In conversation with Sumana for LOCK, we explore her transition from the corporate world into music and how her background in business continues to shape her life as an independent artist. She reflects on creativity, risk, and the meaning behind her album The Flight, where the most defining moments sit at the edge of uncertainty, just prior to taking off.
-You spent years studying business and working in the corporate world before leaving it behind. Looking back, what did that experience give you that actually helps you as an independent artist today?
It gave me far more than I realized at the time. My years in the corporate world taught me discipline, professionalism, teamwork, and the ability to see a project through from start to finish. They also gave me practical skills in areas such as management, budgeting, negotiation, communication, marketing, and relationship building — all of which are essential when you are an independent artist.
People often think that being an artist is only about creativity, but in reality, an independent artist is also an entrepreneur. Today, I am responsible for every aspect of my music project, from creation and production to promotion, administration, and business development. My corporate experience and my MBA gave me the tools and confidence to navigate those responsibilities.
Beyond the technical skills, that chapter also taught me how to work hard, adapt to change, and collaborate with people from different backgrounds. I carry those lessons with me every day.
Your album is called The Flight but you’ve described the key moment as standing on the edge of the nest rather than actually flying. Why are you drawn to that moment of hesitation instead of the triumph that comes after?
Because I think that is where the real courage lies. The moment of triumph is often visible and celebrated, but the moment before it is usually quiet, private, and full of uncertainty. It is the moment when you don’t yet know if things will work out, when you are confronted with your fears, your doubts, and the possibility of failure.
Most of the important decisions in my life — moving countries, changing careers, becoming a métro musician, releasing my own music — happened before I knew what the outcome would be.
The Flight is not really about the certainty of flying. It is about learning to trust yourself enough to leave the nest in the first place. I think many people can relate to that feeling. At some point in life, we all stand at the edge of something unknown, wondering whether we have the courage to take the leap.
Your journey has recently been recognized by institutions and competitions. Do those forms of recognition change anything internally, or are they mostly external milestones?
I think they are both. On one hand, these recognitions are external milestones. They are encouraging because they signal that the work is being seen and appreciated beyond my immediate circle, and they can help open doors that might otherwise remain closed.
But they also have an internal impact. When you choose an unconventional path, there are inevitably moments of doubt and questioning. Recognition can sometimes serve as a gentle reminder that you are moving in the right direction and that the risks you have taken have meaning.
That said, I try not to let recognition define my sense of worth or purpose. The reasons I make music today are the same reasons I started: the joy of creating, the freedom to express myself, and the hope of connecting with others through shared human experiences.
I am deeply grateful for the recognition I have received, but I reminde myself ever so often that the real reward remains the journey itself and the people my music allows me to meet along the way.
You’ve performed in both France and India. Have you noticed differences in how audiences respond to songs about vulnerability, self-discovery, or personal change?
Whether in France or in India, I’ve noticed that people respond to something sincere and authentic. Topics such as vulnerability, self-discovery, love, loss, hope, or personal transformation are deeply human experiences that transcend culture, language, and geography.
Of course, the way people express their emotions can vary. Some audiences are more demonstrative, while others are more reserved. But I have found that when a song comes from a sincere place, people connect with it regardless of where they are from.
Many people dream of changing paths but hesitate to take the leap. What would you say to someone standing at the edge of their own “flight”?
I would tell them that it is completely normal to be afraid. Every meaningful change comes with uncertainty, and most of us are conditioned to seek security, predictability, and stability. Standing at the edge of something new can feel uncomfortable because there are no guarantees.
At the same time, I believe that some desires keep returning to us for a reason and are meant to be pursued. If a dream, an idea, or a calling continues to knock at your door, it may be worth listening to it.
That doesn’t mean acting impulsively. I am a strong believer in preparing well — mentally, financially, and practically. So I would say: trust yourself, take one step at a time, and don’t wait for the absence of fear before you begin… take baby steps and celebrate each little success. Be disciplined about your actions and work towards your goal everyday. You might not see it now, but every action you take will open a door (or a window!) further down the line and get you closer to where you want to be.