Born into many worlds..
I was born and brought up in Calcutta, a city that has shaped almost everything about the way I think. Growing up in North Calcutta meant history wasn't something I read in textbooks. It surrounded me. Old houses with stories etched into their walls. Streets where generations had lived side by side. Addas that could stretch for hours. A city that celebrates art, literature, cinema, music and debate as naturally as breathing. Home was just as rich with stories. My parents come from different cultures and different faiths, and growing up in an interfaith family meant I never learnt to see differences as barriers. My father's roots trace back to Maharashtra and South India, while my mother's family comes from Uttar Pradesh, and Calcutta. Our home was a blend of languages, traditions, festivals, food and perspectives. Rather than feeling pulled in different directions, I learnt to embrace them all. It taught me that identity isn't about choosing one culture over another, it's about carrying pieces of each with you. Looking back, I think that's where my openness, adaptability and deep respect for people from all walks of life come from. Creativity, too, was simply a part of everyday life. My paternal grandfather was a gifted musician, while my maternal grandmother was a trained dancer. My father still sketches and paints purely for the joy of creating, and my mother always dreamt of becoming a fashion designer, filling our home with handmade crafts, colours and ideas. Without realising it, I inherited a little bit from everyone. As a child, I spent hours drawing, painting, making craft projects, dancing, writing stories, and trying anything that allowed me to create something from nothing. I was a shy kid growing up, and Bharatnatyam dance classes became the first place where I truly found my voice. It gave me the confidence to express myself without having to say a word, and to this day it remains one of the purest forms of joy in my life. I'm also an only child and the eldest among all my cousins which meant I grew up taking responsibility and learning leadership skills earlier than most. Both my parents worked, so afternoons often meant coming home to an empty house, learning to cook simple meals, figuring things out on my own, and becoming independent long before I realised it. Looking back, I don't think I grew up in one world. I grew up in many. And I think that's what made me endlessly curious. Even today, those childhood interests haven't really changed. I still dance whenever I can. I still find myself stopping to notice and capture ordinary moments that most people would walk past. For me, creativity has never been about making beautiful things. It's about noticing what others often overlook. It's about paying attention to the little details. I think that's the lens through which I've always seen the world and eventually, the lens through which I learnt to build brands.
Finding where I belonged
School taught me resilience. College taught me who I was.
My foundational years began at a convent school in Nagpur before moving to a humble school in Calcutta where I spent the significant years of my life. Like many children, I spent most of the time trying to fit in. Growing up in an interfaith family meant I sometimes felt different from the people around me. As a child, that wasn't always easy to understand, and there were moments that made me feel like I had to work a little harder to find where I belonged. Academically, I was never the student who topped every exam. Maths and science never came naturally to me. But give me literature, languages, history, geography or anything that involved people, stories and ideas and I was completely in my element. What I lacked in report cards, I made up for in participation. I somehow always found myself saying yes to responsibility, new experiences and opportunities that pushed me outside my comfort zone. I became class monitor for three consecutive years, eventually served as House Captain, represented my school in sports, participated in inter-school dance competitions, and loved being involved wherever I could. For Classes 11 and 12, I moved to another school. It was another fresh start with subjects that, if I'm honest, never truly excited me. I had chosen Commerce because it felt like the sensible decision at the time, even though my heart naturally leaned towards the Arts. Looking back, those years taught me something I've carried with me ever since. Sometimes you're not struggling because you're incapable. Sometimes you're simply in the wrong environment. Everything changed when I joined The Heritage Academy to study B.Sc. in Media Science. For the first time, learning didn't feel like a responsibility. It felt exciting. Curiosity wasn't just encouraged it was expected. Learning wasn't confined to four classroom walls. I wasn't just learning advertising; I was pitching brands during college events. I wasn't just studying filmmaking; I was writing scripts, directing, shooting and editing films. I wasn't just reading about journalism; I was interviewing people, producing stories and learning how to ask better questions. And somewhere along the way, my confidence quietly grew alongside my curiosity. The same student who had once doubted her academic abilities graduated with a 9.47 CGPA, among the top of her class. That experience taught me something I still believe today. People don't thrive because they're naturally good at everything. They thrive when they finally find something they're excited to learn. College also became the place where I discovered how much I loved building things with people. As part of an NGO internship, I had the opportunity to teach underprivileged children. Around the same time, I volunteered with AIESEC, visiting schools to conduct interactive sessions on the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Whether I was helping children with their studies or encouraging young students to think about global challenges and responsible citizenship, I realised that education has the power to shape far more than academics, it shapes confidence, curiosity and perspective. Looking back, I think that's where my love for teaching truly began. It was never just about explaining a subject. It was about helping someone believe they were capable of learning. In college, I organised festivals, managed large-scale events, coordinated teams, pitched sponsors, designed posters, interviewed guests, participated in debates, quizzes, filmmaking competitions, dance performances and photography projects—often juggling several of them at once. I was also one of the youngest members of organising committees, trusted with responsibilities that taught me leadership long before I ever held a formal leadership title. Somewhere along the way, I rediscovered badminton, represented my college across multiple inter-college championships, and was fortunate enough to bring home several trophies. Interestingly, I was never the loudest person in the room or the most popular student on campus. I wasn't looking for the spotlight. I simply loved the process of creating, organising, solving problems and helping people bring ideas to life. Then came 2019. While I was still in my second year of undergrad, I was selected to represent my college at the International Advertising Association (IAA) World Congress in Kochi. I was the youngest student in our delegation, travelling alongside postgraduate students and faculty members. For a nineteen-year-old from Calcutta, it felt like stepping into an entirely different world. For three unforgettable days, I listened to some of the greatest minds in advertising speak about creativity, culture, brands and the future of communication. I watched people like Amitabh Bachchan take the stage, listened to industry leaders I'd only ever read about, and even had the opportunity to meet and interact with Piyush Pandey. Until then, advertising had existed inside classrooms, assignments and college competitions. Kochi made it real. It stopped being just a subject I loved studying and became the career I knew I wanted to build. Looking back, I realise I wasn't searching for success. I was searching for a place where my curiosity, creativity, leadership and love for people could all exist together. Heritage gave me that place. Kochi gave me the direction. And for the first time, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.
Building without a blueprint
The world slowed down in 2020. I tried not to. While my final year of college moved online and life seemed to pause for everyone around me, I found myself asking a question that has quietly shaped every stage of my career since: "What can I learn next?" I've never been good at sitting idle. If I have time, I instinctively want to learn something, build something, create something or solve a problem. So instead of waiting for life to return to normal, I started creating my own opportunities. Teaching became the first. I began teaching younger students across different subjects while also coaching spoken English to learners of all ages from the UAE, the US and the UK. It was the first time I was earning through a skill I had built, and it taught me that meaningful work isn't defined by a job title it's defined by the value you create for other people. Teaching also strengthened something I'd first discovered through my college NGO and AIESEC experiences: I genuinely loved helping people learn. Every class reminded me that education isn't just about sharing knowledge. It's about building confidence, encouraging curiosity and helping someone believe they're capable of more than they thought. Somewhere during those countless online classes, another dream quietly took shape, to one day pursue a PhD and retire as a professor. But teaching was only one part of the story. When I wasn't in a classroom, I was building one of my own. There was no syllabus anymore. No exams. No professors deciding what I should learn next. For the first time in my life, I became responsible for designing my own education. I immersed myself in graphic design, branding, social media marketing, content creation, photography, video editing and every new tool I could get my hands on. I spent hours watching tutorials, experimenting, accepting freelance projects, making mistakes, solving problems and learning by doing. Every project expanded my skills, my confidence and my understanding of how businesses grow. Long before I landed my first full-time role, I had already started building real-world experience through teaching, freelancing and working directly with clients. Looking back, that's why I never felt like I was starting my career from scratch. I had already spent years creating one. The lockdown also gave me something I hadn't expected - time. Time with my parents. Time to learn cooking from my mother. Time to paint, sketch, make handmade crafts and reconnect with the creative hobbies that had shaped my childhood. They reminded me that creativity wasn't something reserved for work. It had always been a part of who I was. Looking back, I don't remember lockdown years as the phase where the world stood still. I remember it as the time I stopped waiting for opportunities, permission and for someone else to tell me what came next. Everything that followed - building an agency, pursuing an MBA and working with brands was built on a foundation that quietly took shape during those months. And I think that's been the greatest advantage of my career ever since.
Choosing the unconventional...always.
By the time I graduated, I knew one thing with certainty that I didn't want to build my career from a single point of view. I wanted to understand how businesses are built from as many perspectives as possible. So instead of chasing the "perfect" job, I chased exposure. Over the next few years, I intentionally chose environments that would stretch the way I thought: boutique agencies, fast-growing startups, founder-led businesses, independent creative studios, and one of the world's largest advertising networks - DDB Mudra Group. Each one taught me something different. Large companies showed me the value of systems, processes and consistency. Smaller teams taught me how quickly ideas could turn into action. Working directly with founders gave me a front-row seat to the realities of building a business - the difficult decisions, constant trade-offs and resilience required to keep moving forward when there isn't a clear answer. Along the way, I had the opportunity to work with businesses across hospitality, real estate, education, healthcare, fashion, food, technology, manufacturing, retail and many other industries. I worked with early-stage startups searching for their first customers and established brands that had been around for decades. Every project required me to step into a completely different world. One week I was understanding how a heritage hotel creates memorable guest experiences. The next, I was learning how doctors build trust, how schools communicate with parents, or how manufacturing companies position themselves in competitive markets. The industries changed. The challenges changed. But one lesson stayed the same. Every great business begins with understanding people. The more I worked, the more I realised that I wasn't just fascinated by marketing. I was fascinated by businesses. How they're built. Why they grow. Why some succeed while others don't. That curiosity eventually led me to start my own creative agency. Not because I believed I had all the answers but because I wanted to ask better questions. I wanted to experience what it meant to build something from scratch, make decisions without a playbook, lead a team, earn trust, work directly with founders and take complete ownership of both my successes and my mistakes. Starting my agency gave me a perspective no job ever could. It taught me that entrepreneurship isn't glamorous. It's solving problems you didn't know existed, making difficult decisions with limited information, and continuing to show up even when nothing goes according to plan. Ironically, becoming an entrepreneur also brought me back to the classroom. An MBA was never part of my original plan. I had always assumed business school was meant for people who were naturally great with numbers, came from prestigious academic backgrounds, or could comfortably afford the investment. I didn't see myself in that picture. Building my agency slowly changed that belief. The more I built, the more I realised I wanted to understand business beyond instinct and experience. I wanted to challenge the way I thought, learn from people who had built companies themselves, and strengthen the foundations behind my decisions. That's what eventually led me to Masters' Union. What drew me there wasn't just the curriculum, it was the philosophy. For the first time, I found a business school that valued curiosity, initiative, resilience and the willingness to build as much as academic performance. It felt like I had found another environment where learning happened through doing. During my MBA, I wasn't just attending classes. I was simultaneously building my agency, experimenting with new ventures, collaborating with people from completely different backgrounds, and learning from founders, investors, operators and industry leaders who had spent years building businesses of their own. Looking back, I don't think my career has been about collecting job titles. It's been about collecting perspectives. Every organisation. Every founder. Every client. Every business. Every classroom. Each one has shaped the way I think, lead and create. If there's one thing my journey has taught me, it's this: Learning never really stops. It simply finds new classrooms.
The story continues..
When I'm not working, you'll probably find me travelling, photographing old streets, playing badminton, watching cricket, dancing to Bollywood music, or simply chilling with family and friends.
These are the things that keep me inspired, grounded and endlessly curious.
I still dream of pursuing a PhD someday and eventually becoming a professor, because education has changed my life more than once. If I can spend my life learning, building and helping others grow along the way, I'd consider that a life well lived.
If you've made it this far, thank you for reading my story. I'd love to hear yours too.