It is quite amusing for me to hear the saree woes especially at the weddings from friends and strangers alike. One of my closest friends needs hours to drape a saree and it is no small achievement for her. We are poles apart because given a chance I would build a walk-in wardrobe, which would showcase nothing but my sarees. I am already dreaming! There is something for every season and occasion when it comes to sarees. I haven’t had a problem in choosing one when dressing up for a happy time as much as when picking up a dress, skirt etc. By no means I am being biased or maybe a little, but it isn’t in my hands.


The touch, feel, and smell of sarees is heavenly. I love how it falls and wraps itself around the body. However, shopping for fabrics for the blouse pieces is another experience in itself, which needs to be discussed at length… later.

Th 100 saree pact is the reason behind my rambling. I was quite surprised when I first read about it because why would someone need to be bound by a pact in order to wear the most graceful thing in the world. In case you haven’t heard about this initiative then fret not because I am more than happy to share the know-how with you.

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This pact – which has gone viral – came to life when two women Ms Anju Madam Kadam and Ms Ally Matthan realised that they had way too many sarees and had hardly worn them in years. The sarees saw the Sun and Moon or breathed in the polluted air only when there was a wedding in the family. More often than not with western wear ruling the lives, saree just didn’t fit in the picture. So, in order to make use of all the sarees they decided to wear 100 sarees in 365 days. Every time one of them would wear a saree, they shared the picture online with the hashtag 100sareepact accompanied by a small story, memory, or anecdote evoked by the saree for the day. They did not want to restrict it to themselves and decided to rope in friends, family, and friends of friends too. So, as soon as the word got out, the pact became the talk of the town (literally).

Since, I have always enjoyed wearing a saree and don’t really need an occasion to wear one, this pact wasn’t that exciting for me. However, it did get me wondering about the number of sarees in my wardrobe. They aren’t anywhere close to hundred but I plan to change the status soon. The thought of achieving that number has already given way to planning and buckets full of excitement.

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The scorching heat calls for chanderi, cotton, chiffon, georgette and what not. Winter is not far and I am so looking forward to it because the beautiful weather will bring in its wake silk sarees.

There are two women I am in love with who made me fall in love with sarees. First one is my mom because I simply love her for who she is. I can’t help but swoon over her wardrobe full of sarees; it would be quite hard to pick a favourite. If ever given a chance I shall beg, borrow, and steal my mom’s wedding sarees. I feel that not even a single saree today can stand on the same pedestal with the ones woven decades ago. Since childhood I have preferred my mom in a saree not because of some archaic thought process but simply for the grace she exudes in a saree, which turns so many heads even today.

The second one is Rekha and that too the one in Silsila… it was quite hard for me to divide my attention between her and Mr Bacchhan.  I am in awe of them and will be so all my life. Oomph, class, and elegance are synonymous to her and I can talk about it all day long. The way she draped her saree in Silsila was the first time I fell in love with her and every time I watch the movie, she makes it so easy for me to fall in love with her all over again.

So, this pact is not for mere 365 days for me, but a treasure trove for a lifetime.



The other day I had my first Indiblogger meet to attend and I couldn’t decide which bag to carry with my ikkat dress from Bhane: a personal favourite in my wardrobe. After rummaging and rejecting all the options, I zeroed in on my new duffel bag courtesy Brandless .

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It might seem like a huge bag for a casual evening with a room full of strangers, but then who said that I believe in being conventional?! I definitely do not travel light even for a meeting rather a networking event. I have to have my diary to scribble riveting thoughts, carry my DSLR, wallet (because there are no free lunches), and every possible thing I can get my hands while rushing out of the home.

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Most of the time my mom feels that one day I will leave for a trip with all the essentials stuffed in the bag and she won’t even realise because no one has ever heard of me travelling with only a duffel bag in tow. It is that spacious!

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If just in case you have had enough of the fast paced life and looking to sneak out for a much needed break then it will prove to be your perfect partner in crime for an adventurous trek or a swim in the sea.

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I harbour an unbridled passion for luxury, class, and timeless beauty and I found all three wrapped in the most divine piece of leather, which has become an inherent part of me. The smell of leather is so raw and alluring while the touch can only be described as sinful. Sigh! Who do I thank for this exotic creation? They go by the name Brandless and have the most divine collection. I am hooked!

Brandless possesses the potion to indulge your senses with its gorgeous line of  travel gear, backpacks, and what not. You have to see it to believe!

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I am a sucker for everything vintage because it holds in its folds a beautiful story, which is told time and again but never loses its charm. A train journey is everything old and vintage. It will take you to your chosen destination, but the revelations during the journey have always been something of a mystery stepping out of the shadows. And no journey is complete without the travel gear you carry, at least not for me. My duffel is not just a piece of luggage to be nudged under the seat but it is the treasure trove of everything that I bring back from travelling far and wide; a lone shell from the beach, sunrise when I am barely awake, a cup of chai from a roadside vendor, but most importantly it is the constant friend who helps me weave a new dream while cherishing the old ones.


Well, speaking of train journeys which were an integral part of our childhood, I am thinking and trying to recall the last time I was this excited about choosing a backpack. Maybe never this bonkers because no one ever told me that you could actually flaunt backpacks made of leather as well as a striking mix of leather and grey tweed. Damn! In school all I had to do was choose the colour of the bag but here the matter is of great concern. How am I supposed to let go of the classy leather for the gorgeous tweed or vice versa? Such luxurious assets demand to be taken to equally beautiful destinations and only then can I pass a verdict. It can house my clothes, diary, DSLR, and a few knick knacks for something as short as a weekend trip. Or maybe I can just walk around the city and see which bag turns the maximum heads. I am game for both the ideas… what about you?

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There is something ethereal about twisting tracks and passing scenery. The memories from a journey charms you into encasing it in pictures only to reminisce over it later. I can’t help but fall in love with every frozen memory telling its own story. Just the way the beauty of a  picture is enhanced by its frame (rustic and vintage for me), similarly a camera too deserves a luxurious home. A combination of tweed and leather looked resplendent and it wrapped around my baby like a dream. Now, every journey out of home seems more meaningful for I have two of my most priced possessions giving me company.

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saree5 wm She lay quite comfortably on a raw carpet of cement and wrapped in the nine yards that was all grace but belied the haste with which it was tied. The sharp stones, sweltering heat, and a lone bulb in the spacious room mocked at the luxury she was accustomed to and pushed it in the far recess of her life; not forever but as long as she deemed fit. They were never allowed to transcend the journey of a few hours, which didn’t last even for a day. Nine yards She nurtured an indecipherable connect with the abandoned, trivial things, which usually escaped even the keenest of eyes. She was different! Her thick, beautiful curls jostled for space and revelled in the touch of her fingers as she drew them away in an absent fashion. But time and again they fell back, craving to caress her face. The thoughts underneath the captivating face charted their own course contrary to the words she read that painted a musical history. Nine yards She looked content languishing on the scattered cushions, but her eyes reflected the fragments from another lifetime that could churn a storm in the calmest of sea. But she smiled because she knew it to be the best way to be happy. A tongue and wit sharper than a razor had all around her on their toes: a fact in which she took much pride. Tranquility There was only one who could unravel the mysteries dancing in those eyes, which laughed at a lonesome joke, igniting within its depth the tinders of wisdom born from sorrows of the past. The wind blew so did her thoughts. The time flew and so did her wait. She lay there in tranquillity as the music filled the room she dimly lit.  

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