Every artist, at some point, finds themselves returning to a question that has echoed through centuries—कोऽहम् (Ko’ham)—Who am I? For me, that question wasn’t just philosophical. It became the heartbeat of my creative journey, my academic pursuits, and eventually, the reason behind founding A3.

In Vedantic thought, Ko’ham isn’t a riddle to be solved—it’s a way of being. A practice. A mirror. I’ve often wondered how our ancestors distilled the vastness of human existence into such a simple, resonant phrase. And the more I reflect on it, the more I believe that this question—this sacred asking—is the very journey of every soul on this planet. Certainly, it has been mine.

From a young age, art became the language through which I explored my many versions of Ko’ham. I remember sitting quietly, listening to my father recite his poems. The way he held his pauses between verses fascinated me—it was as though the silence itself was speaking. Later, my art teacher would introduce me to the ‘moments in between’—the sacred pause before brush met paper. And sometimes, it was as simple as the unease I felt when one string on my sitar was slightly off, gently disturbing the harmony. These seemingly small experiences stayed with me. They taught me to pay attention—not just to the art, but to the self behind it.

While my creative instincts led me inward, my academic journey gave me the tools to understand the world outwardly. Studying political science, anthropology, and ancient India opened my eyes to how civilisations are shaped not just by power or politics, but by stories, symbols, and shared imagination. I began to see how cultures express their truths through art—how artists become both historians and philosophers, carriers of memory and visionaries of change.

Alongside this, my love for cinema and my work as a film and art critic gave me another kind of insight—one that has become the soul of A3. Through criticism, I learnt to witness the artist first—before the applause, before the audience, before interpretation. I learnt that behind every brushstroke, every scene, every phrase, there is a soul searching Ko’ham in their own voice. And perhaps, all art is just that—an attempt to answer that question honestly.

This deep respect for the inner journey of the artist is what led me to build the A3 Foundation. A3 stands for Artist First, Always. It is not simply a motto; it is a philosophy, a commitment, and a prayer. A3 was born out of countless such moments—of creating, observing, learning, and witnessing. As its founding mother, and before all else, an artist myself, I have travelled many artistic paths—photography, voice acting, writing, cooking—and in each, I have been transformed by the artists I’ve met and the truths they’ve dared to express.

I don’t see A3 as an organisation. I see it as a village—a space where we grow together, where artists support one another not only with skill, but with soul. A place rooted in accessibility, equity, and shared responsibility. A home where art is not judged, but nurtured. Where you are seen not for what you produce, but for who you are becoming through your work.

Because artists matter.
Art matters.

You are the ones who imagine, who heal, who hold space for truth when others cannot. You make the world more bearable, more beautiful, and infinitely more meaningful.

So here is my hope for A3:

That it becomes a sanctuary for your truth.

A place where your questions are welcomed, your voice is heard, and your art is honoured.

Because the world needs more artists brave enough to ask Ko’ham, and even braver to answer it through creation.

So thank you—
for the thoughts you carry,
the ideas you shape,
and the worlds you build through your art.

I hope A3 becomes as much yours as it is mine.
I can’t wait to see your journey unfold—and to walk alongside you, learning, unlearning, and growing together.

With all my heart,
— Janhavi