Our Collection

This little light of mine

My mind has little boxes, little memory boxes.

Of these, there’s one special memory box that is tucked away wrapped in fairy lights, filled with my favourite people, sweets, laughter and warmth.

It’s one of the oldest yet one of the brightest memory boxes in my mind.

It’s the one that holds a lot of light.

Light that reminds me of the light within my heart.

For it’s the box that holds memories from all the festivals I’ve celebrated and known all of my life. And even though it’s little, it somehow has space to get brighter every year I celebrate, no matter what.

Light that reminds me of new beginnings and fresh starts.

Light that reminds me to love, share and care from the heart.

Light that reminds me the warmth of hugs, the taste of good food and the joy of receiving and giving gifts.

I know it’s a lot of little small things that make up this little box but it’s these little small things that make up the little big things in my life.

And for that I will always remember to carry with me this little light of mine.

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'the earth laughs in flowers'

A collection dedicated to a dear friend Hari and to raising our little ones like wildflowers.

What about festivals and celebrations would I want to pass on to my children?

All the joys of bonding over shared food and laughter and being merry!

All the powers of believing in hope, magic, beauty, resilience. And FLOWERS!!

My love affair with flowers probably began when I was a little girl. Flowers have brought immense joy to me in ways I didn’t understand when I was younger.

Over the years, I’ve found a way to listen to them. To understand the power of creating and letting go, the strength in blooming, the magic of art, of joy, of embracing rain, sunshine and wind. Of a free spirit, of beauty, of hope and of resilience!

And aren’t those the things we try to give to our children through festivals and rituals? I hope that this festive season, everytime you pick a flower to adorn your home, you take a moment to have reverence for what the earth shares with us. I hope that you let your little ones be part of the small rituals like setting up torans at the entrance of the house and that you tell them that what we learn from festivals is the power of a shared laughter. I hope you put gajras in your hair and talk to them about spreading one’s fragrance even when crushed. I hope you tell them to wear grace in their hearts and flowers in their hair, to truly be children of the earth - wild and free. Because love laughs in children just like the earth laughs in flowers.

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'all the things you are'

Dear child,

Here is sharing a little something with you. Of all the colours I love, I love white the most. Somedays I like yellow more. And on others I like grey. But white… white reminds me of my father. Of his white kurta pyjama and his words!

‘A little bit of green.. A little bit of red.. A little bit of blue..

You are all that and more.’

Is what my father told us as we grew.

I didn’t quite understand it when I was little

Because he always said ‘make the world a better place to live in’

Maybe he forgot to mention or maybe he did not want to put attention

To the fact that we could choose to be a woman or a man or whatever we pleased

As long as we made the world a better place to live in.

‘A little bit of green.. A little bit of red.. A little bit of blue..

You are all that and more.’

Is what my father told us as we grew.

I didn’t quite understand it when I was little

Because he always said ‘make the world a better place to live in’

Maybe he forgot to mention or maybe he did not want to put attention

To the fact that we could choose to study computers, child psychology, management or dance

As long as we made the world a better place to live in.

‘A little bit of green.. A little bit of red.. A little bit of blue..

You are all that and more.’

Is what my father told us as we grew.

But today I get it. I really really do!

We all contain all wavelengths of visible light

Of possibilities, potentials and kindness too

It’s just that we don’t have to hold on too tight

To ideas, expectations and each other

We are all the things we are

And you little child, are all the things you are.

Things that make us all the same colour of light

And things that could make the world a better place to live in.

I really love white!! Oh yes I do!

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'how long does the scent of lavender last'

I once received a package

From far far away.

A package of tiny jars holding fresh lavender flowers!

I remember I was 31 then.

And it was the first time in my life I saw,

held and smelled real lavender flowers.

I can try to explain

But I know words will fail

For these lavender flowers

Remind me of furusato

The home that one longs for

A place to be, maybe by the sea?

One whiff and they take me to the countryside

Where there’s a life close to nature,

A life that is slow and patient

A life that is aware and breathing

We eat, we breathe, we walk

We nap. A lot!

We work, we work for the joy of it.

A life that has time for the fragrances the world has to offer!

I remember thinking to myself if I keep the jar open for too long,

the fragrance of the flowers will escape and die.

And what a silly thought to have!

For even today, though the flowers are dry and have lost their colour.

All it takes is one whiff and you know

That dreams are what make your reason for being.

So if you ask me how long does the scent of lavender last?

As long as you dream that little dream of ....

collection.eight

'fade away'

Of all the things I see, listen to, touch, taste and feel, I wonder how these things decide to stay - sometimes whole, sometimes a little faded. Do they have a leader who tells them how to? Or do they just know like an ensemble where to step in and step out and form a little shape to fit in exactly?

How do they know how much to stay and how much to fade away? What to keep and what to let go?

Do they have the ability to know that when I grow up it’ll be important for me to remember about that day when my nana (grandfather) and I went for a drive to the vegetable market to buy the yummiest mushrooms and bhee (lotus stems)?

Who tells them that when I grow up, I’ll smile remembering how my father took my sister and me to the park and taught us how to stand on the swing and swing without fear, but with the joy of feeling the breeze on our faces as we catch speed and hear the wind whistling in our ears?

How do these things figure, that as I grow up, the picture may be hazy and faded, but I can still close my eyes and hear my mother sing to me at sleep time? That I can still feel the winter sun on my skin from the time I was 4 and my mother would make me sit in the balcony on winter mornings with a bowl of coconut oil to put on my dry skin.

I wonder how they know, how much to stay and how much to fade away.

The more I try to hold on, the faster they fade away. But when I let them decide, they just know how much to stay and how much to fade away, leaving behind all the beautiful bits either in the physical world or in abstract traces.

collection.seven

'once upon a cotton cloud'

happy little puffy cloud
is all i want to be
a happy little puffy cloud
to float away as far as eyes can see

to be atop a puffy cloud
how joyful it would be
little peaks, and tiny jumps
with blue all around me

the sun, the moon and the stars
they'd all play with me
if only a happy little puffy cloud
is what I could be

collection.six

'that sounds like summer to me'

Sunsets and palm trees

Pineapples and popsicles

That sounds like summer to me.

Grandparent visits and slumbers with cousins

That sounds like summer to me.

Icecreams and pool time

Holidays and mangoes

That sounds like summer to me.

Beaches and coconuts

Afternoon siestas and extended playtime

That sounds like summer to me.

If there's a way to pause time,

I'd never want to let go of the sand in my toes

Light hair, summer skin, warm water and lots of fun!

My heart is happiest in the summer sun!

collection.five

'adventures of little zizi'

Little Zizi likes to draw on the floor
Little Zizi likes to draw on the wall

Little Zizi likes to draw where she's been told not to draw at all

Little Zizi likes to draw dots
Dots that turn into lines
Lines that turn into squares
And, squares that turn into dots

She drew many many lines that she said were blue grass
A big square that was the white sun
She once even made a drawing of a golden retriever that wasn't gold
A happy picture which, she thought would cure her mom's cold

She once went for a walk in the broccoli forest
And made friends with a yellow unicorn
Did she tell you about the blue eared rabbit?
Or the Polar bear about town?

I wonder where next will little Zizi go
Maybe I ll wait till she draws some more

collection.four

'a bucketful of love'

Be gentle. Be soft. Be kind. Be love. Yes, be love. Love that is grateful, boundless, and giving.

We start our days with a grateful heart, and a bucketful of love. For the chubby fingers and tiny toes, pouty yawns and curious stares. For showing us how to love selflessly, how to care unabashedly, and how to nurture wholeheartedly. The new-borns are precious. And pure.

Just as we intend our jhablas for your babies to be. You can take heart knowing that the cotton used to make them is organic, which means you’ve helped make the earth happy, and of course the farmers growing the cotton too! Imagine knowing that the dyes used to colour the fabrics are Azo-free dyes, which make our super soft jhablas safe for your little one’s sensitive undeveloped derma. And the hands that stitch the clothes are paid fair wages, have hygienic and safe working conditions.

Yes, your little one makes us want to be a little gentler, a lot kinder, towards each other. And be hopeful for a beautiful future, for them. Let’s refill that bucket with boundless love.

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'dear japan'

Dear Japan,

They said, "To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart." Oh, go somewhere, it did. Stealing glimpses beyond the slatted screens, diving into bowls full of ramen, it even did a happy dance under the beautiful cherry blossom trees. It wore a kimono, tied pigtails into a bun, it walked the dainty walk, thought it was all fun.

That was then. And this is now.

The waiting.

The meantime.

The in-between.

It has been a quiet passage of time; sometimes of a gentle sadness of things, and of times when deep silences found their wings. Nothing was too small, or too less, each life had a soul.

You taught me how to live in the now, that beauty and music can be found in the smallest, everyday action. I found in you, my peace; a reason for my heart to sing.

Dear Japan, my whole heart will be yours forever; this is a beautiful start of a lifelong love letter.

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'the winter sun'

The coldest days brought out the brightest smiles and the warmest hugs. Where wintry mornings were made of cupped cheeks and huddled heads.

And, Sundays were meant for chasing sun beams.

Oh, the jostling and nudging with the sibling finally leading to sharing that spot in the sun.

We would sit there for hours, making new friends with the shadows that formed. Weaving stories, fantasies, and day dreams. Of ships, air planes, trotting deer, elves and fairies.

The winter sun was made of little things like this, that and so many. Oh, the memories.

collection.one

'once upon a cotton cloud'