The shrines at every street turning. The fifty square feet kolams. It looks beautiful. The yelai sappaadu and the million varieties of everything. The nongu and manga inji. It tastes exotic. The aroma of freshly ground coffee. The incense and malligai. It smells heavenly. The taalams of the kutcheri audience. The rustling of the Palm… Continue reading Homecoming
Sometimes we fail to see things that are right in front of us. And it took me four days of looking around and racking my head, to see the obvious. Be it the drafting paper or the guides of a digital tool, the grid is an important part of a designer's work. After I finished… Continue reading Design Grid
A photo story... Waking up to the smell of fresh filter kaapi The sight of beautiful flowers on my way to work Getting hands-on experience at work Attending productive meetings, seminars and conferences Coming home to see a dream come to life And to end a day on a sweet note, a cake -- or… Continue reading WPC: Today Was a Good Day
A couple of weeks back, I ordered a bag from the online store Chumbak* The bag was of very good quality, no doubt, but what I liked more were the little bits of detail in the product package -- the bright pink tags on the bag; the caption that said 'Designed with love in India';… Continue reading Marketing with Love
As I prepare to step outside, I keep my phone camera handy. Click! I turn around and tell my mother how I interpret her drawing. In the 30 seconds it takes to get down the staircase, we have had a full conversation of the different ways in which we perceive the world around us. Amma's… Continue reading Daily inspiration at the doorstep
While I was in Chennai last year, I received a message from a friend of mine: 'So are you coming tomorrow?' 'I'm in Chennai right now', I replied. 'Ooh Margazhi. Have fun!' I didn't understand what she meant by that. I had visited Chennai during the winter months a few times in the past, but apart… Continue reading The magic of Margazhi
Devotees who were closer to the sanctum sanctorum, bent over the railings; those who were behind, stood on their toes; children sat on shoulders of their fathers, all of them waiting to get a glimpse of Nataraja, the lord of dance. As the curtain was pulled apart, temple bells and folded palms filled the shrine.
As the sun prepares to visit this part of the world, a few of its rays have jumped ahead, trying to take a peak at our front entrance. While most of the city is either asleep, or busy getting ready to take on the day's work, my mother opens the door and thoroughly cleans the… Continue reading Patterns On The Floor