As a DJ, producer, and cultural organizer, Sejal Kargal moves fluidly between worlds. Drawing from her Carnatic music background and diasporic experience, she’s building platforms like UNDEFINED and rosewater that center underrepresented voices in the global music scene. From New York to Lisbon, Sejal’s work is about creating spaces that feel expansive—where identity isn’t something to be explained, but experienced.
How has your Carnatic training informed your experimental and genre-bending approach to music today?
SK: Carnatic music is all about how you move between the notes — it’s one of the oldest and most intricate classical systems in the world. That understanding of melody, rhythm, and emotional storytelling completely shaped how I hear and feel music. It taught me discipline, breath control, and attention to small details — like being able to hear something and immediately play it. More than anything, it taught me how to weave emotion and roots together to tell a story, and that’s become the backbone of everything I do.
What was the moment you realized you wanted to legitimize your organizing work and create platforms like UNDEFINED and rosewater?
SK: It really came from never feeling like I belonged anywhere. I’ve always existed under multiple umbrellas — American-born Desi, South Asian, a woman in male-dominated spaces — but none of those labels fully captured who I was. I wanted to create something that felt like home for people like me.
That’s how UNDEFINED was born — it’s literally tattooed on me as the “1 over 0” symbol in Sanskrit. It came from my experience building the first rosewater in Oakland, where I led music curation and gave underrepresented artists their first platform. Seeing them grow — releasing albums, performing regularly — that’s what made me realize I wanted to keep building spaces like this.
When people walk into rosewater, I want them to feel like they’re being told, “Welcome home.” It’s a chosen family kind of space — fluid, inclusive, and rooted in genuine community.
Sejal-Kiera – StudioHow do you navigate the balance between honoring your heritage and pushing boundaries in your art?
SK: For me, honoring my heritage means doing things with pure intentions — not capitalizing or tokenizing culture for likes or profit. It’s about creating from a place of truth.
We’re seeing so many diaspora creatives sharing their work, which is amazing, but I think we need to be careful. If every other event becomes a “Chai rave” or “Diwali party,” we’re not honoring our roots — we’re just commodifying them. I want to create with purpose, not as a trend.
You’ve performed all over the world — how have audiences responded to your sound?
SK: People really love it. When I play Marathi or Kannada songs, people will come up to me recognizing it, and even non–South Asian crowds respond so warmly. In places like Lisbon or Barcelona, people might not understand the lyrics, but they still connect to the emotion. That’s the beauty of music — it brings people together without needing full understanding. You can appreciate something deeply without having to intellectualize it.
You’ve built spaces for artists who don’t always fit the mainstream. What challenges come with that?
SK: A big one is that people always want you to define things — what genre, what community, what label. But I don’t believe in that. Creativity shouldn’t be boxed in for marketing or algorithms. UNDEFINED exists for the artists who resist categorization — the queer, the alternative, the ones who feel othered.
It’s not easy, because when you create something inclusive, people will still try to tell you who it’s “for.” But I’m an artist first, not a corporation. I’m just trying to fill the gaps that mainstream spaces overlook.
Visual aesthetics clearly play a role in your artistry. How do fashion and performance influence your work?
SK: Fashion has always been a part of my creative expression. I did freelance modeling early on, often with South Asian-owned brands, and I love exploring Indo-Western fusion — how I can be alternative and still rooted.
I’ve always raided my mom’s jewelry box — even now, she gets mad when I take her old pieces but then sees how I rework them. The women in my family inspired my maximalist aesthetic — mixed metals, layered jewelry, bold earrings. I also love drapey, flowy fabrics that remind me of traditional wear but feel modern and archival. My outfits are intentional extensions of my heritage, remixed through my own lens.
How do you build trust and genuine connection within the diasporic and BIPOC networks you’re part of?
SK: To me, if I can go solo and still feel safe and seen, that’s how I know it’s a good environment.
Building trust comes from pure intentions. I can tell when someone’s organizing just for clout versus community. You can’t expect your community to show up for you if you’re not showing up for them. Real community is built by showing up — donating, supporting artists, being present. That’s the energy I bring into everything I do.
What are your dreams for yourself and your work?
SK: Honestly, to slow down. I work full-time in tech, I’m an MBA student, I run UNDEFINED, I DJ, and I’m an independent artist. I’ve stretched myself thin trying to do it all.
Lately, I’ve been returning to why I started: to create for myself. I don’t want to worry about KPIs or algorithms. I just want to create and perform when it calls to me — to post, share, and let go. Because I can’t produce for my community at my best until I feel refreshed myself.