Meaningful doesn’t need to be perfect.

In February 2025, I wrote a note with my son in mind. He was approaching sixteen, nearing the end of school, and facing the uncertainty of what came next. As a parent, I sensed his apprehensions and self-doubt.

Mark Knopfler’s “All That Matters” was a starting reference, with Rudyard Kipling’s “If—” somewhere at the back of my mind. I wanted to tell my son something simple: keep going. Even when you can’t see it yet, there is light ahead.

I hadn’t imagined these words would become a song. This is where they led.

I’ve learnt piano, though I’m far from a proficient player. I began working on a melody, and once I was happy with its overall shape, I wanted to take it further.

I approached my old friend Anand Kurhekar, a music director and composer with decades of experience. I brought him my melody and some references, and together we developed the first version, ready in September 2025.

Then work took precedence, and the song sat for a few months. An attempt to develop it further didn’t work out. By the following spring, I decided to begin again with a fresh arrangement.

Anand and I made a few changes to the melody, and I took the arrangement in a new direction. I worked with Lautaro Massolini in Argentina, who recorded the instrumental tracks. With those tracks and my vocals brought together, I still felt something was missing. The song needed more depth.

That led me to a string quartet. Nicolas Ocampo, an orchestra conductor in Argentina, understood the brief and created the string arrangement you hear today. I recorded my final vocals with Anand, then worked with Chris McAllister in the US on mixing and mastering.

Throughout the process, my brother Kshiteesh Deshmukh helped with sound design and equipment selection. He also helped me think things through, offered feedback and helped me keep moving.

This project was produced by my wife, Mayura Deshmukh, whose financial support helped bring it to life.

More than a year passed between writing those words and releasing the song. Somewhere along the way, I began to realise that it was as much for me as it was for my son.

When things haven’t gone the way I’d hoped, I’ve found perspective and reassurance in it. I keep going back to it.

Ae Mere Dil was written for my son and is dedicated to him. Over time, its words have become something I need to hear too.