I’m 25 now, but for almost my entire life, my father was just a name on my birth certificate. My earliest memory of him is blurry—someone tall, carrying me once, and then gone. My parents split when I was still in diapers. I grew up hearing little about him, just fragments from relatives: “He used to work in a travel agency in Bengaluru,” “He liked long drives,” “He had a loud laugh.” But to me, he was a ghost. This year, something changed. I don’t know if it was turning 25, or the quiet ache of watching my friends share photos with their dads, but one night I decided I had to try. I wrote a post on Reddit—not expecting much. I didn’t even have a current photo of him. Just his name, an old city, and my hope. Within hours, strangers began replying. Some sent messages with possible leads, others offered to make phone calls in Tamil, or dig through old records. I couldn’t believe how many people cared. A user from Chennai messaged me saying, “I think I’ve found someone who matches your