I'm learning Carnatic music and Bharatnatyam, two ancient forms that are teaching me that depth requires patience, and mastery requires surrender. I'm experimenting with resin, cement, and semi-precious stones in the studio. I'm teaching Fine Arts privately. I got married in 2025. Life is fuller and more rooted than it has ever been.
Bhavkala is now moving fully online —meeting global patrons, supporting Indian artists, and growing into what it always was meant to be.
I built the exhibition I wished had existed in 2021. Bhavkala Collective launched at Niv Art Centre, Saket — a multi-artist show with no gatekeeping, no commission, and no compromises. Artists paid per space, not per artwork. QR code donation boxes let visitors support artists directly. Merchandise, originals, prints — all welcome. Over 20 artists, 500+ visitors, ₹1.2 lakh in revenue. But the real number that mattered: every artist who exhibited walked away with their dignity intact.
I went to Goa and started selling art at flea markets. I did an internship. But more than the work, it was the ecosystem that changed me. In Goa, artists sustain themselves through community, engagement, and direct support from people who simply love art. I saw art in every market, every corner. Something in me rearranged itself. The experience became the blueprint for Bhavkala Collective — an exhibition model where every artist matters, and every visitor can be a patron.
I exhibited Kailash at the Indian Habitat Centre in December 2021 — and what followed was a lesson I didn't expect. The organiser charged artists to exhibit, then pressured me to sell at half price, then suggested my work could simply be copied for the client. That audacity clarified everything. The art world had a system problem — and I already had a vision for something better. That year, I named it: Bhavkala. The logo, the brand, the purpose — it all took form.
I chose journalism over an arts degree intentionally — I knew I'd need to understand storytelling, branding, and communication to build what I imagined. During this time, I also entered the modelling world in Delhi NCR, working with leading designers. I travelled through Himachal Pradesh, which revealed how rich and underrecognised India's cultural art ecosystems truly are. In the studio, I discovered oil painting — and fell in love completely. Some mediums you never go back from.
I started meditating at 16, and that changed how I experienced everything — especially art. I competed in music competitions, learned guitar, and scored 100 in Fine Arts on my CBSE boards through practice that felt more like prayer than study. By 18, I was composing impromptu music from pure presence. I called that state Bhav Kala. I believe that the deeper you go into a medium, the more it raises your consciousness. I could live a richer life through it.
I grew up in Lucknow surrounded by Kathak, Hindustani classical music, and art in everyday life. My mother — a fashion designer and singer — was my first teacher without ever trying to be. Watching her create made me understand that making something from nothing is its own form of devotion. I was always near colours, always near music. Art wasn't something I chose. It was something I recognised in myself, early and without question.
