Joshua's Story
Every life is a story
Every life is a story, though most of us don’t notice we’re in one until something breaks, ends, or refuses to go our way. The Recoding Method™ wasn’t born in a classroom or a boardroom—it rose from the rubble of a life that looked promising on paper and kept collapsing in reality.
Before you meet the work, you should know the man who walked through its fire. This is his story.
Josh 1970
Josh 2025
I was born to a painter father and an unschooled mother.
I grew up not knowing the language of ambition. I still do not know it. I grew up thinking of survival and imagination. My father painted. My mother moved about in kitchen, always wondering, worrying. I think whatever I became started there—between colours and tears.
SIBLING DEATHS, ONE BY ONE..
My twin brother died in my mum’s womb. Thus I met death before I met life in the open world. Later, my younger brother died. Words became my way out. Journalism was my first doorway. Newspapers, magazines, tight deadlines, and long nights—I spent almost twenty years in that world. I didn't know back then that I was telling other people’s stories so I wouldn’t have to face my own.
I BECOME A MINOR CELEBRITY..
Then film came calling. In 2009, I wrote Ritu, a film that people in Kerala still remember. It was called “new generation cinema” before the label even existed. For a brief moment, it looked like the staircase was finally going up. I also wrote one of the ten stories in Kerala Cafe, directed by Ranjith. Those films opened doors that looked solid.
MY DARK WOODS BEGIN..
And then—one by one—they closed. Thirteen film projects and three web series that came in search of me, fell through over the next thirteen years. Top directors, good producers, committed actors. They came with passion, plans, and contracts. I eagerly welcomed each and came up with unique stories. They loved them all. But every single time, the projects collapsed. They died strange deaths—financiers vanished for other reasons, companies dissolved, egos burst, unfair contract deals popped up. A producer even kidnapped his partner's daughter and went into hiding. A rising star shaved his head and got banned. One went bankrupt because his previous film flopped. Another got engulfed in a land deal. Each time, I was the loser. None of it made any sense.
I LIVE ON BORROWED BREATH..
People say 'unlucky' as if it’s a passing cloud. This was something else—a long, slow unmaking of a decade and more. Each project fell through and took a piece of me with it. I stayed at home the whole time, feeding my family on faith and borrowed breath. All of my previous friends vanished. I was branded as a 'one-time wonder'. Slowly, quietly, I was forgotten.
There is a kind of silence that doesn’t come from peace, but from exhaustion. I reached that place.
LIGHT ENTERS..
That’s when Advaita and later A Course in Miracles entered my life—not as philosophy, but as medicine. They weren’t candles in darkness; they were the slow removal of the darkness itself. I didn’t 'find spirituality'; I was clawing my way back from the wreckage of ambition and found something that didn’t need applause to stay standing.
I didn’t become spiritual.
I became honest.
I AM GIVEN A NEW ROLE..
Over time, a strange alchemy began: the very years that broke me became the years that built another kind of strength. People started coming to me—not for movie scripts, but for clarity. For direction. For the kind of help that doesn’t come from theory, but from a life that has tasted both applause and ash.
I didn’t set out to become a mentor of change. I simply refused to waste the ruins. The Recoding Method™ was born out of that choice. It isn’t built on slogans or motivational fluff. It came from the question that sat in my chest for years: How do we not lose ourselves when everything we build collapses? And a deeper one: Can a life be rewritten from the inside out, without waiting for the world to behave in a different way?
Today, I teach not from a mountaintop, but from ground that cracked and healed. I work with people who are stuck, successful-but-empty, mid-fall, or quietly burning out. I don’t offer inspiration. I offer rewiring. I don’t preach hope. I help people change their inner code so life doesn’t keep repeating the same old pattern in a new outfit.
My parents died. I moved back to city from the suburbs. I live with my partner and our school-going daughter, while our son lives and works in Canada. I laugh. I dance. I hug more.
One film made me visible. Then, sixteen failures made me useful. Once I felt like coal. Now, after passing through all those fires, I feel stronger and shinier within.
If my life has taught me anything, it is this: what collapses us can also recode us—if we let it. I’m not here to impress you. I’m here because I refused to fall broken, and now I help others do the same.
