Ashwinder Sethi

I come from an extended family of artists — two painters, a professional photographer, an architect, a musician, a singer, and a fashion designer. Growing up in such a creative atmosphere, I absorbed something from each one of them.

Like many children in artistic families, I received my first camera from my grandfather. But unlike the instant love affair some photographers describe, my connection with photography took its own time to develop. The seeds were planted, but they needed years to bloom.

I wasn't very good at studies, but I excelled in extracurricular activities. I earned a brown belt in karate, played badminton at the district level, and coached roller skating. I also play the musical keyboard.

Yet, despite being surrounded by art from every direction, I never actively pursued it in my early years. There was always this creative energy inside me, but it found expression through movement, sport, and music rather than visual arts.

That passion for photography arrived much later — when I started traveling. My curiosity about the world eventually led me back to the camera. It became the perfect tool to capture and preserve the places that fascinated me.

At that time, photography was private and deeply personal. I wasn't interested in sharing my images; they were for me, and only me. Each frame was a memory, a moment frozen in time that I could revisit whenever I wanted.

For the longest time, I believed that turning my passion into my profession would destroy the passion itself. I had seen it happen to others — the joy fading as work took over what was once a source of escape.

I was wrong.

Making photography my profession didn't diminish my love for it. Instead, it deepened my commitment to the craft and gave me the freedom to pursue the images that truly mattered to me.