Kritika Verdia Mehta

From as far back as I can remember, art wasn’t just something I enjoyed — it was the one place where I felt completely myself. While other kids outgrew their childhood hobbies, my love for colours, textures, and tools only grew stronger. Brushes, paints, and little creative experiments always felt like home to me.

Very early in life, I decided that art wouldn’t remain just a passion — it would become my profession. And the person who believed in this dream more than anyone was my dad. He would often tell me, “One day, I’ll build you an art gallery of your own.” Those words became my motivation through every phase of learning and exploration.

But life changed unexpectedly when I lost him to COVID. The grief was overwhelming, and everything felt uncertain for a while. Yet, in those difficult moments, I found myself returning to the one thing that always gave me strength — art. What began as an emotional escape slowly became a way to honour him and keep his dream alive.