On September 2, 2026, I was creating a Hindi album dedicated to Shree Ganesha. After several attempts at refining the lyrics, an extraordinary tune had begun to take shape:
“Naino mein aisi māyā,
Bhujāon mein aisi shakti,
Tere roop ki divya jyoti,
Har sāns mein teri bhakti…”
That was when a new thought struck me: how about a song in Sanskrit? I was immediately sold on the idea. And the moment I thought of Sanskrit, three words surfaced from somewhere deep within my mind:
Ahaṃ tvāṃ namāmi.
I bow to you.
I cannot trace those words to a particular lesson, book or moment. I can only surmise that they entered my consciousness during my childhood, when Sanskrit was a mandatory subject in School.
The thought had remained hidden in the recesses of my mind—unspoken, perhaps even forgotten, but never truly lost. The instant I contemplated creating a Sanskrit composition, they returned. It was a classic moment of ancient memory recall: a fragment planted in childhood, lying dormant across years, suddenly emerging when the right creative door opened.
Those three words became the foundation of Tvāṃ Namāmi—and the first seed of an album I had not yet planned to create.