[Editor's Note: AJP is proud to announce the winners of Korea-India Essay Contest on the theme of "Our Shared Moments and Future in One Frame in joint sponsorship with the Swami Vivekananda Cultural Centre in Korea and the Embassy of India, Seoul.]
SEOUL, May 15 (AJP) - Winter of 2019, Found in White Silence
One winter day, when worries about my future had reached even the tips of my toes, I found myself wandering through Bukchon Hanok Village as if I were being pulled there by something unseen.
The roofs of the hanok houses, covered in white snow, seemed to quietly cover my complicated thoughts as well. As I walked through the cold air, I suddenly remembered a day from early January 2019. It was just as freezing as today. That was the day I met my Indian friend, Hiral.
A Friendship That Began with a Camera Shutter
At the time, I was still a high school student. Hiral, who was traveling alone, shyly asked me to take her picture. Even now, I clearly remember her bright smile through the camera lens against the snowy hanok village.
I became her guide for the day, walking together through the narrow alleys of Bukchon. My English was not very good, so I could not make perfect sentences, but I tried my best to explain the beauty of Korean culture with sincerity in every word. She smiled shyly as she talked about how much she liked K-pop, and during those moments, I realized something important.
To a high school student who felt uncertain about the future, she showed me that the world was wide and that people could still connect with each other, even across great distances.
Before parting ways, we exchanged Instagram accounts, and our connection became much deeper than I expected. During the pandemic especially, video calls became our only way of staying close. She showed me everyday life in India through the screen, introducing me to Indian food and culture one by one. Sometimes she even cooked Korean ramen herself while laughing and saying we should meet again someday.
Wanting to feel closer to her culture, I began visiting Indian restaurants in Dongdaemun. As I tried tandoori chicken, curry, naan, and lassi, I imagined the taste of the home she missed.
But in 2024, our connection suddenly disappeared. Her Instagram account was hacked, and the friendship we had built for almost five years was lost overnight. Even the messages we exchanged while comforting each other during the difficult days of COVID-19 vanished in an instant.
Still, that powerful experience of meeting and losing someone became a compass in my life.
The Future I Dream of as an Anthropology Student
One of the most surprising things while talking with Hiral was discovering the strange similarities between Korean and Tamil, her native language from South India.
Not only did Tamil use the same sentence order as Korean — subject, object, and verb — but many everyday words sounded surprisingly alike. Family words such as “mom,” “dad,” and “older sister” felt familiar. Even words for body parts sounded similar.
What shocked me most was learning that even expressions used with children — playful words like comforting sounds and baby-talk phrases — existed in both languages in very similar ways. At that moment, our friendship no longer felt like simple coincidence. It felt like something connected by history itself.
These feelings also reminded me of historical traces connecting Korea and India from long ago: the stone pagoda said to have been brought from India by Queen Heo Hwang-ok, the twin-fish symbol found near King Suro’s tomb, and research suggesting similarities between ancient remains found in Gimhae and people from South India’s Tamil region.
To me, these were not just historical facts. They felt like proof that the emotions and understanding we shared had roots stretching back thousands of years.
Though we were born in different countries, we shared similar emotions, language, and history.
Because of this experience, I decided to study anthropology. I now dream of becoming a researcher who studies the historical relationship between Korean and Tamil. What began as a wish to reconnect with a lost friend has grown into a dream of rediscovering the forgotten ties between two countries.
I want to continue studying the deep cultural similarities between Korea and India and share them with more people.
The Day We Meet Again
Whenever I return to Bukchon, I sometimes feel as if Hiral might suddenly appear from somewhere beyond the stone walls. Maybe it is because the gratitude I never fully expressed and the pure feelings from that time still remain there.
Even though our online connection has been lost, I still dream of meeting her again someday on a street somewhere in India.
The friendship may have been interrupted, but the countless conversations we shared and the warmth of those memories have not disappeared.
As I wait for the day we meet again, I want to continue recording and sharing the deep cultural connection between Korea and India.
Remembering Hiral, the Diamond in My Life
Her name, “Hiral,” means “diamond.”
And truly, she was one of the brightest diamonds in my life.
I hope that the friendship once buried beneath the white snow of Bukchon will bloom again someday, becoming part of a future where Korea and India embrace each other more deeply.
If I ever meet her again in India, I want to tell her this with my brightest smile:
“My Hiral, because of you, I was able to see a much bigger world.”
More lasting than a broken Instagram follow button are the history, language, and emotions we shared together.
And so, I quietly repeat the words I hope to say to her someday again:
“Namaste, long time no see.”
*The author, Gu Jun-hee, is based in Korea. The author's writing was submitted in Korean, and was translated into English by AI.
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