Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Diship Garg. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Alright, Diship thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?

I’m definitely happier as an artist—but that doesn’t mean I haven’t questioned it. In fact, I think every creative has those moments of doubt.

I remember one night vividly. I was in New York, alone in my apartment, editing a song I’d been working on for weeks. It was Rooh, actually—a song that came from the deepest part of me. The sun had set hours ago, and I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t checked my phone, hadn’t stepped away from the session. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. And somewhere between takes, I paused and thought: What if I had just taken a regular job? What if I had a 9 to 5, a steady paycheck, weekends off, health insurance, structure—would I be happier? Would life be simpler?

It wasn’t the first time I’d had that thought. I’ve seen friends climbing ladders in tech, finance, and consulting—buying homes, taking vacations, living what looks like a stable life. Meanwhile, I was patching together income through projects, consulting gigs, scholarships, and freelance work—hoping that each step would lead me closer to something lasting. It’s hard not to compare when the world glorifies stability and underestimates passion.

But that night, as I sat in silence, I pressed play on the rough mix of Rooh. It was raw, imperfect—but it was me. I heard my soul speaking back to me through the speakers. And suddenly, the heaviness lifted. I realized: I may not have chosen the easiest path, but I chose the one that makes me feel most alive.

Being an artist means I get to create meaning out of pain, connection out of loneliness, and light out of uncertainty. It means I get to wake up and ask, “What do I want to say to the world today?” And not everyone gets to do that.

Yes, there are days I wonder what life would be like if I chose something more “normal.” But then I remember: this path isn’t about being normal—it’s about being honest. And I’d rather live a life of honest struggle than comfortable compromise.

That’s why I wrote Rooh. It’s about that very conflict—the mind telling you to be practical, and the soul whispering, “Keep going. You’re on the right path.” And I’ve learned to trust that whisper, even when the world gets loud.

Diship, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

For those meeting me for the first time—my name is Diship Garg, and I’m a singer, composer, music director, sound engineer, author, and creative entrepreneur who lives at the intersection of tradition and innovation.

My journey began in Ghaziabad, India, where I started singing devotional music at the age of seven. By age twelve, I was honored with the title India’s Youngest Bhajan Singer by the India Book of Records. That early recognition set me on a lifelong path of sound, storytelling, and soul.

Over the years, I’ve worn many creative hats—performer, producer, music business strategist, and now founder of a wellness-focused sanctuary built around immersive sound experiences. I’ve released devotional and Urdu albums with major labels like T-Series, produced charting singles, composed for TV, performed internationally, and collaborated with artists and brands across genres. I’ve also worked in artist management and global strategy at companies like AEG Presents–TMWRK Management and Adhyâropa Records, where I managed rosters of 50+ artists, oversaw release campaigns, and helped shape digital marketing initiatives.

But what sets me apart isn’t just the breadth of my work—it’s the why behind it.

At the heart of everything I do is a belief that music is medicine. I see sound not just as entertainment, but as a vehicle for healing, alignment, and self-discovery. That philosophy has shaped every step of my journey—from composing music that blends Indian classical roots with modern textures, to writing my book Music – The Mirror of the Soul, which explores the emotional and spiritual power of sound, to building my newest project: a transformative wellness sanctuary in New Delhi.

This upcoming sanctuary is one of the most personal things I’ve ever built. It’s a space where ancient Indian wisdom meets contemporary sensory science—featuring sound bath beds, automated foot soak cabins, signature aromas, and sacred lighting environments. It’s designed for people who are exhausted by the noise of life and need a space to reset. It’s not a spa—it’s a temple of energy. A sanctuary for the soul.

In addition to wellness design and music production, I also offer creative consulting services for artists, brands, and startups who want to build emotionally resonant, culturally meaningful projects. I help clients align their creative vision with strategy, brand identity, and technology so their art doesn’t just exist—it connects.

What I want people to know about me and my brand is simple:
• Everything I create—whether a song, a show, a sanctuary, or a strategy—is rooted in authenticity and purpose.
• I believe in art that heals, not just sells.
• I don’t chase trends—I create experiences that last.

I’m proud of my global education, which includes four master’s degrees—in Indian Classical Vocal, Economics, Public Policy, and Music Business (Music Technology) from NYU. But I’m even prouder of the emotional clarity I’ve gained through years of choosing passion over predictability.

To anyone navigating their own path—whether you’re an artist, a healer, or someone just searching for peace—I want you to know that your inner voice matters. That’s what my music, my writing, and my spaces are built to support.

Let’s keep building bridges—between cultures, between people, and most importantly, between the soul and the sound.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

One story that truly reflects my resilience happened during my first winter in New York.

I had just moved here to pursue my Master’s in Music Business (Music Technology) at NYU. It was a dream—but reality hit hard. I was living alone, adjusting to a new culture, juggling coursework, internships, and creative projects, all while managing finances as an international student in one of the world’s most expensive cities.

There was one particular evening I’ll never forget. I had just come back from a long shift at my internship, where I had spent the day handling backend data and artist strategy. I was emotionally drained. I sat in my tiny apartment in Brooklyn, editing vocals for a personal track I was working on—what would later become Rooh. I hadn’t eaten all day, my heater was barely working, and outside, it was snowing heavily.

In that moment, I felt the full weight of everything—homesickness, exhaustion, uncertainty. I questioned my path: Was this worth it? Was all this struggle really leading me somewhere? The easier path—taking a regular job, going back home, settling down—suddenly seemed very tempting.

But then I pressed play on the rough demo of Rooh. It was raw, imperfect—but honest. And that honesty pulled me back. I remembered why I came here. Not just to study, or build a career—but to evolve. To create music that carries the truth of struggle, and the hope of transformation.

That night, I wrote one of the most powerful verses of Rooh. I cried while recording it—but not out of pain, out of clarity. I realized that resilience isn’t about pretending everything is okay—it’s about showing up anyway, especially when things are not.

Since then, I’ve faced many challenges—professionally, emotionally, financially—but I carry that night with me. It reminds me that no matter how cold the world feels, your art can be your warmth. Your truth can be your compass.

And that’s what Rooh became: not just a song, but a reminder that even when the mind is full of doubt, the soul always knows the way.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

If we want a thriving creative ecosystem, society needs to stop treating art as a luxury—and start recognizing it as a necessity.

Artists are the emotional memory-keepers of culture. We reflect the times, challenge perspectives, and offer healing through sound, visuals, words, and movement. But too often, creatives are celebrated only after they’ve “made it,” while their years of struggle remain invisible or dismissed.

To truly support artists, society needs to do three things:

1. Normalize the creative path as valid and essential.
We need to stop asking young creatives “But what’s your backup plan?” and instead create environments—at home, in schools, in policy—that treat art with the same respect as science or finance. Creative careers should be seen not as a gamble, but as a contribution to collective well-being.

2. Invest in sustainable infrastructure.
Grants, fellowships, mental health resources, and artist residencies shouldn’t be seen as extras—they’re essentials. Independent artists especially need access to platforms, funding, and fair compensation systems. Whether it’s subsidizing rehearsal spaces, ensuring streaming royalties are equitable, or including arts in public policy, structural support is key.

3. Value art for its impact, not just its popularity.
A thriving creative ecosystem isn’t built by chasing trends—it’s built by nurturing voices that are honest, diverse, and culturally rooted. We need to celebrate the experimental, the traditional, the emerging—not just the viral. That means curators, educators, journalists, and audiences must all play a role in amplifying meaningful work, not just marketable work.

Personally, I’ve seen both sides of this. I’ve been the young artist no one believed in, and I’ve also had the privilege of working within global creative institutions. And what I’ve learned is this: when artists are given space, trust, and resources—they don’t just create art, they create change.

Because a society that nourishes its artists is one that remains connected to its soul.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.dishipgarg.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dishipgarg/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/dishipgarg/
• Other: https://open.spotify.com/artist/0XWFEByaZWsij8VaxK4FRF?si=hLkOaOjhRWOqary-gjLd6g