धागा
Studio
"Dhaga" means thread. We chose the name because threads connect — stories to listeners, players to characters, one generation to the next.
We believe games can be quiet. That a pause can be as powerful as an explosion. That the most universal stories are often the most specific.
We make games about the textures of everyday life in South Asia — the sound of a pressure cooker, the smell of rain on dry earth, the weight of a phone call from home. We believe these details are not "niche." They are human.
We build small. We take our time. We do not crunch. We believe a studio should be a place you want to return to each morning — like a favourite book, like a well-tended garden.
We make games for people who read. For people who linger. For people who find beauty in patience.
धागे जोड़ते हैं — कहानियों को सुनने वालों से, खिलाड़ियों को किरदारों से। हम छोटे खेल बनाते हैं, धीरे-धीरे, प्यार से।
We work from a converted textile workshop in Koregaon Park, Pune. The building is old — crumbling plaster, high ceilings, a courtyard with a neem tree that has been here longer than any of us. We keep books on every surface. There is always chai.
Half of us are here most days. The other half work from wherever they are — Bangalore, Jaipur, sometimes further. We gather fully twice a year: once for a week of play-testing and planning, once for a week of doing nothing productive at all.
Creative Director
Former literary translator. Thinks in metaphors. Believes every mechanic should be a verb the character would actually use.
Technical Director
Studied music composition before pivoting to code. Builds tools that feel like instruments — expressive, responsive, imperfect in the right ways.
Art Director
Textile artist turned game designer. Her palette comes from natural dyes — turmeric, indigo, madder. Every screen should feel like handmade cloth.
Sound Designer
Narrative Designer
Programmer
Monday Readings. We begin each week by reading aloud — a poem, a passage, a lyric. Nothing to do with work. Everything to do with how we want to feel while working.
Wednesday Playtest. Every Wednesday afternoon, someone presents something unfinished. The only rule: feedback must begin with what you felt, not what you think should change.
Friday Wind-Down. We stop at 4pm on Fridays. No exceptions. Sometimes we play games together. Sometimes we just sit in the courtyard.
Seasonal Offsites. Twice a year we go somewhere quiet — a hill station, a coastal village. Once to plan. Once to rest.