About Us

PHASE 1: UNEARTHED

Mighty paws on ancient ground, A king's roar shakes the town.
Fearless, fierce, wild and free, The jungle bows—he holds the key.
T-24, the ruler's name, A legend carved in nature's flame.

PHASE 2: UNDERWATER

A hunter moves, the whispers spread, 'Man-eater!' they cry-painted red.
No proof, no voice, just fear and hate, Trapped in a story he didn't create.
A king now hunted, truth left behind, Lost in the waves of a fearful mind.

PHASE 3: SKYFALL

No more forests, no more skies, Only walls and helpless eyes.
His roar fades, his spirit tied, A king now lost, though still alive.
Not by claws, not by fight, But by man, he lost his right.

(Born to Rule)

UNEARTHED

Before the whispers,
before the chains, there was only him.
A pair of golden brown eyes cutting through
the silence of Ranthambhore.
Every step he took with his head held high,
made time pause.
He didn’t chase attention,
his strength demanded it.

T-24, known to the locals as Ustad,
didn’t rule through fear.
He ruled through presence.
The forest wasn’t his kingdom;
it was his reflection.
In a world that glorified hunters,
he reminded us what it meant to belong,
to move with purpose, to own your silence,
to wear strength like skin.

He was every shade of the jungle, amber like dawn,
deep green like patience,
and brown like the earth that carried his story.

The air around him changed, heavier, calmer, alive.
You didn’t just see Ustad, you felt him.
For those who crossed paths with him,
it wasn’t just a sighting.

It was an encounter.

A moment that made you stand taller,
breathe slower,
and believe in power that roars in silence.

This chapter is a tribute to that reign,
to a time when the world bowed,
not out of submission, but in awe.

The palette of Unearthed is born
from the soil he ruled,
deep greens, raw umbers, sunlit golds,
tones of life, legacy, and quiet authority.
It celebrates the grounded grace of a ruler
who never needed a crown.

In Unearthed, the brand takes its first breath.
Each piece carries the primal energy,
crafted for those who walk with intent
and quiet confidence.

If the wild had a wardrobe,
this would be Ustad’s,
a reflection of his strength,
his calm, and his command.

(Drowned in Lies)

UNDERWATER

Every reign meets a reckoning.
And for Ustad, it came not from nature’s fury,
but from man’s fear.

In October 2012, the forest trembled with rumours.
Two men had been found dead within his territory.

T24 was identified as the killer.
The officials called it an act of defence.
He hadn’t eaten the bodies.
For those who understood the wild, the truth was clear,
A tiger is only feared once he’s tasted human flesh.

It wasn’t as simple as it appeared,
“What if he’s dangerous?” the whispers began.
And slowly, suspicion began to stalk the king.

Still, Ustad walked his lands with confidence.
Every Wednesday, pilgrims passed by barefoot to a temple,
and every time, he stepped aside.
No growl. No conflict. Just calm understanding.
He ruled not by force, but by control,
the kind only true power commands.

Then came May 8th, 2015.
A forest guard, Rampal Saini, was found dead.
Half-eaten.
The forest went still.
A tourist jeep reported seeing a tiger
sitting on Rampals’ body.
When the officials arrived,
they found him, T-24.
But he wasn’t feeding.
He wasn’t fleeing.
He was sniffing the air,

Almost… confused.

Had he killed, he would have known.
A tiger never forgets its kill.
But this wasn’t his doing.
He just happened to be at the wrong place
at the wrong time.

The forest department knew his son,
T-72, aka Sultan.
Young. Aggressive, sharing the same territory as his father, had vanished.
But the locals didn’t care for the truth.
They already had a name cemented in their heads.

And the name they chose was Ustad.
“Ustad has killed again.”

No proof. No trial. No mercy.
Just a decision, swift, final, cruel.
He was to be taken away.
The forest that moved with him now stood still,
as its ruler was led away.
Not for what he did,
but for what men feared he could.

And just like that,
Ranthambore lost its heartbeat.

(The Caged King)

AFTERLIFE

They called it relocation.
But for Ustad, it was exile.

The forest that once bowed at his stride
watched in silence as he was taken away,
not as predator, not as protector,
but as a prisoner.

Behind the walls of the biological reserve in Udaipur,
the king met stillness he had never known before.
No rustle of deer. No whisper of trees.
Only concrete, and eyes watching him through bars.

He refused their offerings,
the meat thrown over the fence, lifeless and cold.
For days, he would not eat.
Because a king does not dine on pity.
When he finally did, it was on his own terms,
hunting within captivity, reminding the world
that even caged, he was never conquered.

Outside those walls, his name roared louder than ever.
For the first time in history, a PIL was filed for a tiger.
People marched.
Held vigils.
Lit candles that burned through bureaucracy and blame.
They carried signs that read “Bring Ustad Back”,
not for the tiger alone,
but for everything he had come to stand for:
Dignity. Resilience. Grace. Truth.

He remained in confinement for seven long years.
Still regal. Still untamed.
Until December 22, 2022, when bone cancer
took what fear and politics could not.
He died in silence,
but not in vain.

This final chapter, Afterlife, is painted in greys, blacks, and whites.
The palette of memory and mourning.
But also of peace.
Because grief, when held with love, becomes remembrance.

For T~24, the brand, this is not an ending.
It is the becoming.
Every silhouette, every fabric, every detail
is an offering to his story,

to the dignity of those who were misunderstood,
to the quiet strength of those who rise even after falling.

If Unearthed was his roar
and Underwater his silence,
then Afterlife is his immortality.