Our story
The people who grant your wishes are your celestials.
We exist to make it easy for people to show up for each other, consistently and meaningfully, without the guessing, the awkwardness or the invisible effort that gifting carries today.
The name honours the giver.
In almost every culture there are celestial beings who grant wishes, bless, protect and bring joy. We named the brand after them, but not to describe ourselves. We named it after the people who give.
The receiver has wishes. The people who love them are their celestials. MyCelestials, or MyCel to our friends, is the quiet space where those wishes can be seen and granted, without anyone having to ask.
It honours the giver.
Most gifting brands celebrate the product or the occasion. We celebrate the person who cared enough to give.
It's Indian and universal at once.
Blessing and celebration here, angel or guardian elsewhere. It travels without translation.
The founder
The gift was never the hard part. Knowing was.
Sayali Saswadkar spent a decade designing customer relationship systems for companies across India, the US, Europe and Asia, on Salesforce, HubSpot and Zoho. Seven of those years she lived in Germany. Her work kept returning to one question: how do you help someone remember what matters to the people they care about, and act on it at the right moment?
Living away from home made that question personal. She felt the anxiety of choosing the right gift under social pressure, the guilt of missing moments across time zones, and the unpaid coordination that falls on women in Indian families.
India is rich in culture. We never show up empty-handed, whether it's a festival, a wedding, a housewarming or a simple visit. But knowing exactly what someone needs or wants is hard. Traditional registries and wishlist apps were built for places where asking is normal. Here, asking for a gift, or even saying what you need, feels impolite, and a public list can feel like a demand. So we had to build something that fits how India gifts: private, quiet, and still a surprise.
Before building anything, we spent two and a half years studying how India actually gifts: festivals, weddings, families, offices, people living abroad, and 98 companies across the world. India's gifting is crowded with sellers. Nobody had built the part that tells you what to give: the thing the other person actually needs or wants. The part that stops duplicates, keeps the surprise and remembers the relationship.
Why it keeps happening
It isn't missing love. It's missing a way to know.
Gifting here isn't hard because people don't care. There's just no gentle way to know what someone would love, and no memory of what was given.
You can't ask.
"Just give whatever you like, no need."
With us: your wishes start as your own list. Sharing is a soft signal, never a demand.
The surprise is the love.
"If I tell her what to buy, it's not a gift anymore."
With us: you never see what has been claimed for you.
One gift, ten givers.
One person chasing everyone, two who never pay.
With us: everyone sees what's taken, so nobody doubles up.
Hierarchy matters.
An elder, a boss, a new in-law. Unwritten rules everywhere.
With us: they chose it, so you can't get it wrong.
One person carries it all.
She keeps track of every date and every gift, alone.
With us: one shared place, not one tired memory.
Nothing is remembered.
"Did they give us something at our wedding?"
With us: every gift becomes a memory you both keep.
And when it's your turn
What you'd love is saved in a dozen places. None of them are where your people look.
A cart on Amazon. A collection on Instagram. Screenshots in your gallery. A link you sent yourself on WhatsApp. Even you lose track of it.
And the people who love you don't know the small things that make a gift right: your size, the colour you'd actually wear, the brand you already use, the one you've been waiting to go on sale.
People want to be known, not to have to ask.
So this is what usually happens
The safe gift arrives.
Another perfume, another showpiece, another dinner set. You smile, say thank you, and it goes into the cupboard.
The exchange you never make.
Wrong size, wrong colour. Returning it feels ungrateful, so you keep it and never use it, or pass it on to someone else.
You buy it yourself anyway.
A week later, the thing you really wanted is still in your cart. You buy it, often at full price because you missed the sale. The exact thing you needed, that you could have received as a gift and saved your money.
What we are, and aren't
Not a registry. Not a wishlist app. Not a gift shop.
We sit above shopping, not inside it. Every store is our shelf. We hold no stock and sell nothing. We bring together the people around a gift: what's wanted, who's giving what, when it matters and what it meant.
| We are not | Why people might think so | What makes us different |
|---|---|---|
| A registry | Lists of things for an occasion | Registries are for one event, public and formal, and they end. We're private, for every moment, and we remember. |
| A wishlist app | You save things you want | A wishlist holds items. We bring people together: several givers, one surprise, no duplicates, and a memory afterwards. |
| A gift shop | Gifts get bought | We sell nothing. People buy from the store they already trust. |
| A price tracker | We tell you when prices drop (coming soon) | Price alerts are a reason to save things for yourself. The real value appears when someone who loves you sees them. |
| A social network | You connect with friends | Nothing is public. You choose who sees each list. |
What we stand for
Six things we won't compromise on.
Feelings first.
We design for how a moment feels, then build what makes that feeling possible.
Privacy is the product.
Nothing is public by default. Surprise and consent are built in, not bolted on.
Made for how India gifts.
Asking norms, surprise, hierarchy, festivals and family, across regions and generations.
Intentional, not wasteful.
Every gift should be wanted. Fewer duplicates, fewer returns, less clutter.
Inclusive by design.
From Gen Z to grandparents, metros to small towns.
Trust, earned honestly.
We say what's live and what's coming, and how we make money.
Why now
The problem is centuries old. The way to solve it is new.
We also estimate 3 to 7 hours a month of invisible gifting coordination, mostly carried by women. Figures marked "our estimate" come from our own research and are labelled as such.
Where we're going
We're starting with gifts because that's where the guessing hurts most. Over time, MyCelestials becomes the place that helps you remember what matters to the people you love, and act on it, whatever the moment.
X-ionic Tech Solutions Pvt. Ltd. · DPIIT-recognised startup (May 2026) · Pune, India