Other funding  metrics

Malvika’s studio has finally finished the demo. The  art holds the vibrancy and grit of Mumbai without  flattening it, and the narrative lands in the places they  care about, where softer interactions make a city  feel like home. They built it for PC and mobile so the project has room to travel. 

For weeks, they have been writing to their networks of  VCs and investors asking for meetings. Most replies  arrive quickly and end in the same place: narrative  games are considered niche and risky, portfolios are  leaning toward RPGs and action titles, and the market  rewards safer bets. The one conversation they secured made the pattern  clearer. Before the demo even loaded, the questions  circled around retention curves, monetisation loops,  and how fast the returns might appear. When  someone asked if a cosy game was “worth putting  money into right now,” the room fell quiet for a  moment. It was obvious the game did not fit the  metrics those investors were calibrated for. 

There is one VC they are still hopeful about, led by a  woman known for backing work that expands what  the Indian ecosystem can look like. She has funded  different kinds of games before, taking risks that make  more variation possible. The studio sent their pitch  earlier this week. As their producer said while hitting  send, “If anyone will get what we’re trying to do, it  might be her.” Now they are watching their inbox,  waiting for a reply. 

Rare role models

Malvika is in Hyderabad for a gaming conference,  moving between her panel prep and the mentoring  sessions she signed up for. Her schedule is full, but  she keeps finding time for community work because  she remembers how few women she saw in these  spaces when she started. 

Backstage, she bumps into Bhargavi, a former  colleague. They catch up with each other quickly, then  look around at the room filling up for their all-women’s  panel. Bhargavi smiles and says, “Six or seven years  ago, this room would have looked quite different.”  They talk about how much has shifted, wondering if  the rise of mobile gaming played a role in opening  access and pulling more women into the industry. 

After the panel, a young developer approaches her,  nervous but determined. She says it means a lot to  see women on stage and that it helps her believe  there is room for her too. The comment stays with  Malvika. It reminds her why she keeps showing up,  even when progress feels slow. There is still a long way to go before women in  gaming feel connected, supported, and able to build  space together rather than in pockets. But moments  like this make Malvika believe the landscape is slowly  widening, one visible role model at a time. 

Awards for visibility

In their first year as a studio, they decided to make  a small project just for themselves. It felt like the  clearest test of independence. Someone on the team  had said, “What is the point of being independent if  we can’t create what we actually want?” The game they made was often called a cosy game,  though they never thought of it that way. It had  characters drawn from people they recognised in Surat and gentle mechanics with a few experimental  twists. The art leaned into familiar details from  their own streets: carved doorways, mirrored shop  ornaments, the shape of local autos. They self-published it with no expectations beyond  the satisfaction of finishing something that felt true to  them. For a few weeks it found small traction through  friends and community shares, then disappeared into  the stream of new releases. 

Nine months later, an email changed everything.  The game had been nominated for a new women in-gaming award, a category created to spotlight women-led studios and the work they bring into the  industry. Winning it brought a wave of attention they never anticipated: features in gaming magazines,  invitations to panels, interviews about their process,  bursts of social media interest and a fresh surge of  players discovering the game. The recognition was  unexpected, but it reignited the studio’s momentum  and revealed a clear interest in experimental Indian  games that break from the usual mould. 

Designing differently

Malvika’s studio hosts a game ideation session on the  first Friday of every month. All seven of them gather in  the main room of their Surat flat, shifting chairs until  everyone fits around the table. They started these  sessions because most of them came from places  where ideas depended on who was in the room rather  than what was on the page. Here, they try to make  space for everyone to contribute. 

Midway through the session, Malvika, the junior  designer, says she has an idea she wants to share. It is  a narrative game about a young person growing up in  Mumbai, moving through small adventures across the  city, paced slowly enough for moments of reflection.  She imagines interactions shaped by everyday  decisions and a tone attentive to player wellbeing. 

The group sits with it. They know they need mobile  projects that pay the bills, but they also want to create  the kinds of games they rarely see being made. Malvika  looks up and says, “We could be on to something.  Maybe this is the one we experiment with this year.” Ideas begin to build. Someone suggests a relational  mechanic where the city shifts in response to the  player’s emotional choices, not as rewards but  as changes in atmosphere or access. Another  proposes weaving in sound cues drawn from real  neighbourhoods. By the end of the hour, they agree the idea will need  time and shaping, but they want to take it forward. They  will put together a small demo and see what the game  becomes.