I often joke that I have spent most of my career building worlds that people either inhabit for years or encounter for two seconds on screen. The tools are similar, but the pressures of these twin careers are not. My fascination with design started long before I knew it could be a profession. I grew up in a Gujarati family where I was constantly making things, whether miniature installations for Navratri, religious backdrops, stage sets for school productions or drawings for competitions. I was never the student who came alive in conventional academic subjects. Once someone put a pencil in my hand and ask me to create something, though, everything changed.

The first major validation arrived when I secured an All India Rank of 50 in the NIFT entrance examination. Suddenly it felt possible as a career path. My route into interiors was far from straightforward. For years, I worked in production design, first under Sabu Cyril and later independently. Sabu was a huge influence. I became fascinated by the idea that entire environments could be built solely to serve a story.

When I struck out on my own, I worked on films such as Go Goa Gone, Happy Ending, Dear Zindagi and SPYDER. I also worked on more than a thousand commercials and TV productions. People often underestimate how demanding advertising can be. A commercial might require an entire world to be conceived, designed and executed in a matter of days. You learn speed, adaptability and precision very quickly.

After nearly five years in production design, the turning point came unexpectedly when I was commissioned to design the office of filmmakers Balki and Gauri Shinde. What started as a single project altered the direction of my career.

During the project, Alia Bhatt visited the office and responded strongly to the design. Not long afterwards, she entrusted me with designing her home. That project opened an entirely new chapter. One commission led to another and before long interior design had become a major part of my practice.

One of the biggest lessons came from discovering that homes are fundamentally different from film sets. A set exists to tell a story. A home exists for people to live their lives. On a film set, the narrative comes first. In a residence, the people become the narrative.

That sounds obvious now, but it required a significant shift in mindset. In production design, I was accustomed to creating highly immersive environments with strong personalities and unconventional ideas. In interiors, many clients initially wanted something safer. There was one early project that left me deeply dissatisfied because it looked pleasant enough but lacked any real character. I remember finishing it and realising

That project became an important lesson. It forced me to define what kind of designer I wanted to be. Since then, I have approached every commission with the belief that a space should reveal something about the people connected to it. A home should not simply look attractive. It should possess an identity.

Ironically, the biggest challenge in moving from film sets to homes was not creativity but patience. Film production runs on relentless deadlines. Interiors demand long conversations, planning, collaboration and attention to how people actually live. I am fortunate to work with architects who help translate my ideas into technically rigorous spaces, while I push them to think beyond convention.

Whether I am working on a film, a commercial or a residence, the objective remains remarkably similar. I want people to feel something. The medium changes. The story changes. But my desire to create memorable worlds does not.