I come from a world of logic, structure, and deadlines. For years, I worked as an IT professional, where precision mattered more than emotion and efficiency defined success. Art, during that time, lived quietly beside me—not as a career, but as a refuge.

After long workdays, I found myself returning to colors, textures, and images from memory. What began as a way to slow down slowly became a necessity. Art gave me something my professional life could not—space to feel, to remember, and to breathe.

The transition from IT to art was not sudden or dramatic. It was gradual, layered, and filled with doubt. I did not abandon technology; instead, I learned to coexist with it. Today, my practice blends traditional art forms—acrylics, mixed media, textured and scraped canvases—with AI-assisted digital processes that I guide intentionally by hand. Technology became a tool, not the voice.

My background in IT shapes how I work. It gives me discipline, structure, and problem-solving skills, while art allows intuition, imperfection, and emotion to lead. This balance defines my creative process—where planning meets spontaneity, and control meets surrender.

My art is rooted in memory, culture, and everyday life. From sunflowers that carry scars, to Bengali food that holds warmth and belonging, to 90s nostalgia filled with quiet moments—each series reflects lived experience rather than visual perfection.

Choosing art was not about leaving a career behind; it was about returning to myself. I create today not to follow trends or mass production, but to tell stories that feel personal, honest, and human.

Art, for me, is proof that passion does not disappear—it waits patiently to be claimed.