Trying to get into Antigravity? Good luck

If you live in Mumbai or even just exist on its algorithm, it’s likely that you’ve heard of Antigravity, the fitness club founded by brothers Yudi and Karan Jaising in 2018. The origin story is rather simple. Both former national-level swimmers, the brothers had always been interested in fitness, discipline, and training. “I was about 23, Karan was 21, and we just didn’t know what to do in life next,” recalls Yudi. A lot of people in their circle would ask them about their own routines and for fitness tips. “So, our parents were like, why don’t you take this 650-sqft space and start a gym where you train people? Or if you don’t want to train people, just keep it as your personal gym.” They chose the former.

Earlier, when Yudi was in the MSc Sport Business and Innovation programme at Loughborough, he and Karan trained at a stripped-back, garage-style calisthenics gym in London—a small room with minimal equipment and a single trainer. The experience stayed with them. “I kid you not—that was the best workout I ever had, probably the best one I will do in my entire life. Obviously, equipment is important, but if you have that and you don’t have a good training philosophy, it’s going nowhere,” Yudi adds. That intensity, focus, and ethos became the blueprint for their no-frills club, Antigravity.

Around the same time, gyms like Kirk Myers’s Dogpound were turning fitness into a celebrity spectacle—jacked Hollywood celebrities, Victoria’s Secret angels, and the biggest influencers, all training under one industrial roof. “Dogpound was definitely one of our inspirations in terms of the vibe. They created that exclusivity culture, which we tried to replicate, so it was a big influence,” Yudi admits. However, Antigravity doubled down on the grit.

The gym itself isn’t your average Insta-friendly luxury space with beige walls and warm ambient lighting. The facade is a simple glass sliding door that opens with a fingerprint lock. On the deck outside, there are black-and-white Antigravity flutter flags, wooden benches, and dip bars. Once inside, you’re greeted by a grey brick wall lined with resistance bands, belts, all-black racks of dumbbells and kettlebells. The layout feels like a dungeon, with small passageways leading into deeper rooms that feel like training bunkers. “It’s a very motivating environment,” says Yudi. “When you go to ultra-luxurious gyms in 7-star hotels, it’s a very mellow vibe. Here is the exact opposite.”

The space is divided into three rooms: A1, the original 650-sqft area equipped with a pull-up bar, hip thrust machine, and squat rack that functions like the PR room where everyone gathers to cheer a member attempting their biggest lift yet; A2, dedicated to strength training; and A3, where cardio, functional training, strength and conditioning, and boxing take place. Coffee cups from Blue Tokai and Boojee along with paper-carton Impact Waters and Zyns are common sightings, while spotting a shirtless Bandra boy is inevitable.

“I think within the first three to four months of Antigravity itself, people realised that this is not just a gym you’re going to for the sake of it. It’s for people who are genuinely serious about their fitness,” says Karan.

Today, Antigravity is frequented by Bollywood clients, influencers, and entrepreneurs. On any given day, you might spot Janhvi Kapoor at the squat rack, Khushi Kapoor holding her plank balancing half her body over a Swiss ball, Ananya Panday doing pull-ups, or Anita Raj—well into her 60s and with arms that could beat a bunch of bad guys up—walking with kettlebells in A3. But the effect is surprisingly muted. No one stares or even looks a second longer than they should, as if the culture isn’t built around who you are outside but how hard you’re willing to train inside.

The founders insist the presence of their celebrity clientele is purely accidental and a byproduct of their training ethos. “It’s not something that we’ve built or curated for,” admits Karan. “If I had three times the number of celebrities that are coming now, but my training quality deteriorates, I think our customers are pretty smart now. They can differentiate between a good workout and a bad workout,” he adds. What keeps people coming back, he maintains, is the quality of the workout.

That includes a wide range of non-famous clients too. Community is a big focus for the club, even within its strictly personal training format. Members may be working toward their individual goals, but there’s a shared sense of purpose that makes the environment feel cohesive.

For many, Antigravity becomes more than a workout and a scheduling priority. Members often plan their days around sessions. “I think people realise that this is not like another commercial gym: I will have to dial up the intensity and dedication a bit more,” explains Karan. “Some people might call it borderline obsessive, but I think it’s phenomenal. Across the board, most of our members who have invested in a year-long membership have busy lives and other priorities, but fitness has become one of them, and they’re reaping the rewards of that.”

There are teenagers who come in fuelled by a breakup, channelling that energy into visible goals like abs. “It’s great for their confidence,” says Yudi. “Absolutely,” Karan chimes in. “Physical strength transfers to mental strength.” Others are looking to feel better in their own skin. And it’s not just a room full of hot, disciplined 20-somethings. The age range stretches far wider than expected—the oldest members are in their mid-70s. “Somehow it all works. Everyone gets along,” shares Karan.

Then there are the AG Games, the club’s annual competition which is preceded by an auction. For the weeks leading up to it, training intensifies and WhatsApp groups turn highly competitive. “In the two months people are training for it, their lives are just AG Games. We see people literally compromising on their work life and personal routines just so that they can practise,” says Karan. “It can be intense,” adds Yudi. “If you’re not performing, no one’s sugarcoating it—the captains will tell you to step up or step out.” This year, the AG Games is a padel tournament.

Antigravity currently operates four gyms in Mumbai, with plans to grow steadily into other cities, like Delhi and Bengaluru, over the next couple of years. A new flagship in Bandra, expected to be much larger than their current space, will include a cafe and recovery centre, including steam, sauna, cold plunge, and other amenities, transforming it into a third space beyond just a gym.

Locations outside India are on the map too. “We have a lot of friends and family in cities like Singapore, Dubai, and London. They have great commercial gyms over there. Even some of our brands that you and I look up to. But I think that smaller, exclusive space is something that people also like, which is missing,” says Karan.

All of Antigravity’s branches run on fixed slots. You can’t just waltz in anytime—you have to commit. While most members stick to timings, there are some that hang back for hours straight to socialise after their workout. “I’m just worried that when we open up our flagship in Bandra soon, which is going to be three or four times the size, those four hours will become eight or nine hours,” Yudi laughs.

All the hard work has paid off. All Antigravity branches currently have a waiting list. The scarcity, though, they admit, is just a function of space. “We don’t want to say no to a customer,” says Yudi. “But we’re bound by physical space.” The Bandra outpost alone has over 50 people waiting at any given time. “I always make this joke with people: if you have the 6 and 7:30 pm slots, you’re the luckiest. It’s like a Rolex wait list,” he adds.

The challenge will be scaling without losing what made the brand work in the first place. Unlike global luxury chains like Equinox—where even a change in bathroom products can cause minor outrage among members—Antigravity has so far prioritised training over indulgence. When I bring up the now-infamous Equinox toiletries debacle—when members were up in arms over a switch from Kiehl’s—Yudi laughs. “We’re a bootstrapped business and we have to maximise revenue per square foot,” he says, pointing out that investing in quality trainers comes before spa-like locker rooms. “But we’re now transitioning to having a blend of this great service and a very luxurious product. And then put your Aesop and all, hopefully, in the bathrooms.”

The shift is coming. As Antigravity grows to more cities, so will the experience around it. For now, though, the waiting list remains and Antigravity is one you still have to wait for and, once you’re in, work to keep.