I sometimes joke that my life can be measured in yarn. From the time I was a little girl, the threads of crochet have wound themselves around my days, tangling into memories of my grandmother, long afternoons of learning and the satisfaction of making something beautiful with my hands.
Back then, crochet was not a career or even a plan. It was simply love. My grandmother would sit on our verandah in the evenings, the golden light of the lamp falling over her as she showed me how to loop, twist and knot. I was fascinated by how a single strand could become a doily, a scarf or a delicate lace border. I never imagined this art would one day become my livelihood.
Life moved on, as it does. I grew up, got married and became a homemaker. Crochet remained a reliable companion — something I turned to after finishing my household chores, something I gifted to friends at weddings or stitched for my children. People would often admire my work, saying I should sell it. I would smile politely, secretly thrilled at the compliment, but in my heart I didn’t believe I had what it takes to run a business.
The doubts were endless. Where would I sell? Who would buy it? How would I even price my work? I knew nothing of marketing, design or the vast digital world where everyone seemed to be selling something. So I told myself that crochet was “just a hobby,” something small and private, safe from the intimidating world of commerce.
The turning point came in the most unexpected way. One afternoon, when Swabhiman team from Smile Foundation visited our community, I was curious but hesitant. They spoke about women’s empowerment, digital skills and the possibility of turning traditional crafts into income. I listened, half-convinced, until one of them looked directly at me and said, “Why not you, Sneha?”
That question unsettled me. Why not me? Why had I decided that entrepreneurship belonged only to people with English-speaking confidence, college degrees or big city connections? The Swabhiman trainers seemed to believe otherwise. With their encouragement, I joined their training sessions in digital marketing, communication and pricing. It was like opening a door to a room I never knew existed.
At first, I was nervous. The idea of posting my work on Instagram or listing products on Meesho felt alien. I stumbled through my first captions, debated endlessly about prices and second-guessed the colours I chose for my photos. But little by little, I learned. How to write a description that spoke to buyers. What about calculating the cost of yarn as well as the value of my time and skill. How to answer queries without feeling apologetic.
The day I sold my first piece online, I felt a rush that I can still recall vividly. It wasn’t just about the money (though that mattered), it was about being seen. A stranger had chosen something I made with my hands and paid for it. That small order told me I wasn’t just a homemaker with a hobby, I was a craftswoman, a businesswoman in the making.
With confidence came new milestones. I registered my venture as Crochet Lab and began treating it with the seriousness it deserved. I applied for GST registration, worked on consistent branding and slowly expanded from Meesho to Instagram. Today, I am preparing to take the next big leap, selling on Amazon and Flipkart.
But if you think this story ends with my personal success, you don’t know crochet. The joy of working with threads lies in how each loop is connected to the next, how one knot supports another. My journey with Crochet Lab has taught me that my growth is tied to the growth of other women around me.
When I see women in my community who remind me of myself a few years ago — full of talent but hesitant, skilled but unsure how to begin — I feel a strong urge to share what I have learned. Many of them can knit, sew or crochet. They create beautiful pieces, but their work stays confined within four walls. I want to help change that.
So now, my dream is not only about Crochet Lab’s success but about training other women to become entrepreneurs too. I want to conduct workshops where women learn not just the craft but also how to photograph their work, how to use WhatsApp Business, how to set prices and how to talk to customers. They too should feel the same surge of pride like I felt when I got my first order.
I imagine a future where groups of women run their own micro-businesses, where they are not dependent on anyone else’s earnings, where their children see them not just as caretakers but as leaders too. I want daughters to grow up thinking, “If my mother could do this, so can I.”
What makes me happiest is knowing that I did not do this alone. The support of Swabhiman team was the scaffolding that allowed me to climb higher. They did not hand me ready-made answers instead they gave me the tools to build my own path. That difference matters, because empowerment is not about being rescued, but about discovering your own strength.
When I look back, I see how easy it would have been to let crochet remain a hobby, a pastime tucked away in cupboards. But life had other designs for me. Today, every time I send out an order wrapped with care, I feel like I am sending out a piece of my grandmother’s legacy too. Her patient teaching, her steady hands, her faith in the craft lives on in every loop and pattern.
I don’t see myself as an extraordinary person. I am simply someone who followed a passion and dared, with the right support, to turn it into something more, to turn it into Crochet Lab. And if my story resonates with even one woman who is hesitating, I want her to hear this: your skill has value, your time has worth and your dreams deserve a chance to grow.
