The jewellery community in India has always been the pioneer in both the domestic and the international markets, but it simply has never gotten the name, fame or respect it deserves.

All my karigars are highly skilled artisans who work at their own pace and have their own unique etiquette that I respect. From the kind of music they like listening to, to not wanting to chat when they’re doing certain things, to the ones who always seem to meditate while working, and mostly want pin-drop silence. Do I even want to change their pace? Will it still be the same if I tried to intervene?

I’d like to kickoff this edition of the Travelling Dukaan — what we’re calling the Diwali or Festive edition — by thanking my amazing team who are tireless behind the scenes — and boy, do I know it can get a bit (read: very) mad.

What is my perfect wedding then? Small, quaint, cozy, sentimental, intimate…and definitely at home. I want it far from perfection. Flowers strung together by family, food cooked in the kitchen or garden under the supervision of a good old bawarchi…

The past year, I’ve been not just creating, but serendipitously spotting all kinds of baaj , everywhere. I’ve been noticing them in the sky, in books, in mythology, in spirituality, in design and in jewellery – but funnily enough, it only registered after I made my third one and found my fourth.

I’m often asked about my favourite hotels to visit in the country. But if you ask me, I’d tweak that question to the top ten rooms in my favourite properties in India, because as much as my husband and travel partner might disagree, the room we pick is weirdly important to me.

Motherhood has taught me a lot of things and continues to, every day — to look at life simplistically, to enjoy the little things, to say what we like and want, and of course, cry when it gets too much

I wanted the karigars who’ve hardly had any business during the pandemic to know they’re valued — so here I am today, planning my trip for the Fourth edition of the Travelling Dukaan after what seemed like the longest gap since the first wave.

If you’ve read anything about me, however briefly, or have ever bumped into me, you know I’m from Bihar. I’m one of those Biharis who’s unapologetically proud and hugely emotional about my mother state…

While I sit at home and try to maneuver life via screens, I wonder where inspiration comes from? Does it mean different things to different people? I find myself thinking about what gets people moving to do what they do and be who they are.

Read my full interview with Vogue for the Style List 2021…

Visiting jewellery that lives in museums always makes me sad. I feel for those stunning pieces — travelling through time, but stuck up on pins as exhibits for eyes to watch.

I’ve been lucky to make a meal of this traditional Rajasthani delicacy many times, but I’ve never wanted to learn it as much as I did after my first bite on this one particular afternoon, lounging under a gorgeous, warm winter sun in Jaipur.

You are keeping me company without even knowing it. It feels like we’ve shared a glass of wine, some interesting stories, more than interesting feelings.

It was the spring after I began my first job, when the festival of gold, Akshaya Tritiya, came along like it does.

One of my especially memorable childhood joys was the aam panna – a quintessentially Indian cooler synonymous with summer, and expertly made by my mother from unripe green mangoes.

I find myself wondering, what is right and what is wrong at a time like this? How are we suddenly the gatekeepers of virtual righteousness? 

Now here we are again, right in the eye of the second storm, unable to so much as pass a meal down our throat without a fervent prayer for those with tubes down theirs, and no access to a hospital bed.