From Fars Province to the Raymond Runway · Amos

In Amos's words

There was a time in my life when alcohol and cigarettes were a fixed part of my days.

Not because I loved them. It was escape. Escape from feeling lost, from not having a direction, from the feeling that every day was a repeat and nothing was ever going to change.

At some point I got tired. Tired of having less energy. Tired of my face looking more drained, my body weaker, my mind in chaos.

That's when my path changed. A spark. A film. And a YouTube channel with more than 500 tutorial videos on modeling. The Amin Ghesmati channel was not just educational for me. It was the first time I had connected so deeply to a teacher, and I absorbed every piece of content with my whole heart.

I built a routine. The gym became part of my identity. I learned how to eat, how to build my body, how to look after my skin, how to live a strict but flexible lifestyle. I wasn't chasing perfection. I was chasing being better.

Then I went into military service. A lot of people think everything falls apart in there. For me, it was the place I understood how much I truly wanted this. For one year and eight months I held my diet, my training, and my skincare. I worked in a print shop full of chemicals that were terrible for skin. I held the routine anyway. I didn't have money for chicken or whey protein. I had too much hope and a love for modeling. I got the protein my body needed through the calculations Amin had taught on his channel. I trained twice a day. I studied modeling and lifestyle content for two hours a day.

When service ended, my body was ready and my face was good, but I had no professional photos. I knew enough not to spend money on expensive studios. I sent simple polaroids instead.

The first time, no reply. The second time, no reply.

After a month, Amin messaged me on WhatsApp. He said I had a good body for modeling, but I needed to work on myself. That was it. The first peak was climbed.

For three months I sent photos every two weeks. I tightened my diet until the skin on my stomach was stuck to my muscles. The six-pack was visible in any pose, no tensing required.

I sent the photos one more time. The meeting was set for 14 Azar.

On the day, I ran the whole route from the metro to his place, drinking a Pak-e-Kaleh and almost shouting with joy. I met Amin. Respectful and kind, the kind of person you couldn't help but trust. He took photos and said, "let's try it." That wasn't the answer I had hoped for, but I would take it.

The visa process took two months. From my city in Fars province, the bus ride to Tehran was twenty-four hours. I arrived on a cold Tehran morning. The tea in the qahvekhune was warm.

I took the afternoon flight. It was the first plane I had ever been on, indirect via Oman. The first time I had ever left Iran.

Then I flew to India. When I came out of the airport, the city was busy, dark, and not clean. But it had power. And a future, as I saw it.

From the agency

Amos found AG Models the way the agency is built to be found: not through a casting agent or a manager-in-the-middle, but through the founder's YouTube channel, which carries more than 500 modeling tutorials in Farsi. He started training from those videos in Iran, kept the routine through one year and eight months of military service, and submitted polaroids to AG twice before the agency reached out. He was signed in 2025 and arrived in Mumbai from Fars province via Tehran and Oman.

The work moved quickly. Amos walked the Raymond menswear runway in tailored charcoal suiting. He shot the Macho Genie men's innerwear campaign. He has run lifestyle editorial work for menswear and leather goods. The bookings build on what he arrived in with: a clean physique he engineered himself, on a budget, before a single rupee had been spent on him.

Amos is the kind of model AG Models is built to develop. Scouted from a Farsi-language audience the Indian advertising market would not otherwise see. Trained against his own discipline. Placed on the work that matters.