Why Soumm Began With a Question, Not a Product

Dear Reader,

Why Soumm Began With a Question, Not a Product

Some things begin with an answer.

Others begin with a question.

Soumm began with a question.

Not a question about what product to create.

Not a question about what category to enter.

Not even a question about hair.

It was a quieter question.

What does it really mean to care for ourselves?

I think about that question often.

Because care is one of those words we use so easily that we sometimes forget to notice what it asks of us.

We say we care about our health.

We care about our hair.

We care about our skin.

We care about our families.

We care about our work, our homes, our futures.

And yet, somewhere between wanting to care and actually caring, something can get lost.

Perhaps it is attention.

Perhaps it is patience.

Perhaps it is simply the time to ask ourselves what we are doing—and why.

Before the ritual, there is a reason

There is something interesting about the way we live today.

Many of the things we do every day happen almost without thought.

We wake up and reach for our phones.

We brush our teeth.

We bathe.

We dress.

We eat.

We work.

We travel.

We return home.

We sleep.

And somewhere inside all of this, we may perform dozens of small acts of self-care without really experiencing them as care.

They become routine.

There is nothing inherently wrong with routine. In fact, behavioural research tells us that repetition in consistent contexts can turn behaviours into habits, making them easier and more automatic over time. ()

But I sometimes wonder whether there is a difference between doing something regularly and doing it intentionally.

The action may look exactly the same from the outside.

The experience can be completely different.

Applying oil to your hair can be a task.

Or it can be a few quiet minutes in which you slow down and pay attention.

Washing your hair can simply be something you need to finish before the day begins.

Or it can become an opportunity to notice how your scalp feels, how your hair has changed, and what your body may be asking from you.

A meal can be something consumed between meetings.

Or it can be something prepared and eaten with awareness.

A walk can be exercise.

Or it can simply be a way of returning to yourself.

The difference is not always the action.

Sometimes, it is the intention behind the action.

And that distinction stayed with me.

The question behind Soumm

When people hear the story of a brand, they often expect a beginning that sounds certain.

There is an idea.

There is a market.

There is a product.

There is a launch.

There is a plan.

But real beginnings are rarely that neat.

Some beginnings are periods of looking.

Of asking.

Of noticing what feels missing.

Of wondering whether something could be done with greater thoughtfulness.

That was the space in which Soumm began.

I kept returning to a simple feeling:

We have become very good at choosing products. But perhaps we need to become better at understanding care.

There are more choices than ever.

More ingredients.

More routines.

More recommendations.

More opinions.

More promises.

And yet, more information does not always create more understanding.

Sometimes it creates the opposite.

Confusion.

Comparison.

Impatience.

The feeling that we are always doing something wrong.

That our hair should be thicker.

Our skin clearer.

Our bodies different.

Our routines better.

Our lives more optimized.

Wellness can quietly become another form of pressure.

I did not want Soumm to add to that pressure.

I wanted it to create a little less of it.

What if wellness did not have to be loud?

I have always been drawn to things that become more meaningful when they become quieter.

A thoughtful conversation.

A handwritten note.

The smell of something familiar.

A slow morning.

A meal made at home.

The feeling of warm oil being worked gently through the hair.

The small rituals we inherit without always knowing where they came from.

There is something beautiful about these ordinary acts.

They do not ask to be photographed.

They do not need an audience.

They simply ask us to be present.

This idea has deep roots in Indian traditions of everyday care. Ayurveda, for example, has long described daily routines through the concept of dinacharya, encompassing practices of personal care, nourishment, sleep and daily rhythm. ()

That does not mean every traditional practice should automatically be treated as scientifically proven.

It means something else is worth noticing.

For centuries, many traditions understood that how we live each day matters.

Care was not necessarily separated into a product, a treatment, a weekend ritual or a special occasion.

It could be woven into ordinary life.

That idea feels remarkably relevant today.

We do not always need more

Perhaps one of the quietest lessons in wellness is that improvement does not always mean addition.

Sometimes it means subtraction.

Less noise.

Less comparison.

Less rushing.

Less reacting.

Less buying because we are afraid.

Less following someone else’s definition of what healthy, beautiful or successful should look like.

And perhaps more observation.

More understanding.

More patience.

More discernment.

More trust in our ability to make thoughtful choices.

Psychological research on motivation offers an interesting parallel. Self-determination theory has explored how autonomy—the experience of acting with a sense of volition rather than simply responding to external pressure—relates to motivation and wellbeing. ()

That matters to me because I don’t think wellness should make us feel controlled by an endless list of things we must do.

It should help us feel more capable of choosing.

There is a difference between:

“I have to do this because everyone says I should.”

and

“I understand why this matters to me, and I choose to make space for it.”

The second feels gentler.

It also feels more sustainable.

Why hair?

Eventually, the question had to meet something tangible.

For Soumm, that place was hair.

Hair is deeply ordinary and deeply personal at the same time.

We live with it every day.

We touch it.

Wash it.

Comb it.

Style it.

Cover it.

Care for it.

And for many people, it carries memories.

A mother’s hands oiling a child’s hair.

A grandmother’s advice.

A Sunday ritual.

The smell of an oil used for years.

A particular way of braiding.

A familiar comb.

A conversation that happened while someone sat quietly having their hair cared for.

Hair care has always been more than appearance.

It can carry culture.

Memory.

Identity.

Connection.

And that made it an honest place for Soumm to begin.

But beginning with hair did not mean ending there.

Because the deeper question was never simply:

“How do we care for our hair?”

It was:

“How do we learn to care—with greater intention?”

Hair simply gave that question a place to begin.

A product should come after a philosophy

This is perhaps the part of the Soumm story that matters most to me.

I do not want the product to be the reason you believe in the philosophy.

I want the philosophy to explain why the product exists.

That order matters.

A product can change.

An ingredient can change.

A package can change.

A category can change.

Even the way people care for themselves will continue to evolve.

But the reason behind the care can remain.

That is why Soumm is not intended to be only a collection of products.

It is intended to become a place for knowledge.

For questions.

For rituals.

For thoughtful conversations.

For understanding the ingredients we use.

For learning from experts.

For returning to practices that deserve to be understood rather than simply repeated.

For discovering that wellness does not always require doing more.

Sometimes it requires paying better attention to what we already do.

Knowledge before recommendation

I believe strongly that people deserve to understand before they are asked to choose.

If someone wants to learn about an ingredient, they should be able to learn about it.

If they want to understand a hair concern, they should have access to clear information.

If traditional wisdom is being discussed, its origins should be respected.

If modern research is available, it should be represented honestly.

And if the evidence is limited, we should be comfortable saying so.

There is dignity in uncertainty.

We do not need to pretend that we know everything.

In fact, perhaps one of the marks of trustworthy wellness is knowing where knowledge ends.

That is one of the principles I hope will remain at the heart of Soumm.

Not certainty for the sake of sounding authoritative.

But curiosity.

Not promises.

But understanding.

Not fear.

But informed choice.

Care begins before the bottle

This is why I return to the original question.

What does it really mean to care for ourselves?

Maybe it begins much earlier than we think.

Before the product.

Before the routine.

Before the purchase.

Before the treatment.

Before the mirror.

It begins with noticing.

How am I feeling?

What do I actually need?

Why am I choosing this?

Is this helping me feel more connected to myself—or simply more anxious about myself?

Is this something I genuinely value?

Can I give it time?

Can I learn before I judge?

Can I care without constantly trying to correct?

These are not questions with universal answers.

They are personal questions.

And perhaps that is exactly why they matter.

The meaning of a ritual

I have come to think that a ritual is not simply something we repeat.

A ritual is something we return to with meaning.

The difference can be subtle.

A routine asks:

What do I do next?

A ritual can ask:

How do I want to be present while I do it?

The two can coexist.

The same act can begin as a routine and gradually become a ritual when we bring attention back into it.

There is no need to make it elaborate.

A ritual does not require candles, music, expensive products or a perfectly quiet morning.

Sometimes it is simply five minutes without rushing.

Sometimes it is combing your hair gently rather than mechanically.

Sometimes it is massaging oil into the scalp with attention rather than treating it as another item to cross off a list.

Sometimes it is choosing not to do something because you have realised it does not serve you.

Care can be remarkably simple.

Why the question still matters

I sometimes wonder whether the easiest thing for a brand would have been to begin with an answer.

Here is the product.

Here is the promise.

Here is what you should do.

But answers can close conversations.

Questions keep them open.

And I want Soumm to remain open.

Open to better research.

Open to new understanding.

Open to traditional knowledge and responsible examination of it.

Open to different people and different ways of living.

Open to changing our minds when evidence changes.

Open to the possibility that wellness is not a destination we arrive at.

Perhaps it is a relationship we keep learning.

With our bodies.

With our habits.

With nature.

With time.

And with ourselves.

What I hope Soumm becomes

If you ask me what I hope Soumm becomes, the answer is larger than a product line.

I hope it becomes a trusted place to pause.

A place where someone can arrive with a question and leave with a little more clarity.

A place where knowledge is not used to intimidate, but to empower.

A place where beauty does not have to be separated from wellbeing.

A place where traditional wisdom can be respected without romanticising everything about it.

A place where science can be valued without making wellness feel cold or complicated.

A place where rituals can be simple.

Where quality can be quiet.

Where care does not come from fear.

And where a brand remembers that behind every decision is a person.

Someone with a busy morning.

Someone who may be tired.

Someone who may be confused by conflicting advice.

Someone who may simply want to take better care of themselves.

That person deserves honesty.

Perhaps every meaningful beginning starts this way

Looking back, I am glad Soumm did not begin with certainty.

Because the question gave us room to listen.

And perhaps that is what I would like to preserve as Soumm grows.

The willingness to keep asking.

To ask before assuming.

To understand before recommending.

To research before claiming.

To listen before speaking.

To care before selling.

The world does not necessarily need another voice telling people what they should buy.

Perhaps it needs more voices helping people understand why they choose what they choose.

That is the kind of voice I hope Soumm can become.

And that is why, for me, the story of Soumm will always begin with a question.

Not a product.

Not a promise.

A question.

How can we care better?

Perhaps you have your own answer.

Or perhaps, like me, you are still discovering the question.

Either way, I think that is a good place to begin.

With care.

With curiosity.

And with enough patience to let the answer unfold.

With warmth,Supriya BhandaryFounder, Soumm

Key takeaways

• Care begins with intention, not consumption.
• Routine and ritual can look similar while feeling very different.
• Wellness should empower choice rather than create pressure.
• Knowledge should precede recommendation.
• Traditional wisdom deserves respect without being presented as automatically proven.
• Scientific evidence and cultural knowledge can coexist when their boundaries are clearly understood.
• Hair care can be an entry point into a broader philosophy of wellbeing.
• A meaningful brand should stand for something deeper than its current products.
• Trust grows when a brand is comfortable acknowledging uncertainty.
• Intentional care begins with curiosity.

A note on evidence

Hair responds to many things at once: sleep, nutrition, hormonal changes, scalp condition and stress among them. Published here for education only; individual concerns should be discussed with a qualified healthcare professional.