The Making of The Fine Line

It was an incredible journey collaborating with Sakid Ahmed, founder of Saikah Studios, to produce this film. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would create a film with my parents as the supporting cast. It was an amazing experience to interview them and share it with the world. It took Sakib and me a year to produce this film. A lot of long nights and weekends went into making this. We couldn’t be happier to finally release this film to the public.

Growing Up Between Cultures & Not Fully Belonging

I came to Brooklyn from Bangladesh when I was just 2 years old, so this is all I have really known. But being first-generation simply means you’re constantly navigating two different worlds all at once. At home, there are certain kinds of expectations shaped by where your family came from, and outside, there’s a completely different set of influences shaping who you would become.

For me, that disconnect showed up quite early in the things I was drawn to. I was more into skateboarding, listening to rock music, and making art. This was not the norm in the Bangladeshi community I was growing up in.

Choosing Art When It Doesn’t Feel Like An Option

When I first began taking art seriously, it didn’t feel like I was chasing something exciting; it felt like I was pushing against something that didn’t want to move by itself. The conversation at home shifted too quickly and came to finances, stability, and reputation. My parents were surely not trying to discourage me, but their fear and protective side were real for me.

But hearing such kinds of concerns surely makes you question yourself. It makes you wonder if what you’re drawn to is worth the uncertainty that comes along with it. I tried my best to find a middle ground by choosing graphic design in college. It felt more like a safer version of art that consisted of something practical, something that I could explain. But even while I was doing it, I knew I wasn’t fully into it.

Finding My Identity Through Calligraphy & Engraving

What actually pulled me in wasn’t the safest version of art; it was calligraphy, then printmaking, along with engraving. This kind of work forced me to slow down in a way nothing else could. You can’t rush it, and of course, you can’t fake it. Every line requires attention, and every mistake stays with you.

It started simply by practicing on paper and repeating the same forms over and over again. But when I moved into engraving, something took a shift. Carving letters into metal felt completely different from writing on paper. It felt kind of permanent and intentional, like the work carried certain weight. That’s exactly when it stopped feeling like something I was experimenting with and started feeling like something I could dedicate myself to.

Rethinking Culture & Letting Go of Misconceptions

Growing up, my relationship with my culture was quite complicated, and there was comfort in being surrounded by people who would actually understand where my family came from, but there was also intense pressure that came along with it. A different kind of comparison, judgment, and a constant awareness of how others perceived you increasingly became a part of the environment.

For a very long time, I thought that was just my culture, but my eyes were left wide open when I went back to Bangladesh. I saw a completely different side, one that was quite creative, expressive, and much more layered than what I had experienced growing up. It made me realise that I have been looking at my identity through a very small and narrow lens.

From Resistance To Understanding

The kind of change with my parents didn’t happen instantly. There was not just a single moment when they completely agreed with all my decisions. It was slow, gradual, and was built over time with a lot of effort and consistency. I kept showing up, putting in the work, and taking what I was doing in a much more serious manner, even when I knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

Slowly and gradually, their perspective began to change. They started to see the discipline behind it, the kind of effort it required, and the kind of direction it was taking. It no longer looked like a risk and was seen more as a real and effective thing. That kind of shift meant a lot for me, not because I needed any kind of validation, but because it showed me something and made me understand that even unfamiliar things can finally be understood.

Building A Life Around Craft, Not Just A Career

When it started off with something small and personal, I didn’t expect it to take me this far in life. I have travelled across the U.S. and even to Sweden to learn engraving and push my work into new forms, especially with metal and jewelry. Every step has felt like an extension of the last, rather than a sudden breakthrough.

I am still in the process of figuring things out, still learning, still improving what I do. This isn’t just a story about having everything figured out already or reaching some kind of final destination; it’s about being in the middle of something and continuing to build on it even when you don’t see a final destination coming towards you.