Journeying to One’s Ikigai: A Founder’s Story
Occupying the Last Bench
Sriram recalls growing up with a strong, independent streak. Even as a toddler in Bhopal, where he lived for the first six years of his life, he was fetched from school by an auto driver, who then dropped him off at a friend’s place. With both parents working – his father at a bank, his mother at a school – he hung about at the friend’s till their return.
That early taste of autonomy translated into a self-belief that did not accord well with nerdy first-benchers. What Sabhapathy recalls most vividly about his school years in Chennai, where he studied from Standards 1 through 12, were pranks played and mischief plotted from the wicked, twinkle-eyed last benches.
One Diwali, since he had started bursting crackers well before the festival rolled in, a spark lit a neighbor’s thatched roof. Rushing to the neighbor’s house to inform the Aunty, Sriram was lauded for his proactive warning. When the fire was quickly doused, the Aunty was grateful for being alerted. With a chuckle, he recalls: “Only I was aware of the irony: of also being the perpetrator.”
Finding Strong Interests
Inside classrooms, his inventive brain leaped to other scenarios and what-ifs. “At school, I would always be thinking up things like, ‘What can you scribble on someone’s shirt?’” His mother resigned herself to being called in, every now and then, to hear teachers carping about her son’s playfulness or inattention.
His mind wasn’t just leaping from prank to prank. He was filled with a kind of restless energy, needing to jump from activity to activity. In the process, he started discovering pursuits that could yoke his interest for longer.
Like Carnatic music, which he signed up for, on his own accord, while surreptitiously listening in to his sister’s lessons. When the teacher noticed Sabhapathy peeping through the window, she asked him to join the classes. He recalls that it wasn’t “cool” in those days, for boys to express interest in singing. But he was drawn to the sounds and wanted to produce them.
He persisted with his singing lessons for six years. In that time, he also learned the rudiments of the mridangam and guitar. He was too young to realize it then, and perhaps his teachers had missed it too: he wasn’t distracted when something seized his interest.
Developing Commercial Acumen
That capacity for deep attention was to show up again in Standards 11 and 12 when he chose to study Commerce. At DAV, the Chennai school reputed for producing legions of IITians, this was considered offbeat. As it happened, the decision was the right one. Because in those two years, Sabhapathy turned from a middling student into a school topper.
Fortunately, his zesty energy hadn’t been tamped down either. Channeling that extra verve in other directions, he signed up to be the Cultural Secretary, actively involving himself in school plays and interschool activities. Like Adzap – which required conjuring ads in a zippy two minutes – or JAM (Just a Minute) or Dumb Charades.
In 2004, he was admitted to the prestigious and intensely competitive SRCC (Shri Ram College of Commerce) in Delhi. In his year, there were only a handful of kids admitted to the college from South India, and Sriram was the only student from Chennai.
Overcoming Delhi’s Newness
At first, the new college was intimidating. After all, Sriram and his family hadn’t traveled much. Like many middle-income families, their forays were limited to proximal cities and towns. As Sabhapathy puts it: “The thought of traveling beyond to other places never occurred to us.”
Delhi felt foreign. He spoke only a smattering of Hindi, while around him, brash Northerners paraded a jaunty self-confidence. It wasn’t just the language. Students were dressed fashionably, consciously flaunting Nike swooshes and Adidas trefoils. Being sized up for dressing more simply – in jeans, T-shirts and kurtas – was discomfiting in his first year. “When you’re among the few looking different, it’s difficult.”
Besides the steep fashion quotient, the academic competition was intense. After all, SRCC drew toppers from all over the nation. Sriram found himself pitted against the nimblest bean counters and whizziest economists. He confesses, at that time, he suffered from “imposter syndrome.”
But soon enough, he started learning the ropes. And engaged with other dimensions of the college. Selected into SRCC’s dramatics society, he joined their street theatre group, an activity that also fueled his spoken Hindi. In the first year, they put up a play titled “Don’t Worry, Chalne Do, Chaltha Hai Jaisa”. By the second year, when they performed “Paakhand” (which means hypocrisy), Sriram had found his niche.
Sparking Off A Lifelong Passion
Around then, folks started acquiring phones with cameras. Sabhapathy had always fidgeted with cameras as a kid, but the proliferation of these “snapping” devices stoked his curiosity. Fiddling with his own Nokia phone, he started clicking pictures. Soon enough, he bought himself a 4-megapixel Kodak digital camera to take pictures in and around college.
In his third year, his batch did a study on farmer suicides in Punjab. Intrigued by the social situation, Sriram was also kicked about traveling to another place. Inside rural Punjab, students were mapped to different streets. Sabhapathy was so moved by the material they gathered, he captured everything on video.
And stitched together a documentary on their project. He still recalls the fervor with which he traveled to Nehru Place, to burn CDs with his vignettes. He wasn’t working yet, but he was already learning to hustle.
At college, he showed the film to two Professors, who were so impressed, they suggested he apply to film school (FTII). Abdul Kalam, who was the President then, evinced interest in the college students’ findings. The college sent him Sriram’s documentary. It was thrilling no doubt, as an undergraduate, to have his first film sent to the President of the country.
As Sriram claims, this was his first attempt at anything documentary and formally to do with visual creatives.
Gaining Impact Experience
As it turned out, Sabhapathy did not head to film school. Instead, he joined EY in their advisory practice. While he enjoyed work during the day, he saved up to buy a digital SLR camera “which meant I was still serious about photography.” He moved to Chennai with EY and started pursuing small photo gigs on the side. And posting pics on Facebook.
During his photowalks around the city, he couldn’t help noticing cracks and disparities. Besides clicking pics, he wished to help bridge gaps between the haves and have-nots. In his spare time, he volunteered with an NGO called Deepam, imparting Computer Science and English to low-income kids. Over time, he spearheaded the non-profit’s operations on a part-time basis.
He sensed, too, that a lot of impact organizations lacked compelling visual materials. He started doing photoshoots for a few. To help finance specific projects, he even founded and ran a non-profit called Social Investment Foundation of India (SIFI), supported by his wife, Niveditha Viswanathan, and best friend, Venkatesh. SIFI was active from 2011 till about 2016 when Sriram and his co-founder, Venkatesh, decided to wind it down for operational reasons.
Garnering an MBA and Education Experience
In the meanwhile, choosing to propel his corporate career, he applied to ISB for its one-year MBA program. Post his ISB stint, he joined an education startup, Deeksha Learning, where he started and led their ed-tech vertical. Keen on garnering an insider’s view on education, he eventually joined Ekya Schools, where he built out management verticals to handle various functions.
Pivoting to the Gig Economy
On a personal front, photography continued to tug at him. The remorse of not having pursued something so close to his heart started bothering him much more now. He yearned to get back behind the lens, to view the world with an artist’s keenness. Besides his wife, who had always been a bulwark through his journey, strongly urged him to follow his dream: “Niveditha has known me since college. She is almost always the first person to see anything I shoot and there’s no better critic and well-wisher than her.”
Quitting his job, he embarked on a personal deep dive, sans a concrete plan. With the financial means to sustain a six-month hiatus, he traveled to new places and clicked, clicked, clicked. Gradually, assignments started trickling in. Some pro bono, others paid. His main objective was to accumulate experiences in a field that thrilled him. From detailing a non-profit’s thrust to capturing the magic of a wedding, from family portraits to corporate shoots, from still images to video stories, he embraced every opportunity that came his way.
Experimenting in this manner, he sensed that he was particularly skilled at crafting video narratives. Determined to explore that elusive meeting point between his talents and monetizable market needs, he zealously reached out to his network. To contacts on social media, to folks in the impact space, ex-corporate colleagues, fellow ISB alumni, and even DAV classmates from his Chennai school years. To his delight, an influx of projects rolled in, all paid work.
With each engagement, he ensured that he left a distinct mark. For instance, while working with Saumya Tiwary and Babita Sinha, Founders of Your Green Canvas, his approach went beyond shooting films. He delved into the founders’ stories and garnered a deep understanding of their objectives. Marrying his business acumen from his consulting years and ISB degree with the creative flair that had characterized his camera work, he wove purposeful narratives.
Founding The LastBench Studio
Towards the end of 2019, Sriram was inundated with projects. To handle the load, he could collaborate with other freelancers or hire folks to work for him. Just as the idea of employing talent started taking root, the world was ensnared by the pandemic. Undeterred, on April 1st, 2020, Sabhapathy resolved to make this something larger than himself.
The words “Last Bench” had always been echoing inside his head, so he named the enterprise “LastBench Studio”, evoking memories of impish, carefree school days. In ten more days, he set up a website. By the end of May, the early team members came on board – a fresher from an engineering college who exuded a fervent love for cinema, a true blue artist with a sculpting background, and an ex-colleague from Ekya who had always been a creative partner. More than inherent skills, Sriram sought passion and keenness to learn.
His own dalliances with the camera had also given Sriram a discerning eye. Not only for standout pictures but also for artistic talent. Sifting through the glut on social media, he identified potential hires or collaborators.
One such discovery was a designer in Nagercoil, Tamil Nadu, who shaped the LastBench logo. Another was a sculptor trained at Chitrakala Parishath, a versatile thinker who could dabble across mediums. “Initially, we were just three people working out of a small space. It happened to be a client’s office – a design studio – that wasn’t occupied because of Covid.”
Retaining The Studio’s Originality
While handling corporate or impact projects, the team was keen on preserving the creative thrust that had pushed them towards an offbeat field, to begin with. They made a pact that they would always create originals – stuff that they were personally driven to explore. These would be fueled by their commercial work. Some originals created so far include a documentary on the Blossom Book House, and another titled “Walls” on street art in the city.
Going Viral With Folk Cricket
Since Sabhapathy and many team members were avid cricket fans, they were inspired by the IPL season to introduce a novel genre: folk cricket. Blending folk art intrinsic to various Indian states, their artist, Raaj Rufaro, fused player faces with local art forms: MS Dhoni was rendered in Bommalattam, Rohit Sharma in Worli, Virat Kohli in Togalu Gombeyata.
When the final outcome was released – eight downloadable folk cricket cards and a poster – the story went viral. “Like crazily viral,” says Sriram. Every major magazine and newspaper carried the story, including the Times of India, The Indian Express, The Deccan Herald, The Hindu, and Your Story. The team was even featured on Star Sports. All this coverage hadn’t been planned for. But the story helped bolster their reputation, so they could hire more people.
Sustaining Growth
In just three years, LastBench Studio has grown to 15 employees. To cover rising overheads, they ensure a consistent inflow of commissioned projects. A significant share of these – about 50 to 60% – are in the impact space. Unlike most startups, they are cash positive and profitable, from day one. Moreover, Sabhapathy has already introduced profit-sharing mechanisms, to infuse a sense of collective reward. Thanks to its growing reputation, the studio now attracts work through word-of-mouth recommendations, extending beyond the founder’s network.
Beyond growth, which the team seems poised to achieve, they genuinely have fun at work. Many employees commute long distances to be at the office, despite there being no strict imperatives to be physically present. In an office space that’s been designed by the team – with even the doors painted in exuberant colors – they exude a camaraderie that’s rare in the WFH era.
As Sriram puts it, he’s grown younger since founding the enterprise. Unsurprisingly, he was invited back to ISB, to advise students on finding their “ikigai” – a joyful, bill-paying life that many professionals yearn to discover.
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