Toffee with Taran on Launch of Zyne

Q1. Let’s cut to the chase—why on earth should anyone bother with Zyne when there are already glossy magazines out there drooling over gear and megapixels with wide circulation?

A: Ah yes, the holy trinity of mainstream mags: “Latest Camera, Latest Lens, and Ten Tips to Improve Your Photography (that you’ll probably forget by tomorrow).” Zyne is a breath of fresh air in this space already suffocating under commerce-driven content—magazines screaming for your attention and nudging you to somehow buy yet another lens or camera. Sorry, camera makers, we’re not here to worship gear—we’re here to celebrate stories. We don’t care whether your camera has 48 megapixels or infinite autofocus points; we care about the photograph that makes someone stop mid-scroll and think, “Damn, that’s beautiful,” rather than the one that makes you think, “Damn, I need a new lens.”

Q2. Okay, but don’t most magazines already do that—while also stuffing in ads so thick you could use the pages as a mattress?

A: Exactly. That’s where Zyne is refreshingly boring. We cap ads to selected five, whose product, services or ethics we stand by. Yes, five. Which means a reader won’t get interrupted by a shampoo ad while you’re reading about Kashmir’s landscapes. That way, readers get content without distraction, and the brands actually get noticed instead of being lost in the noise. Imagine—visibility without needing to scream louder than 40 other banners fighting for your eyeballs on every other page. Revolutionary, I know.

Q3. Fine, but let’s be honest—doesn’t Zyne just cater to photographers patting each other on the back (should I say, ‘mutual admiration society’)?

A: Nope. Zyne is for the whole creative tribe—photographers, yes, but also avid travellers, talented visual artists, and people who don’t know their aperture setting from their elbow yet still love storytelling. Some of our readers are actually at that stage of googling: “Should I buy a camera or just upgrade my iPhone?” We’re speaking to them too. Why restrict the conversation to photographers when art galleries, long the no-entry zone, are finally saying, ‘Come on in, join the show’?

Q4. And you’re calling it ‘international’? Bold claim for a magazine that barely crawled out of your Mumbai workstation yesterday, surrounded by coffee cups and toddler toys?

A: Maybe. But hey—ambition is still free, right? Zyne isn’t just floating around in digital form across the globe, it’s also landing on actual coffee tables through print to its print edition subscribers, however less, at this point of time. Add to that our in-house photography awards, judged by internationally acclaimed jury members from Iran to Miami, and the reach becomes more than just geographical—it’s reputational. Zyne is already sending stories to Berlin, Boston, and maybe even Bora Bora… if the Wi-Fi holds up.

Q: You already have your blog, Creative Genes. Why launch this extra shiny toy—looking for the validation that somehow slipped through your blog? Won’t Zyne just steal the show now?

A: Oh, no—Creative Genes isn’t going anywhere. Creative Genes is my messy, unapologetic personal diary—raw, unrefined, and bespoke. It’s my travel tales, mental health confessions as an artist, contest updates, book reviews, occasional gear ramblings, lawyering notes, personal projects (some impressive, some… experimental disasters), and my experiments with genres and styles (many of which fail spectacularly). Zyne? That’s the polished coffee-table sibling people actually treat with respect—flipping pages mindfully, savoring in-depth interviews with international artists, curated photography and art, global travel stories, and and book picks that won’t make you question my taste. Here, I graciously retreat backstage while the real stars shine. My only flex? Making them look their best—despite my modest digital footprint that screams more “neighborhood blogger” than “international publisher.”

The blog is your street-side chaat—fast, messy, addictive. Zyne is the Michelin-star dinner—slow, refined, meant to be savored. One fills the stomach, the other lingers in memory. Together, they balance the diet.

Q6. And tell me—what’s with sneaking in heavy stuff like mental health, wellness pep talks, and even lawyering into what could’ve just been a breezy magazine? Who in the world asked for your unsolicited legal expertise or your part-time therapy sessions?”

A. Well, no one asked for it, just like no one asked for pineapple on pizza—and yet here we are. Art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Creatives are humans first, and the pressure cooker of deadlines, contracts, and self-doubt is very real. Behind every photograph is a human wrestling with stress, contracts, or self-doubt. Ignoring those realities would make Zyne shallow. We’d rather talk about the roots of creativity, not just its shiny leaves.

Q7. This sounds like a utopian daydream. Come on, how long do you think you can really keep this circus going—when Zyne is basically a one-man band where you’re writing, designing, ideating, photographing, and PR-ing like a caffeinated octopus? Be honest, isn’t this just another beautiful passion project doomed to fizzle out once reality (read, bills) catch up?

A: Well, isn’t that how everything beautiful begins? In a dusty garage corner, with one half-crazy human pulling all the weight—writing, designing, photographing, PR-ing—until there’s money to build a team that actually gets paid for their work. Not in ‘exposure,’ not in ‘collab tags,’ but in real currency that pays rent.

Zyne isn’t any different. Sure, we’ll knock on the doors of select brands for support, but not to turn the magazine into an ad catalog—only to keep it running smoothly and sustainably. Until then, it stays afloat on my salary, because some dreams are worth bankrolling yourself. After all, what price can you put on a dream? It’s priceless to live the one you saw and dared to realize—without anyone’s permission or support.

As long as there are stories that need telling and artists who deserve a platform, Zyne will have a pulse. And besides, if my blog Creative Genes survived a decade of algorithm tantrums and my own procrastination, trust me—Zyne is here to stay.

Q8: So let me get this straight—you’re juggling a job, a blog, photography, a shiny new magazine, and twin toddler tantrums… and somehow you’re the one preaching to the rest of us about slowing down for a sane, creative mind? That’s rich. Do you hand out spa coupons with those sermons, or just the guilt trips?

A: Guilty as charged—but I do pull the plug sometimes—no screens, just building Lego towers with my kids, sneaking out for a coffee date with wife, meeting people offline like it’s 1999, or perfecting the art of doing absolutely nothing.

Slowing down isn’t about sipping piña coladas on a beach. It’s about pausing just long enough to create something meaningful amidst the madness. And hey, if I can carve out a magazine between toddler meltdowns and 9-to-6 deadlines, maybe slowing down is more about mindset than calendar space.

My real edge? Ruthless prioritization, thanks to those self-help books on productivity, fiction readers always judged me for. I budget hours like money, reshuffle tasks in real-time, and outsource without guilt—be it paying premium rent to save commute time, hiring full-time help, or turning AI into my unpaid intern and copywriter. A big shoutout to my wife, who has officially retired me from grocery duty after realizing my idea of ‘fresh produce’ is a fresh draft for Zyne. Add to that my family and friends helping from afar, and suddenly this dream feels less lonely and difficult. So sure, I might look like a caffeinated juggler spinning plates, it’s all about deciding which plates get my full attention and which can wobble a little.