EDITING
My restlessness with raising my eyebrows at shabby punctuation began when I was rather young as I recall, and therefore, it would not be offensive if one were to term me quite an OCD when it comes to incorrect grammar and sentences. What began as an urge to write letters like they did in old times, soon graduated into stringing words that some called poems, and behold, a book of my poems was published too, although I do not believe that I am much of a poet, as much as I am a creative writer, copywriter, novelist, essayist and the rest that goes with such revelations in the written form. My first vocal attempt at having content redone was for my big brother Subi Samuel's website. What had been drawn up by his team was excellent, but it somehow lacked the proficiency of expressing what my brother did - you see he was a magician with the lens. And as intrusive as it sounds, I could not sit quiet, so I secretly reworked what had been coughed up by his chaps and had them replace it with what I thought made clearer sense. Big brother's are, as luck would have it your first godfather's, and as a consequence Subi asked me to write something for Zoom Channel, on a series of photographs with the 'clown' being the central theme of the entire pictures he was shooting for them. That, I ought to admit, was what gave me butterflies in my stomach, as it was something that was accompanying my brother's work, of which I was a great fan. It mattered less that by then that I had had two books of my fiction published by Westland under my arm, add to that, I had written enough for my own company's website and had completed sufficient content for my friends who needed anything at all to do with creative literature, but the pressure of writing for family has this manner in which it weighs you down, but I was glad that the outcome was, in the end as I had desired, and thankfully, I hadn't to face as many brickbats as I had imagined. Soon after, I was thrilled when a dear friend Ravi K Chandran, who has attained worldwide fame for his exceptional camerawork wanted me to write him the questions that an award function wanted him to answer for his achievements. The questions had to stem from his own experiences, as well as reflect depth. That was something I greatly enjoyed crafting. Since then, I have helped edit, dust and firm together stuff for many people considering how finicky I am about incorrect representations of the language.
I could as well go on and on considering my love with words does not quite end there, but I reckon enough has been said. So I shall leave you with books written by a friend Matt Straight, who has tasted immense success with his books on fitness. I was honoured that he offered me the opportunity to edit his books before they went for publication.
CREATIVE DESIGN
In my schooldays, I was struck by a quiet conviction—that one’s address, that small yet significant signpost of one’s dwelling in the world, ought not to be hastily scrawled upon scraps of paper, as was then the common practice. It seemed to me, even then, that something so personal deserved a more thoughtful expression. And so I took it upon myself to design my own cards—modest creations that bore my home address and telephone number with a measure of grace and order.
To my delight, these small efforts did not go unnoticed. Friends of discerning taste began to request cards of their own, and thus was set in motion a marvellous little venture—my first foray into what I would later come to recognise as the craft of graphic design. Looking back, I wish I had preserved those early tokens of creativity. But, as is so often the case, we live through our most formative moments unaware of their significance. It is only in the golden light of reminiscence that we discern their quiet grandeur.
I have since learnt, with no small measure of gratitude, the value of keeping a faithful archive of one’s creative journey—a ledger of sorts, not merely for record but for remembrance. The designs you see featured below are part of that unfolding narrative: some conceived and drawn by my own hand, others brought to life with the invaluable assistance of my ever-willing design team at 2927, whose imagination and generosity continue to mirror my own.
BOOKS
That was the cover of a book featuring my poetry.
That was the back cover of the book, featuring a poem.
HEARTBEAT
A book of poems
This particular book design came about almost by accident, as such happy things often do. What began as a conversation centred around a manuscript soon wandered, as good conversations sometimes will, into the dominion of design. I happened, that morning, to be carrying with me a few of my paintings—fragments of my visual imagination—and upon seeing them, the owner of the publishing house, with an immediacy that surprised me, extended an invitation to design a few covers for their forthcoming titles.
I went on to create several such designs for them—though, regrettably, the artwork for some of these has since eluded my digital archives, and the printed copies, I fear, have long been gifted to friends. But one in particular remains vivid in my memory: the design for Heartbeat.
In envisioning the cover, I hoped to evoke the quiet magic of books one chances upon in the antiquarian shops of London or Paris—those volumes with worn spines and whispered histories, yet with something strikingly alive within. At the same time, I wished the jacket to bear a more spirited, modern sensibility—a kind of youthful clarity resting atop an old soul.
What you see below are two handmade sketches—both drawn with care. The first, a soft landscape, was ultimately chosen. The second, which bore the figure of a cherub, held for me a certain poignant playfulness, a quiet mischief that I thought rather fitting. But the publisher, with the calm confidence of experience, felt the landscape would better suit the market. And so I deferred to their judgment—as one ought to when dealing with those who make their living not only from art, but from its welcome to the world.
2927 BLOG
The company blog at 2927 was both conceived and designed by my own hand—a modest endeavour, yet one into which I poured no small measure of thought. My approach, as with most things I cherish, began not with trends or templates, but with a conversation. I turned to Rahul—my business partner, my brother, my best friend, and the founder of 2927—and asked him a seemingly simple question: “If you were to choose but one pattern in fabric as your favourite, what would it be?” Without hesitation, he replied, “I think I like plaid.”
And so it was that the idea took root: the Tartan—bold, structured, and quietly evocative—would become the central motif of our blog. Not merely a design flourish, but a metaphor of sorts: for history, continuity, and the interplay of colour and form. It felt, somehow, exactly right.
I am told that modern sensibilities now favour brevity in all things visual—that one should present a single image, or perhaps three at most, lest the eye grow weary and the visitor flee. This may very well be true. But I would offer a gentle entreaty to the hurried heart: let patience be your companion as you peruse what follows. For in our haste to scroll and skim, we often miss the very thing that might have spoken to us most.
Take your time, then. Linger a little. The designs below are meant not merely to be seen, but, if you will allow it, to be quietly discovered.
 |
24
24 is the film division of the 2927 Group—a house devoted to the craft of visual storytelling across many forms: from television commercials to full-length feature films, and all manner of moving image in between. In this venture we are fortunate to be guided by the seasoned insight of our mentor, Ravi K. Chandran, and we move forward under the capable leadership of Subi Samuel, who brings both vision and vigour to the helm.
The creation of this website was, for me, a particularly gratifying labour. The photographs were taken in the quiet intimacy of my own home, the design and structure born from my own hand, and the content shaped with care, word-by-word. It was my intent to imbue the site with a certain noir sensibility—something shadowed, evocative, and quietly cinematic. Whether or not I succeeded fully, I cannot say, but I daresay I came rather close to what I had envisioned.
As for the name 24—it arose in a spirit both playful and pointed. While some might expect a sterile explanation rooted in time’s division into twenty-four hours, ours was rather more colourful. In a conversation charged with humour and candour, it was agreed that the number 24—rather than 29—symbolised a certain... well-practised excellence, both literal and metaphorical. For we are, each of us, veterans in our respective crafts, and we thought it only fitting to christen our collective endeavour with a name that hinted at discipline, endurance, and a dash of well-earned mischief.
CAFÉ NOIR
Café Noir is a distinguished chain of French cafés, nestled across some of the most sought-after locales in Bangalore—among them UB City, Whitefield, and the Bangalore International Airport. True to its name, the brand sought to evoke not merely the flavours of France, but the quiet poise and aesthetic refinement that mark its culture.
The design brief, as presented to us, was both clear and challenging: to craft a visual identity that was modern in sensibility, yet did not forsake the grace and detail so inherent in traditional French design. It was, in many ways, a marriage of old-world elegance and contemporary charm.
I must commend my team at 2927, who rose to the task with admirable verve, offering a panoply of ideas—many of which are now housed both on our company website at www.two9two7.com). What I share here, however, is but a small selection—images that reflect the essence of our early planning stages with Thierry Jasserand, the founder of the café, and, I might add, a cherished friend. It was through our collective sensibilities, and the diligent effort of the entire team, that Café Noir found its visual soul.
TRICOG
Another project to which I had the privilege of lending my own hand was Tricog—an endeavour not only of professional merit but of personal significance, for it was founded by two dear friends. Dr. Zainul Charbiwala, its founder and Chief Technology Officer, and Dr. Charit Bhograj, interventional cardiologist and CEO, who also happens to be a childhood mate.
At its heart, Tricog is a shining light of how science and compassion may walk hand in hand. It offers a pioneering solution in the land of remote cardiac diagnosis—an approach that does not merely innovate, but empowers. In marrying advanced artificial intelligence with the discerning eye of human expertise, Tricog has taken its rightful place at the forefront of the MedTech frontier, bringing timely and precise intervention to those facing critical cardiovascular threats.
One cannot help but marvel at the quiet heroism of such work. In an age that so often rushes past suffering with indifference, here is a venture that chooses, instead, to pause, to listen, and to respond—with wisdom, speed, and care. It has been an honour to contribute, however modestly, to a cause so profoundly rooted in the preservation of life itself.
