There’s Something About Paño

Sanskriti Sharma shares her journey to this larger than life persona

Kanica Joshi

There’s Something About Paño

While most may know her as Paño, the masked figure with wide eyes, the journey to this larger-than-life persona began much earlier.

“I’m Sanskriti Sharma, but most people know me as Paño,” she begins. “A whimsical character who wears a big doll mask and travels through stories. I’ve always been drawn to imagination and the quiet power of ordinary people’s lives.”

A background in design and a deep love for storytelling laid the foundation. “Somewhere along the way, I realized that the world is full of tiny, beautiful moments that often go unnoticed,” she says. It’s from this understanding that Paño was born—‘out of that love—for listening, observing, and weaving imagination into the everyday reality.’

But Paño is more than performance. “She’s not just a mask, but a bridge between the real and the imaginary,” Sanskriti explains. “Through her, I get to meet strangers, step into their shoes, and retell their stories with heart. It’s part performance, part memory, part magic.”

What drew her to the mask wasn’t concealment—but revelation. “I’ve always found masks fascinating—not because they hide, but because they reveal in different ways. Wearing the mask helped me disappear, so I could fully see others.”

“She felt necessary because in a world full of noise and spectacle, she offered stillness. She felt urgent because so many voices go unheard. And she felt inevitable—because I think I’ve been carrying her quietly inside me all along,” she reflects. “I didn’t choose Paño. She chose me.”

Becoming Paño

Being in character as Paño, Sanskriti says, is unlike acting. “It feels like stepping into a quiet river. Everything slows down.” There’s a shift—not just outwardly, but inwardly too. “It’s more like remembering a version of myself that’s softer, more open, more curious.”

She describes accessing parts of herself usually kept beneath the surface: “tenderness, wonder, a kind of gentle bravery.” The experience invites deeper connection. “She helps me ask questions I wouldn’t normally dare ask, and people respond in ways that are surprisingly raw and honest.”


The instincts that emerge when she becomes Paño are specific, she says: “A deeper sense of empathy, a slower rhythm of being. It’s as if when the mask goes on, the noise fades—and all that remains is the present connection with the moment.”

The instincts that emerge when she becomes Paño are specific, she says: “A deeper sense of empathy, a slower rhythm of being. It’s as if when the mask goes on, the noise fades—and all that remains is the present connection with the moment.”

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At Home in Paño

Does being Paño feel like home? “Yes.” But not in the way most would define it. “Not in the traditional sense of a place, but in the way certain feelings make you feel safe and seen.”

In fact, Sanskriti feels most herself behind the mask. “When I wear the mask, I’m not pretending to be someone else—I’m actually returning to the most honest parts of myself.”

These parts, she says, are rooted in memory and feeling. “Paño is woven from fragments of memory—my grandmother’s stories, the rhythm of small-town streets, the scent of old story books, the hush of childhood afternoons, the memory of nani’s house. She holds all of that. And in doing so, she reminds me where I come from.”

It’s in Paño’s silences that Sanskriti finds belonging. “Through her, I don’t just tell stories—I belong to them. And that, for me, feels like home.”

What Paño Says

There are truths, Sanskriti believes, that only Paño can express. “She allows me to express a kind of quiet intensity that none of my other creative selves can.”

As Sanskriti, there’s often pressure to explain or make sense. “But Paño doesn’t need to explain—she just feels. She exists in the in-between spaces: between words, between people, between what’s said and what’s meant.”

There’s freedom in that liminality. “With her, I can be deeply vulnerable without feeling exposed. I can ask strange, tender questions. I can cry and laugh and listen without being ‘Sanskriti the artist’ or ‘Sanskriti the adult.’ I can be curious like a child again.”

In doing so, Paño gives form to what often escapes language. “She teaches me that not everything needs to be loud to matter. Sometimes, the quietest truths are the ones that move people the most.”

Paño x QUOD

“Absolutely—Paño is a QUOD girl in the most instinctive, natural way.”

She feels at home in the brand’s aesthetic and ethos. “Intentional, poetic, quietly powerful. There’s something about the brand’s language and style that doesn’t scream for attention—but lingers, like a thought you carry with you all day.”

It’s a shared sensibility. “QUOD’s spirit celebrates individuality without spectacle, softness without weakness, and that resonates deeply with her.”

“She’s drawn to textures, to slowness, to the beauty of things made with feeling—and QUOD lives in that same space. It’s not just a brand she wears—it’s one she belongs to.”

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