- I'm obsessed with sharing the things I like with other people - Mario Testino.
- My blog is where I document my life; the places I visit; and the artists and things that I love.
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Sunless days, making me wonder what I actually like about Bombay. Maybe these pockets of delight. Mostly Colaba, but some Bandra and elsewhere.
Le Mill is an expansive, expensive concept store in the middle of nowhere. But it’s beautiful and thoughtfully accessorised (I love the crows, the pencils, the candles and the lighting), has very sleek branding and is worth one visit.
Bungalow 8 is in one of the most gorgeous buildings in the city and is a beautifully curated interiors and fashion store. I love the menswear and vintage on the third floor and the deliberate holes in the wall on the furnishings floor.
I live a minute away from Ranwar Village and I found this beautiful watercolour of it and had to share. On Saturday, I’m going on a heritage walk of the nearby neighbourhood as well as Chimbai and Shirley Rajan with the very people documenting the villages and looking for solutions to retain their heritage and historical charm. I’m probably a huge geek for prepping for the heritage walk by reading their blog but I can’t wait. It’s organised by the kind, treehugging folk at Mocha as part of their upcoming Ecofest so go register if you want to come.
Is a magical place. We could have spent a week in the quaint spiritual town but unfortunately, we had one night. I think I may have been the happiest I have ever been in Omkareshwar. We walked through the market, peddlers selling religious paintings and kitschy idols, malas and garlands, jewellery and toys; and found a place to stay for a few hundred rupees on the advice of a holy man. We crossed the footbridge and headed towards the giant Om climbing a million stairs up to the top of the island, dotted with shrines and temples. I felt a deep, consuming sadness in the Shiva temple, the effigy over it so tremendous that you can see it from the other hill. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t prayed in months but I broke down on the temple floor and it felt greatly cathartic. We drank chai at the tea stall nearby and a baba reminded us that the only temple that really mattered was ‘apna shareer’, the temple that is one’s own body. We dipped our feet in the sacred Narmada river, though many swim. We smoked chillums with a baba who told us all about this temple town that he loved. We bought tiny brass bells to make music and rings to wear on our fingers. We ate dinner and breakfast in the lovely garden cafe. We spent the night under the stars and felt good and whole and complete. And we left the next day, our hearts lighter and heavier at the same time.
My friend Shivraj, who is generally just rad and brilliant, has been making things with his hands. His postman wallet is a genius invention and I use the shit out of mine. It’s a wallet for artists and spiffy people, pocket sized and super nifty.
It’s actually comical when myself and all our friends reach for our wallets these days because they’re all versions of the postman. I was kind of obsessed with mine for a while, and took a bunch of photos for him and one day we ordered pizza and scanned a whole bunch of stuff together. He’s got a bunch of versions like the telegram and airmail too with denim or leather and even a vegan version (no leather trim) but for now, find the waxed canvas seamail and inland in his webshop or barter with him!