**The Humble Journey of DJ Aravind (Skylit)**

**From Fisherman Village to International Beats**

For many DJs, the path to the booth is linear—early musical training, natural talent, or immediate immersion in club culture. But for Aravind, known by his DJ names Skylit and Vasio, the journey has been anything but conventional. His nine-year career is marked not by overnight success or natural gifts, but by quiet determination, honest self-reflection, and an unwavering commitment to serving the music and the people who dance to it.

Roots in Unlikely Soil

Aravind's story begins in Nagapattinam, a small fisherman village seven hours from Chennai, India—a place where the very concept of DJing was virtually unknown. There were no turntables in his childhood, no music production classes at school, no local club scene to inspire him. His passion was basketball, and he pursued it with such dedication that he nearly earned a university scholarship.

When financial constraints forced him to abandon that dream and enter the workforce, Aravind found himself searching for a new outlet. He stumbled upon EDM music not through any musical background—he rarely listened to music except to focus before basketball games—but through a simple, honest question during a period when music festivals weren't happening: "Why can't I be the DJ?"

It's a question that reveals something essential about Aravind's character: rather than waiting for permission or prerequisites, he simply asked himself what was possible.

The Long, Quiet Beginning

What followed wasn't a meteoric rise. Aravind took classes and started from zero. The first six months yielded not a single show. The next six months brought just one more. These are the kinds of statistics most success stories gloss over, but they define Aravind's approach: persistent, patient, unadorned by illusions of instant success.

He kept at it, and slowly, the shows came—weekly gigs, then a residency at one of his city's premier clubs. But even with this success, Aravind remained grounded in the work itself. While many DJs stop practicing once they secure regular bookings, Aravind invests two hours or more every day "hunting the music"—searching for the right tracks, the perfect remixes, the sounds that will move people in ways they haven't experienced before.

He's candid about his limitations: "I might not practice mixing much anymore," he admits. But this honesty points to where his true dedication lies—not in technical showmanship, but in curation, in understanding, in the patient, unglamorous work of discovering what will truly resonate.

A Philosophy of Service

Aravind's approach to DJing is notable for what it isn't focused on: himself. He doesn't see the DJ booth as a platform for ego or personal expression alone. Instead, he views himself as a storyteller, an educator, a guide.

"It is the DJ's job to show people what good music is," he explains. His greatest satisfaction doesn't come from playing crowd-pleasing bangers—though he does that skillfully—but from introducing people to sounds they've never heard, music they didn't know they needed.

This philosophy manifests in meticulous preparation that most audiences will never see. Aravind sometimes visits a venue two weeks before a performance, observing the crowd, noting the tempo and energy of the music, understanding the room's psychological baseline. He approaches each set not as a chance to impose his taste, but as an opportunity to meet people where they are and take them somewhere new.

When playing commercial sets, he employs a "wave form" approach with five stages of energy—warming up, building, peaking, incorporating singalongs, and managing the descent—ensuring the crowd doesn't burn out too quickly. Every choice is made in service of the audience's experience, not his own ego.

Managing two distinct identities—Skylit for commercial music, Basio for techno and house—isn't about brand building. It's an honest acknowledgment of his wide-ranging love for music and his desire to serve each genre authentically rather than forcing them into a single, marketable package. He calls this eclecticism both "a strength and a weakness," showing the self-awareness of someone who understands his own trade-offs.

Humility in a New Land

When Aravind moved to Sydney for an IT opportunity after COVID-19, he could have rested on his previous success. Instead, he started over with the same humble persistence that defined his early days.

The first three to four months brought out a lot of obstacles and challenges. He sent mixes out, reached out to countless people in the Sydney DJ scene, and heard nothing back—or worse, felt the sting of being viewed differently because of where he came from. The experience could have embittered him or inflated into a narrative of victimhood. Instead, Aravind speaks about it with clear-eyed honesty: "Coming from India, people often view you differently, which can deeply impact confidence."

His breakthrough came not from a big break or industry connection, but from a simple, humble request. At a club called Cliff D, he asked a DJ if he could play during downtime—when no one was on the floor. That small crowd stayed and danced. Not for hours, but long enough to remind him why he does this work: the "intense longing to do what you love."

Rather than dwelling on the difficulty, Aravind reframes it: those initial hardships and differences can become advantages, allowing you to "bring something new" and "shine." It's the perspective of someone who's learned to see obstacles as opportunities without denying that they're obstacles.

Dreams Without Delusion

Aravind's aspirations are ambitious—playing festivals worldwide, performing at Tomorrowland, creating music that moves people even when they don't recognize the tracks. But there's a groundedness to how he articulates these goals, a recognition that they're waypoints on a journey, not destinations that will somehow validate him.

"If I want to play an underground set, I want to play music where no one should know what song I'm playing, but still they want to trip to the song," he says. It's a goal centered not on fame or recognition, but on craft—on being so good at reading and moving a room that the familiar becomes unnecessary.

Most tellingly, when asked about his ultimate aim, Aravind doesn't talk about topping festival bills or releasing hit tracks. He talks about giving back to the community, about giving people a good time. His best recognition, he says, comes from "seeing people tapping their feet and dancing on the floor."

The Wisdom of the Grind

Aravind's advice to aspiring DJs is strikingly simple: "Just be real."

Behind those three words is the sum of his experience—the six-month drought of no shows, the daily hunt for music, the research trips to venues, the rejections in a new country, the choice to serve the music rather than chase trends. Being real means continuous hard work without complaining about it. It means seeking feedback without becoming defensive. It means maintaining mental strength through inevitable self-doubt.

"The goal is not just winning," Aravind concludes, "but taking the journey and having fun."

From a fisherman village where DJing was unknown to the clubs of Sydney and beyond, Aravind's story isn't one of natural talent or lucky breaks. It's the story of someone who keeps showing up, keeps learning, keeps serving the music and the people who move to it. In an industry often dominated by ego and image, his humility isn't a marketing strategy—it's simply who he is.

And perhaps that's his greatest strength: in staying true to himself and to the work, without pretension or shortcuts, Aravind has built something authentic that no amount of hype could manufacture. The beats may be international, but the journey remains beautifully, honestly human.