reminds us that while the internet never forgets, memory itself is not the enemy. What endures, more than scars or apologies, is the fundamental need to be seen, acknowledged, and respected.

Finding Nabi is part of the competitive section at the 17th International Documentary and Short Film Festival of Kerala.