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Presenting AD’s May-June 2026 cover: Taera Chowna’s secret garden.

For over three decades, #AD100 landscape designer Taera Chowna has been creating some of the most sophisticated green spaces across Indian homes. Those who have sought a moment of respite from the harsh urban sprawl of Mumbai’s Lower Parel at the orangery at Nilaya Anthology, or walked amidst the dense greenery at the Aranyani Pavilion at Delhi’s Sunder Nursery earlier this year, can get a glimpse of her mastery.

We visit her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. Nurtured tenderly over twenty years, is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants.

The May–June issue is on stands today.

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

Taera Chowna crafts her gardens as if they were always there in nature. Many great schools of gardening in the past may have emphasised order and ornamentation, but Chowna delights most in creating dynamic, densely planted landscapes that follow the natural contours of the land. In the best case scenario, the leafy blooms from her plantings will wipe off any traces of her interventions with time, and an untrained eye walking amidst her landscapes won’t know that Chowna was there, meticulously planting it all.

Parallel to most of her career, for over 20 years, she has been gently tending to her own magical garden in the seafront wilderness of Kashid, Maharashtra. It is her ever-evolving testing ground, where she adapts and understands plants before bringing them to her clients’ sites along with Kerman Madon (@kermanm_), her daughter and the other half of landscaping firm Design Consultants. When Chowna and her husband, Jehangir, first came across this land—a low-lying paddy field by the sea, with a working well (Jehangir was particular about the availability of water)—it was a hurrah moment. Yet, the landscape designer, who usually is able to figure out exactly what needs to be done to transform a piece of land into a garden, just didn’t know what to do here. Perhaps because it came at the tail end of a long search, or because it was their own, and with no brief or restriction, all possibilities were open. It was their dear friend and #AD100 hall of famer, architect Nozer Wadia, who drove straight up to the property, got them to climb and stand atop his car and said, “This is the view you will get if you fill up the land.” So they filled up the field, contoured it and awaited Wadia’s architecture.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

For the house, Wadia as well as the Chownas were clear that they wanted to employ repurposed material wherever possible, and sourced wood and Carrara marble from a nearby home that was being demolished. A series of cast-iron trusses that were once part of a market in Thane became a muse of sorts for the architect, who found a way to incorporate them in bits and pieces across the home. With time, the Chownas’ country home came together, and then the garden took root.

“For us, it was important to live most of our day outside. We need to walk out barefoot from the house to anywhere we wish in the gardens,” says Chowna, pointing out that there are no steps, and the house and the outdoors are on the same level. In the early years, she was focused on putting the bones in place—large trees (plumerias, Cassia javanica, Lignum vitae, blue jasmine and scented kaminis) that she would watch grow in the coming decades as well as natural boundaries of cacti that counter the corrosive effect of the sea. In the following years, the gardens evolved, mirroring her tastes—a lot of plumeria, big-leaved philodendrons when she took to Balinese landscapes, areas sheltered by hedges when she sought elements from European ones.

Read the cover story at the link in bio

Head of Editorial: Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok)
Photographer: Neville Sukhia (@nevillesukhia)
Writer: Sridevi Nambiar (@sdnambiar)
Contributing Art Director: Ashish Sahi (@ashishsahi)
Visuals Editor: Harshita Nayyar (@harshitanayyar_)
Interior Styling: Almas Jani (@almas.jani)

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

“What makes them personal is something quieter: the act of tending. They demand time and attention, without quite knowing what they would yield. And eventually, they settle into their own rhythm of care, developing alongside us slowly and holding within them a sense of what might come,” says Mrinalini Ghadiok (@ghadiok), Head of Editorial Content, Architectural Digest India.

In the May-June issue, the idea of the garden unfolds in such ways. These gardens take shape slowly and often deliberately. Some are cultivated with precision and others are allowed to grow freely, but each reflects a way of looking and a willingness to remain with it as it evolves. If the previous issue considered what we choose to bring into view, this one lingers on what we choose to nurture.

The pull towards joyful interiors has never felt stronger. Cheery hues, whimsical details, and more: these colourful kitchens might be the happiest rooms you’ll see today.

Get inspired at the link in bio

Image 1: @giggling_monkey | 📷: @harshitanayyar_
Image 2: @m.a.jaipur | 📷: @francoishalard
Image 3: @ashish | 📷: @simonpwatson
Image 4: @sianarchitects | 📷: @ankush_maria
Image 5: @zyvastudio | 📷: @yohann_fontaine
Image 6: @design_hex | 📷: @thekuber

The pull towards joyful interiors has never felt stronger. Cheery hues, whimsical details, and more: these colourful kitchens might be the happiest rooms you’ll see today.

Get inspired at the link in bio

Image 1: @giggling_monkey | 📷: @harshitanayyar_
Image 2: @m.a.jaipur | 📷: @francoishalard
Image 3: @ashish | 📷: @simonpwatson
Image 4: @sianarchitects | 📷: @ankush_maria
Image 5: @zyvastudio | 📷: @yohann_fontaine
Image 6: @design_hex | 📷: @thekuber

The pull towards joyful interiors has never felt stronger. Cheery hues, whimsical details, and more: these colourful kitchens might be the happiest rooms you’ll see today.

Get inspired at the link in bio

Image 1: @giggling_monkey | 📷: @harshitanayyar_
Image 2: @m.a.jaipur | 📷: @francoishalard
Image 3: @ashish | 📷: @simonpwatson
Image 4: @sianarchitects | 📷: @ankush_maria
Image 5: @zyvastudio | 📷: @yohann_fontaine
Image 6: @design_hex | 📷: @thekuber

The pull towards joyful interiors has never felt stronger. Cheery hues, whimsical details, and more: these colourful kitchens might be the happiest rooms you’ll see today.

Get inspired at the link in bio

Image 1: @giggling_monkey | 📷: @harshitanayyar_
Image 2: @m.a.jaipur | 📷: @francoishalard
Image 3: @ashish | 📷: @simonpwatson
Image 4: @sianarchitects | 📷: @ankush_maria
Image 5: @zyvastudio | 📷: @yohann_fontaine
Image 6: @design_hex | 📷: @thekuber

The pull towards joyful interiors has never felt stronger. Cheery hues, whimsical details, and more: these colourful kitchens might be the happiest rooms you’ll see today.

Get inspired at the link in bio

Image 1: @giggling_monkey | 📷: @harshitanayyar_
Image 2: @m.a.jaipur | 📷: @francoishalard
Image 3: @ashish | 📷: @simonpwatson
Image 4: @sianarchitects | 📷: @ankush_maria
Image 5: @zyvastudio | 📷: @yohann_fontaine
Image 6: @design_hex | 📷: @thekuber

The pull towards joyful interiors has never felt stronger. Cheery hues, whimsical details, and more: these colourful kitchens might be the happiest rooms you’ll see today.

Get inspired at the link in bio

Image 1: @giggling_monkey | 📷: @harshitanayyar_
Image 2: @m.a.jaipur | 📷: @francoishalard
Image 3: @ashish | 📷: @simonpwatson
Image 4: @sianarchitects | 📷: @ankush_maria
Image 5: @zyvastudio | 📷: @yohann_fontaine
Image 6: @design_hex | 📷: @thekuber

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

Virat Kohli’s (@virat.kohli) holiday home in Alibag is the embodiment of biophilic luxury.

An unfiltered conversation with Virat Kohli (@virat.kohli) suddenly changes the mood of the crew [sooner than he realises] when he says, “I’m never really on holiday…there’s no plan for how to relax…just being in a state of doing nothing is enough”. It delivers a resounding reassurance that Virat too, like a lot of his fans, wants to be in the comforts of his abode after a challenging season and desires an exit from Mumbai, where he can rejuvenate and immerse in nature. And he found this home away from home, as he deems it, in Alibag.

Virat was looking for a space with a soul, with a sense of belonging and community—a home that is a testament to his own taste—so Avās (@avaswellness) in Alibag delivered. Built over a 10,000-square-foot plot by globally acclaimed architects at SAOTA (@_saota), led by Phillippe Fouché (@phillippefouche), the Californian Konkan-style four-bedroom villa celebrates “raw luxury’’.

What really stands out in the home is its integration of biophilic principles. Bathed in the glow of natural light streaming through expansive windows and glass walls, it commits to sophistication and sustainability, qualities that resonated with Virat’s idea of a holiday home. He says, “The most interesting feature is the double-height cut-out ceiling in the living space, as it welcomes natural light. The more light… the better its energy.”

Read more at the link in bio

Images 1, 3 & 8 shot by: Jogi Singh Munde (@jogi.media)
Photography: Talib Chitalwala (@talib_chitalwala)
Words: Harleen Kalsi (@harleenday)
Interior Stylist: Jasmine Jhaveri (@jasminejhaveridesignstudio)

#ViratKohli #ADVisits

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

There was a time when travel existed for this Meerut-based family only in films. Growing up in a small town, seeing the world felt impossibly distant, something reserved for other people and other lives. Years later, after building a successful business empire spanning automobile dealerships across the city, travel slowly became part of their own story. Hotel stays became immersive encounters with architecture, culture, nature, and design. They wandered through streets in Spain, Mexico, Japan, London and Bali, collecting, along with souvenirs, a new understanding of how spaces could feel. So, when the family decided to renovate their 5,400-square-foot home in Meerut, they wanted that feeling to follow them home.

For Srishti Mehta, the project arrived at an equally transformative moment in her own life. Trained as a computer science engineer, Mehta had built what many would consider an enviable career: first in consulting in Mumbai, then in corporate banking in Canada after completing an MBA at Queen’s University. While designing her own home in Toronto, Mehta found herself increasingly drawn to interiors, craftsmanship, and the emotional power of spaces. This project, commissioned by relatives who had visited a vacation home she had previously designed in Canada, would eventually become the foundation of her practice, Rhythm and Light Design Studio (@rhythm.and.light).

“I spent a lot of time understanding what beauty meant to them specifically,” relates Mehta. “They loved sitting in gardens during their travels. They wanted to feel connected to nature inside their own home too.” The transformation began by rethinking the home’s relationship with the outdoors. Traditional doors and windows were replaced with floor-to-ceiling glass sliders that open directly into landscaped pockets of greenery. Every opening was carefully positioned to frame foliage, so even when shut, the house never feels disconnected from nature.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @takeninstudios
Words: @eladas

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

It might seem straight out of a fantasy novel, but this Surrealist cob house in Kazakhstan is far from fiction; in fact, it lays down a blueprint for reimagining ancient building techniques for present day #sustainable architecture.

“When people first encounter our house, they struggle to believe it’s a residence,” says Dilyara Mazhitova (@dilyara.mazhitova). “Most assume it’s a public space – a restaurant or a retreat. People simply don’t build homes like this.” Nestled against a mountainside in the rugged Alatau region surrounding Almaty, Kazakhstan, Mazhitova’s home is indeed singular, bringing to mind the cavelike villas designed by maverick French architect Jacques Couëlle in the 1950s and 60s, or the rustic dwellings of Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

In fact, the house’s inspiration lies entirely elsewhere. Mazhitova and her husband, Vladimir Radostovets (@vladimirradostovets), designed and built it themselves, with the help of a hand-picked construction team and an interior designer. The couple were originally lawyers, but that represents only a fraction of their talents: Mazhitova has since turned entrepreneur, project manager and art dealer, while Radostovets is also a builder and inventor, notably in the field of sound engineering (of which more later). The couple has even built a factory that specialises in geosynthetic materials. Many of these creative strands proved vital when, one day, Radostovets had a radical idea: to build a cob house from scratch.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @skrasyuk
Words: Amy Bradford

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

If earthy neutrals have been feeling overdone in design lately, this Bengaluru duplex by Sabyasachi Routray and Anisha Menon of ma+rs (@maplusrs) proves that they are anything but predictable. “A key part of our design approach is to create a quiet and changeable backdrop for living, not just a static display,” begins Routray. The design thus was curated as a serene, blank canvas upon which the homeowners—a family of four humans and two cats—layered their own colourful life and personality through warm, muted tones.

But this canvas was rather unusual, for the homeowners intended to convert two separate 3BHK apartments into a sprawling, cohesive duplex. This meant a full-scale renovation with extensive spatial reorganization, beginning of course, with physically bridging the two floors. A custom-designed staircase becomes the central focus, almost akin to a work of art. The sleek, metal structure in a calming sage green brings to mind industrial efficiency, with the wooden treads adding an organic warmth. But it’s the striking stone column featuring delicate Indian carvings that elevates the insertion, for it captures the heart of the design language—to bridge a modern aesthetic with a subtle ode to Indian traditions.

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @arjunkrishna.in
Words: @alisha___lad

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

For decades now, architect Uvais Subu has been investigating the vernacular architecture of the tropics. Whether he is constructing a private residence, a resort, or a recreation facility, his first point of reference is always the topography, and how his built structure will stand within it. “We find the beauty within the land,” he shares, “That’s our core concept.” His practice, Tropical Architecture Bureau (@tropicalarchitecturebureau), is based in Calicut, Kerala, a region he says is “very rich in heritage, and traditional buildings,” founded on an architectural vernacular that emerged from its varied landscape.

Consider Re-born Living, a Kerala home he recently re-designed for a textile merchant in Perinthalmanna. The two bedroom home, which includes a formal living room, a dining area, and a family room, needed an upgrade. “The house was ten years old, and he wanted a house that should last for another 20, 25 years into the future,” explains the architect, whose first task was to get a sense of the family’s lifestyle, and how they interacted with one another through various parts of the home.

Unfortunately, the architect who had designed the original structure had provided a “cliche” layout, as Subu describes, “dining in the centre with rooms on either side,” which could start to feel cramped if too many people gathered at once. Subu broke that down and created a more interconnected floor plan, in which the dining room opened right out onto a plus landscaped garden. “It makes the house more beautiful,” he adds, “When you walk into the dining room from the foyer, you’re not expecting to see this view, it really makes the rest of the world seem far away.”

Explore the home at the link in bio

Photography: @turtlearts_photography
Words: @avantikasmankar

A residence envisioned as a tribute to timeless grandeur and classical artistry. Mathh–Sanatan Mahal unfolds through soaring volumes, intricate GRG detailing, richly carved paneling, and meticulously crafted interiors that celebrate heritage luxury at its finest. Semi-precious stone inlays, elaborate moldings, and bespoke ornamental details come together to create spaces layered with depth, refinement, and regal sophistication.

Spanning 25,000 sq. ft. in Rohtak, this mansion reflects ANCA’s commitment to craftsmanship, precision, and enduring design—where every corner feels monumental yet timeless.

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy

A new generation of Indian artists is turning to nature as a teacher. Its rhythms shape how they live and work, as they stay close to trees, flowers, birds, insects, rivers and the open sky, watching, listening and resisting the pace they’ve been handed.

@deepak_kumar3527 @imdad_barbhuyan @nibhasikander @kaanchichopra @svabhukohli @kr._v1996 @riya_panwar_

Read more at the link in bio

Photography: Courtesy of the artists
Words: @gautamireddy