“I come from a lower-middle-class family where survival always came before dreams. My father passed away when I was in school, and from then, it was just my mother, my brothers and me —her making sweets to keep the house running, my brothers working and studying and me slowly discovering Mehendi as more than just art.

It began out of curiosity—watching my North Indian neighbours. I tried it on myself, then my mother. My first bridal Mehendi earned me ₹350. My father, when he was alive, used to make ₹150 a day. That’s when I realised—this wasn’t just passion, it had power. From then till now I’ve been a self taught Mehendi Artist.

But being a man in this profession? That meant rejection, ridicule, and years of struggle. Clients backed out last minute just because of my gender. I was told Mehendi wasn’t ‘for boys.’ But I kept going—not for fame, but to make sure my mother didn’t have to fight alone anymore.
Chennai changed everything. The city saw my art before my identity. I trained in makeup under prakatwork, and now, brides across Tamil Nadu wear my work with pride.

Today, women message me saying they want me to do their bridal Mehendi. My Instagram became my portfolio. I built something—slowly, honestly, against all odds.

To me, Mehendi isn’t feminine or masculine—it’s pure. And to my mother, who always stood by me when no one else did—you are the reason I never gave up.
To every man choosing an offbeat path—this is your art, your space, and you belong here. Keep going. The world will catch up.”