Let’s start with a fun one...If your design journey were a song or a movie, what would it be and why?
If my design journey were a song, it would be “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. It includes a bit of everything—drama, calm moments, and wild energy. That reflects the way my path has unfolded. I didn’t take a straight route; instead, it has been full of unexpected turns, experiments, and learning as I go.
If my journey were a movie, I would choose “Everything Everywhere All At Once.” As a designer, I’m constantly jumping between different types of projects. Sometimes I work on a music festival, other times a wedding, or even a fashion collaboration. It feels like living in multiple worlds at once, and I truly enjoy that chaos.
You’ve built an incredible career without any formal design education. How did you navigate the industry, gain skills, and prove yourself in a competitive field?
I come from a traditional Kashmiri household, and like many other businesses in Kashmir, my father’s business focused on selling shawls and carpets. Every few months, artisans would come to our home with new collections after discussing their ideas with him. Watching them transform those ideas into intricate and beautiful pieces was truly fascinating to me. It made me believe that creativity must come from within.
I remember starting by copying their patterns and sharing my rough sketches, even though they weren’t very good at the time. However, my curiosity kept growing, and I continued to draw. I began dismantling old toys, taking out motors, and building random contraptions. In school, I started assisting my arts teacher with set designs for our annual day functions. I just wanted to be involved in anything creative—everything except studying, to be honest
At some point, I started a band. We focused on performing Green Day and alternative rock covers at local gigs. That phase of my life was incredibly wild. I failed 11th grade twice and barely managed to finish school. Eventually, I enrolled in a college where I had only 47% attendance, as it didn’t require attending physical classes and was primarily exam-based. By that time, I was touring with my band across the country, participating in Battle of the Bands, where we lost most competitions but managed to win a few.
To support myself, I started giving guitar lessons to kids in the neighbourhood. My parents didn’t see this as a “career,” so I had to figure things out on my own.
It all started with curiosity. Although I never earned a formal design degree, I was always drawn to visuals, music, and spaces—anything that told a story or created an experience. I learned through hands-on experience, with YouTube being my primary teacher. My journey involved a lot of trial and error, asking questions, and saying yes to opportunities even when I didn’t fully know how to execute them. I figured things out as I went along.
During my time in the band, I began designing posters for our gigs. Since I could draw and paint, I embraced that skill. I would print the posters and put them up all over colleges and venues. This caught the attention of other bands, leading to opportunities for me to create album covers, merchandise, and flyers for musicians, DJs, and anyone seeking something unique. It felt like a natural extension of my involvement in the music scene I was already a part of.
In 2009, my work got noticed by a music magazine called Rock Street Journal. They gave me my first break as an intern. Over the next four years, I went from intern to junior designer, then senior, and finally art director. I didn’t know half the software when I started, they were using the dreadful Coreldraw 4 back then haha... But I learned everything on the job.
YouTube was my guide, and everything was trial and error. I didn’t know anything about layouts, fonts, typography, or print...But I figured it out.
Being a musician myself, it was the perfect job. RSJ also had its own events wing, so I got to design for festivals, work backstage, and sometimes even sneak my band into the lineup. I even got to interview some of the biggest bands I looked up to. Looking back, it all just came together in the most unexpected, but perfect way.
What would you tell a young designer debating between self-learning and formal education?
The approach to learning varies for each person. Formal education offers structure and community, which can be beneficial if you thrive in that setting. However, for hands-on learners, self-learning can be just as effective.
The key is to stay curious and consistent. Whether you attend design school or learn on your own, effort is essential—experiment, fail, learn, and grow. Most of my knowledge has come from on-the-job experience, YouTube, asking questions, and practice.
There’s no single correct path. What matters is your desire to learn and create. So, choose a route, stay open to new experiences, and keep moving forward.
Without design school critiques and structured feedback, how did you refine your work?
Honestly, I never felt I missed out on formal critiques or feedback. In fact, not following a conventional path helped me view design differently. Without specific rules, I experimented freely.
I learned a lot by recreating things I liked—posters, artwork, and packaging—using the tools I had. This process taught me about colour harmony, shape balance, and what looks good. It wasn’t about perfection but about exploration.
I wasn’t seeking feedback; I was focused on what made sense to me. This freedom ultimately helped me develop my own style.
From art directing a music magazine to creating immersive spaces for global brands, your career has been anything but conventional. What drove you to explore design in so many different forms?
To be honest, curiosity and the desire to break monotony drive me. Before starting my studio, I had two day jobs where, despite designing new things, the structure and process remained unchanged, leading to quick monotony.
I was the type of person who returned home eager to try new things. What’s now called “moonlighting” was something I did without knowing the term. I took on freelance gigs for fun, exploring creativity without fully understanding it, but it felt right
Every new project offered me a chance to learn, which has always been important to me as a self-taught designer. This philosophy remains true today. I continue to work on new challenges, like designing entire concert experiences for musicians, which has become a key aspect of our work.
Interior design is similar; although I’m not an architect, we embraced the challenge and now design complete spaces. Saying yes, especially outside your comfort zone, keeps the journey exciting.
Your Kashmiri heritage and Delhi upbringing influence your aesthetic. How do these cultural elements shape your work, and do you consciously integrate them into your designs?
I was born and raised in Delhi, but my roots are in Kashmir, and both places have heavily influenced my worldview and design approach. Delhi exposed me to a rich tapestry of cultures, chaos, music, and art. It is here that I discovered much of my creative identity, surrounded by such vibrant energy and contrast.
Kashmir, on the other hand, is where I felt a deeper connection to craftsmanship, attention to detail, and patience. Although I didn’t grow up there full-time, I spent a lot of time visiting, and that aspect of my heritage was always very present. I grew up surrounded by shawls, carpets, and artisans who would come to our home with new pieces. Watching them work so intricately by hand left a lasting impression on me.
Kashmir provided me with a profound sense of contrast. The political situation there made me realise how different life could have been, which became a significant motivator for me to pursue something meaningful, especially knowing that I had opportunities that many others did not. Although I was not the best student, I was clear about wanting to do something unique, and along the way, I believe I accomplished that. Being featured in Forbes 30 Under 30 as the first person from my state was a proud moment, not just for me, but also for my home. Kashmir’s breathtaking landscape instilled in me a lasting love for nature that still inspires my work today.
Both Delhi and Kashmir shape my aesthetic; Delhi offers hustle and exposure, while Kashmir provides depth, detail, and a strong connection to craft and nature.
You’ve worked with Adidas, Apple Beats, Lollapalooza, and the India Cricket Team, even designing for Rohit Sharma. How do you maintain your creative identity with such diverse brands?
Staying true to my story is key. Every brand has its own voice and goals, but I aim to find the sweet spot where our worlds meet.
I don’t believe in forcing a “style” on everything; I focus on the narrative. For a music festival, sports jersey, or product drop, we always ask what the story is or what emotion we want to create. Once that’s clear, we build from there, using our unique perspective.
I enjoy working across different formats—whether it’s a stage, a packaging box, or a jersey. This variety keeps me engaged, but I always approach each project with the same mindset: bring in meaning, make it personal, and make it feel alive.
Many brands approach us for our unique perspective, allowing me to remain authentic while adapting to their world.
Gen Z designers often struggle with self-doubt and impostor syndrome, especially those without formal training. Did you ever face these challenges, and how did you overcome them?
Yeah, of course, I’ve definitely felt self-doubt, as everyone does. Over time, I’ve learned to see it as beneficial. It keeps me grounded, prompts me to double-check my work, encourages curiosity, and helps me avoid complacency.
As a self-taught individual, I often hear that voice questioning, “Are you doing this right?” Instead of letting it hold me back, I use it to motivate myself to learn more, try harder, and stay open. It’s a reminder not to get complacent.
Social media is a major platform for creatives. How has it impacted your career, and should young designers prioritise building their online presence?
Social media has been crucial to my journey since I didn’t come from a traditional design background. From the Orkut to early Facebook days, I created and shared my work not for likes, but to express myself and gauge reactions.
I believe in being consistent. It doesn’t have to be perfect; what matters is showing up and sharing your work. I once hand-painted an old jacket for fun, posted it online, and it blew up, going viral. Suddenly, everyone wanted one!
One post opened doors to collaborations with brands like Levi’s and adidas, leading to designing jerseys and eventually working with the Indian cricket team—all from one idea.
We consistently share our work across major platforms, spending time crafting engaging social media content. By creating mockups and reels that showcase our process, we focus on storytelling rather than just visuals. This approach serves not only as a portfolio but also as an effective marketing tool that generates real work and sales.
So yeah, I’d definitely say young designers should invest in building their online presence. It’s one of the most powerful tools we have today to share, connect, and grow.
The design industry is rapidly evolving with AI and digital tools transforming creativity. What are your thoughts on these changes and the future of design?
Honestly, I’m not a big fan of AI in design. While it’s fast and flashy, it takes away the crucial human touch and process. The back-and-forth, iterations, and breakthroughs are what truly foster creativity and character in the work.
We are slowing down our brains by relying too heavily on AI for everything. This dependency is stifling our creative thinking as we prioritise speed and quantity over quality. Design is not solely about appearance; it also involves functionality, how it feels to use, and how it integrates into real-life situations.
For example, in spatial design, I can’t simply take an AI-generated image and construct it. While a machine might produce something that looks appealing, the key questions remain: Is it structurally sound? Will it stand? Can I obtain a stability certificate for it? The answer is no. This is where human thinking plays a crucial role. We need to understand space, scale, materials, safety, and how people will actually interact with the design.
There’s a running joke about clients not knowing what they want, so how can they explain it to an AI? That’s why we’ll always have a role. In larger, complex projects with many exceptions—legacy issues, real-world constraints, client emotions, and tight timelines—AI can’t manage that. It’s too intricate and fundamentally human.
Using AI doesn’t make you an artist; it’s outsourcing. It’s like bringing groceries to a chef and calling yourself one when the meal is served. AI does the heavy lifting while you just give instructions. Real art comes from skill, emotion, and practice, not merely typing prompts for a machine to mimic existing works.
I’m not against technology, but I support keeping the essence of design alive. Tools should help us think deeper, not just faster, for the sake of it.
Collaboration is essential in your work across fashion, music, and commercial spaces. What makes a great collaboration, and how do you select exciting projects?
We’ve worked on a diverse range of unique projects, which has become our USP. Often, we’ve ventured into areas unfamiliar to us, but we’ve always figured it out by partnering with others who have the necessary skills. Our innovative ideas and unique perspective have attracted people, allowing us to work across various formats like fashion, music, spaces, and weddings. We’re fortunate to choose projects that excite us. If a project doesn’t offer new learning or feels repetitive, we prefer to pass.
As a lean boutique, we dedicate our energy to fresh, creatively challenging projects with fun clients. This was the case with the experiential stores we designed for Almost Gods. The brand’s story drove our design, allowing us to create a spatial identity that extended their world. Collaborating in a trusting environment to build something meaningful is what truly excites us.
Your career has grown from niche creative projects to massive global collaborations. What were some key turning points that fuelled this growth?
Key moments have significantly shaped my journey. A pivotal one was designing for the music scene—posters, album art, and merch for indie bands. This led to my first big break at Rock Street Journal, starting as an intern and becoming the art director. The experience taught me layout, branding, and events, building my confidence for freelance projects. Many bands now reach out for posters and album covers, and working on music festivals remains a major part of my identity.
My second job at Scenografia Sumant in 2014 was a major turning point. Working with Sumant Jayakrishnan as a mentor provided the design education I never had, transitioning me from 2D to a 3D world, where I learned about space, scale, and physical environments. Representing India at the London Design Biennale in 2016, surrounded by innovative installations from 36 countries, solidified my desire to be in this creative field.
While I was working, self-doubt lingered, but being recognised by Forbes in 2021 validated our efforts. It showed that we were doing real work on an international stage, boosting our confidence to keep pushing forward.
Key projects that transformed everything included designing Isha Ambani’s Sangeet in 2018, serving as art director for Akash Ambani’s wedding in 2019, and creating the Indian cricket team jerseys, which elevated my profile significantly.
What’s a design myth or industry rule you love breaking?
I believe that there’s no need to adhere to a specific “design rulebook” to produce quality work. Coming from a non-traditional design background, I never learned these so-called rules and, as a result, never felt compelled to follow them. To me, design is about feeling rather than formulas.
Since when does creativity require rules? That defeats its purpose. Creativity should be fluid, messy, and unpredictable—that’s what I love about it.
I enjoy mixing unexpected styles, textures, and ideas. Good design doesn’t have to be minimal or trend-based; sometimes, it’s the chaotic elements that make something truly stand out.
At the end of the day, if a design evokes an emotion or makes you feel something, then it has fulfilled its purpose. If breaking a few rules was necessary to achieve that, then that’s perfectly fine.
What advice would you give to Gen Z designers who don’t have formal training but want to make it in the industry?
Don’t wait for permission. The industry has no gatekeeper anymore—you have the tools and freedom to create your own path. Focus on curiosity, build unique things that reflect you, and share them, even if they’re imperfect.
Not knowing the “right way” can be your greatest strength. It allows you to do things differently. I’ve built my career figuring things out on the fly, so embrace the chaos, trust your instincts, and keep experimenting. One project or moment can change everything—just keep moving until it finds you.
