27. homes

and inherited decor skills

Last week, during my visit to a friend’s house, I realised that her space was meticulously planned. Everything in her house matched with everything else. Every room told a unified story. The bedspread matched the wall which matched the floor which matched the art on her walls, which the lighting accentuated. It was like walking into a realistic version of an Architectural Digest feature. There was a cohesion in the way her space presented itself, curated by her deft eye for beauty. They were not necessarily expensive but they were unique. And somehow, this highlighted the casual cosiness her space exuded.

Often after visiting my friends’ put-together homes, I wonder why our home looks like a patchwork of pretty things that don’t necessarily go together but still tell a story.

I grew up in two homes. My grandmother and mother built them respectively. They were not particularly artsy and honestly, they had too much on their mind to “curate” a look.

The first house was always clean, you wouldn’t ever find a speck of dust anywhere but it was also crowded with things my grandmother collected over the years and displayed in the showcases placed across the living rooms on both floors. I grew up surrounded by knick-knacks she and my grandfather picked up during their trips around India in the 70s and 80s, souvenirs from my parents’ travels before I was born, Bengali books that my grandmother cherished and finally, a bunch of my random toys that needed to be kept out of my reach to prevent them from destruction by yours truly.

My grandmother was an expert embroiderer. She stitched beautiful traditional designs on different types of cloth and placed them in frames in the living room upstairs. I was too young to understand the politics of our living spaces but the upstairs, in retrospect, was her playground. She decorated it carefully, with terracotta sculptures, tribal art from the villages of Bengal, picture frames bought from Sikkim and her own gorgeous handiwork. The balcony had a wooden swing, decorated with her hand-embroidered cushions where I often spent summer afternoons lost in a book. The upper floor had a coherent story – one where she proudly displayed everything she held close to her heart – her experiences, wanderlust, and artistry.

When we moved out of the home where I grew up, my mother was in charge of putting together the new house. My father had no time to decorate and being a stay-at-home mom, the onus fell seamlessly on her to make something out of this new space.

She put together a functional home where everything had a purpose – from the bookshelf in my room to the wooden foldaway study table, from the uncomfortable wicker sofa set to the cosy mattress on the floor sitting area. Nothing was merely decoration. She did not care for that. She wanted a liveable space and being a young mom of a 12-year-old was too much work for her to care about interior decoration. After I left home, she repurposed some of the spaces to function a little differently. And yet, she created others so that when I visit Kolkata now and work from there, I have spaces that still feel like the home I spent my teenage years in.

She is still very strict about keeping the house clean, about putting ‘outside’ clothes away once you get home, about always washing your feet before you sit on the bed, and about every item being returned to its original space after use. I inherited the same discipline and brought it into our home.

***

I grew up in two homes, built by two incredible women, each with their unique style – of showcasing experiences and interests or of creating functional, no-nonsense spaces. As a result, I never learnt how to decorate for aesthetics.

When you visit our home in Hamburg, you will see a combination of both – curated art (from both our artist friends and those found during our travels), functional furniture that (sort of) fit together despite having barely anything in common and hidden away junk drawers and closets with a jumble of stuff we don’t know what to do with.

Our home will probably not warrant a feature in the Architectural Digest or even an MTV Cribs Tour. But I promise, it will be cosy, you will get a cup of cardamom-spiced chai and feel right at home when you make yourself comfortable on our IKEA couch.

Until next time collecting more knick-knacks and art,

Sanj 🫨

[PS: If you are in Hamburg or around, please come join us for our next art fair where we are raising funds for Let’s Talk Period Sudan. This organisation works on the ground in Sudan to provide menstrual hygiene products to people displaced by the war. Here are more details, it will be so nice to say hi to you!]