Akhilism of Wearable Utilitarianism

New Indian Express

18 hours ago

At first glance, Akhil Anand looks like any other 14-year-old with a sketchbook. But hand him a pen and a pile of geometry, and you'll witness something quietly radical—a mind that bends maths into mandalas, endangered animals into caped crusaders, and centuries-old art styles into modern merch. The Chennai teen calls it Akhilism—an ever-evolving world of patterns, creatures, stories, and sharp lines where art is both a canvas and a conscience.
Blame the brainy genes. Son of chess grandmaster Viswanathan Anand and arts educator Aruna Anand, Akhil grew up in a home where logic and imagination weren't at odds—they danced together. 'Numbers were never scary,' he says, casually flipping through a sketchbook of elephants reimagined as protectors of forests, each trunk curling into spirals of Fibonacci perfection. 'Appa used to make me solve logic puzzles for fun, and amma always filled bedtime with stories of gods, painters, and wild animals. Somewhere in the middle, I started drawing my own versions.'
During the pandemic, when most teens were discovering banana bread and binge-watching K-dramas, Akhil stumbled into the world of pointillism—an art form that uses tiny dots to form images. 'I liked how it felt like a puzzle,' he says. 'You don't know what you're making until you step back and look at all the dots together.' The idea of Akhilism was born not just from this technique, but from a playful rhyme with pointillism. 'Amma and I laughed about the word, and then we thought—why not make it a brand?' And so, Akhilism slowly grew from a doodle on a notebook to an idea that could live on mugs, bags, T-shirts, and veshtis. 'It was never a plan,' he shrugs. 'I just drew whatever I felt like, and then Amma said, 'Hey, this would look great on a tote bag!''
But don't be fooled by the casual tone—Akhil's work is steeped in research, heritage, and heart. From Warli stick figures dancing in moonlight to Gond-inspired animal forms layered with geometry, his pieces tap into the deep reservoir of Indian folk traditions. 'Indian art is so cool,' he insists. 'The lines, the storytelling… even something simple has layers.' One of his early artworks—an owl with eyes shaped like the Sri Yantra—was inspired by a trip to a village crafts mela. 'I met this artisan who painted birds on clay pots and told me about symbols that protected homes,' Akhil recalls. 'I went home and started doodling guardians—birds, tigers, snakes—all with shapes I had seen in maths class!'