This is the story of a bee, happily flitting from one flower to another for most of her life.
I started in pure science. Then political science. Then international relations. Then marketing. Somewhere along the way, I realized I was far more interested in people than in subjects. My career followed the same pattern.
I began in editorial and media, writing around gender, sustainability, culture, and social innovation, with bylines in The Swaddle, Arré, and The Wire. I led a global team of writers as a UN volunteer, spent time in spaces like AIESEC and Rotary, and eventually became the Creative Communications Head at WeUnlearn, an EdTech platform helping adolescents think about gender and stereotypes.
Then I thought: why not get married to a brand? That’s when Wakefit happened.
At Wakefit, I scaled content across categories and campaigns as Creative Content Lead. I had a ball there. Among many things, I became the voice of Kumbhkaran, the Chief Sleep Officer, who somehow managed a million impressions in three days. My colleagues (and more importantly, their spouses) thought I was very cool. In your twenties, that’s basically an Oscar.
The amount of learning that happened here is truly baffling. This is where I found and grew my confidence. I butted my nose into almost every vertical, and that’s how I learnt the ropes of marketing (is there really any other way to learn?). My seniors noticed but chose to turn a blind eye; letting me fail quietly, while celebrating every success loudly. I still remember during the Kumbhkaran campaign, the Brand Head told me, “All your misses are mine, all your hits are yours.” For a young person, that’s all the boost you need to be creative.
I quit Wakefit right before its IPO because things were going too well for me. Could there be anything more bonkers? Oh yes, I joined an agency.
At Sane Difference, as Creative Director, I got pulled into a different kind of creative chaos: brand identity, narrative strategy, campaign thinking, communication systems. I was also helping the founder build apps like Storysurf and Gonecase, which meant constantly switching between storytelling, product, and strategy. Around the same time, I started teaching and realized how much I enjoy helping people think more clearly about communication and creativity.
Across all of it, one thing stayed constant: I genuinely love making things. I won’t say I’d die if I didn’t create, but I’d be pretty useless.
Over time, I became less interested in content production itself and far more interested in the thinking underneath it: positioning, voice, narrative, clarity. That eventually became Propolis.
It’s intentionally a company of one. Not because small is superior, but because I like depth. I like being close to the work. And I like making things too much to step away from the thinking and writing itself.
Today, I work across narrative strategy, positioning, leadership communication, content systems, and brand storytelling. Sometimes I write. Sometimes I sharpen what already exists. Sometimes I build the structure the content sits on.
Outside client work, I run The Nook — a Substack that began during the pandemic and has now grown into a 20,000-strong community exploring what it means to make space: personal, shared, lived. The New Indian Express covered it. I’m still not over that. I also run Bookinquestion, an Instagram series where I introduce books through the central question they left me with.
Propolis is where all the threads finally seem to come together. Which feels fitting for someone who spent so long collecting them.