Life & Style

When Priti Rao describes her four-bedroom villa, Spacehouse Himalayas, as “a controlled experiment,” the service design consultant is in a way describing the evolution of her dream home into a crucible for creatives. I’ve known her since 2014, when the one-acre plot she bought in Satoli, a tiny village in Uttarakhand, was “just sitting there”. Back then she worked for IDEO, the international design-forward consulting firm, and hardly was there a catch-up conversation when an idea connected to the house didn’t figure.

Spacehouse Himalayas’ stone facade was designed by Swedish architect Inger Thede to receede into the landscape.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

At one point she wanted to host an art and design biennale in the hills, which would transform Satoli into a Naoshima — the island in Japan that houses museums and art installations by the likes of architect Tadao Ando and the French painter Claude Monet. At another, it was this fleeting idea of an Airbnb for creative individuals. Today, at Spacehouse, she hosts transformational retreats that are akin to learning holidays. Think ikebana lessons by the Japanese artist Eri Iwase, or learning how to preserve and ferment food with chef Gayatri Desai of Pune’s Ground Up.

Artist Eri Iwase demonstrating the practice of Ikebana.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

Workshop on food and fermentation by chef Gayatri Desai.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

Every September, she hosts a thought leadership retreat for women called ‘The Himalayan Gatherers’. “We talk, go hiking, arrange for the group to connect with the locals. It’s a very intimate space to connect, to reflect and to be energised and inspired by each other,” she tells me. The 2025 edition (September 25-28), for instance, has participants such as Roopa Kudva, former MD and CEO of CRISIL, the global analytics company, speaking from her experience of taking hard decisions at work, alongside sessions on topics such as dyeing using natural materials.

Women leaders at a session of The Himalayan Gatherists retreat.
| Photo Credit:
Courtesy Spacehouse Himalayas

Her personal Naoshima is also in the making. Rao, herself a collector of design objects, hosts residencies (based on funding and availability) where she invites artists to create site specific works. Swedish light artist Joanna Thede, is one of several, who’ve stayed and created at Spacehouse.

What makes Rao’s venture particularly interesting is that it doesn’t fit a slot or label. Neither is it your regular homestay nor a place of pure academic pursuit, nor a venue that offers varied experiences. It’s none and all of the above. “During my own growing-up years, I wanted to be able to escape to a place like Spacehouse, where you can think without distraction,” she explains. “Either such places were out of reach or were highly competitive to get into. So, when I was building my own home, I thought why not turn it into that sort of space.”

Dancing Sticks performance at Spacehouse Himalayas by Iranian artist Shirin Abedinirad (right) and multidisciplinary artist Asavari Gurav.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

A life of building things and solving problems

Rao first came to Satoli in 1999, as a 21-year-old in search of her life’s purpose. She wanted to understand the work of Arohi, a non-profit that, among other things, develops programmes to improve the lives and livelihoods of rural Himalayan communities. “I knew I wanted life education versus academic education,” she says, “and I wanted to live in rural India.” This eventually led her to consider a career in “developmental impact and public policy”.

Founder Priti Rao.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

Looking back, Rao says she was “running away from the tyranny of being a doctor or an engineer”, careers that her South Indian banker parents would have liked for her to choose. Her interest in seeking out other ways of living was triggered by a pan-India train journey that she went on at age 18. Run by Member of Parliament Shashank Tripathi, it’s today known as Jagriti Yatra and introduces youth to creative entrepreneurial thinking. “Bombay was the only world I knew [till then],” confesses Rao. “On the journey we visited places across India and the Rashtrapati Bhavan in Delhi. I met truly amazing people, learnt so much, and rural India was a real eye-opener,” she says, with emphasis on the last part.

Much of Rao’s career has been outside of Satoli, though. She’s helped the Bengaluru-based artisanal coffee brand ARAKU bridge the gap between growing and brewing coffee. Then there was the five-year stint, mostly spent in San Francisco, at IDEO, which she describes half-jokingly as a “lifestyle where you travel the world and work with cool clients”. In the last role of her corporate era, she headed consulting firm Dalberg’s Asian design arm where she helmed projects such as a landmark one that measured the impact of Aadhaar on the lives of millions of Indians. Apart from the government, her clients have also included the likes of Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and the World Bank.

Spacehouse Himalayas’ stone facade seen through the copper entrance door designed by Brooklyn-based industrial designer Angie Kim.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

She also interspersed work with education, both of the RL (real life) and academic variety. A stint studying permaculture in Tasmania, (with Bill Mollison, considered the ‘father of permaculture’); a Ford Foundation-funded masters at the Institute of Development Studies, Sussex University, in the U.K.; and a PhD in service design from Northumbria University, U.K. Each fuelled by whatever had caught her intellectual fancy at that moment in time. “I have always wanted to build things and solve problems,” says Rao.

At Ahmedabad’s CEPT University, she’s been attempting to solve her problem of not finding able service designers by teaching the subject. This past summer, Rao hosted a two-week “residential school” for CEPT’s design and architecture students at Spacehouse where they had to create efficient solutions for travelling around the mountains. “In my mind it’s the ultimate use of the space,” she remarks.

Guests getting ready for a cacao ceremony on a misty morning.
| Photo Credit:
Courtesy Spacehouse Himalayas

The making of a winter house

Structurally, Spacehouse sits on a one-acre plot that’s a 750-metre hike from the nearest road, through a forest of oak and rhododendron. Pantnagar, with direct flights from Delhi, is the closest airport. Rao bought the land in 2008 because she “was very clear” she didn’t want to live in a city.

When she did start designing the space along with Swedish architect Inger Thede, she approached it as an architectural problem that needed solving. “The whole world lives in cold climates and somehow functions very comfortably indoors,” says Rao, referring to architectural design in the West that effectively incorporates heating and insulation. “Having lived in the Himalayas through many winters, I kept wondering: why haven’t we figured it out?” Rao says that thought was her one-line brief to Thede. “I said to her I want a winter house, not a summer house.”

Artist Eri Iwase in the studio playing with Japanese ink.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

The result is a home filled with light filtering in through large windows and skylights. Warm grey walls contrast red cedar floors. The furniture, the furnishings and the objects placed around the home were either made on-site, inspired by the environs, or point to Rao’s artistic leanings: Charles and Ray Eames, Ronan and Erwan Bouroullec, Italian houseware label Alessi, and Japanese minimalist design icon, Muji.

Large open verandahs with skylights inspired by American artist James Turrell.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

Local Indian craftsmanship and the use of natural materials, such as wood, stone, lime, and wool, all went into the making of Spacehouse. “The palette is deliberately neutral,” offers Rao, “to allow for nature to be the hero. And increasingly for artists to add their perspective and works to the space.” Plus, the building is powered almost entirely by solar energy and water comes from rain water harvesting.

Eclipse by artist Sagarika Sundaram.
| Photo Credit:
Abhishekh Khedekar

When she’s not hosting a residency or retreat or just living her dream Himalayan life, Rao rents the house out to generate funds to power the activities she has planned. She also generates revenue from charging for pop-up events and retreats (limited to 20 people), ranging from around ₹5,000 for half a day of learning how to preserve seasonal produce, to ₹50,000 per day for the three-day women’s leadership programme which includes boarding, lodging and local experiences.

“The ultimate project was designing my own life,” says Rao, as we wrap up our conversation, “which in hindsight was a product of a series of accidents and me following my instinct. With Spacehouse, finally, I think I’ve been able to connect all the dots between community, climate and art and design.” To me, it seems, she’s come full circle. From trying to figure out her own joy and purpose to helping others find theirs. The experiment continues.

The writer is based in Mumbai and reports on travel and culture.

Yezdi is back. For some, that single line is enough to send goosebumps down your spine. For others, it’s a cautious wait-and-watch moment. After all, nostalgia can only carry a name so far—today’s roads demand more. The 2025 Yezdi Roadster is here to prove that it’s more than just a revival of an iconic badge. And with the recent GST 2.0-driven price drop, it suddenly looks like a tempting deal.

I rode the Roadster as part of Yezdi’s NOMADS program, a 300-kilometer round trip from Mysore to Coorg and back. City chaos, arrow-straight highways, and winding hill roads — it was the perfect testing ground to figure out if the Roadster has what it takes to be more than just a memory on wheels.

First Impressions: Back from the past

Swinging a leg over, the Roadster instantly feels like more than just another motorcycle. It’s a name reborn. The stretched fuel tank, blacked-out mechanicals, beefy stance, and twin pipes make it an instant attention-grabber. It’s retro, yes, but it also carries an edge that feels contemporary.

City Ride: Surprisingly friendly

Mysore’s traffic was the first test . Despite its 184 kg kerb weight, the Roadster felt nimble and easy to handle. . Threading through traffic wasn’t a chore, and the brakes with dual-channel ABS delivered confident stopping power. The suspension handled potholes and speed breakers with composure, adding to its city-friendly charm. This is a motorcycle you won’t dread riding to work. And that, for something with this much presence, is impressive.

Highway Manners: Smooth at 90, Shaky Above

On the open highway towards Coorg, the Roadster was happiest cruising between 90–100 km/h. The 334cc liquid-cooled single churns out 29.1 PS and 29.6 Nm, working through a slick 6-speed gearbox. Mid-range torque is the star of the show—overtakes are handled with ease, and the engine feels unstressed at sensible speeds. But cross the 100 km/h mark, and the cracks begin to show. Vibrations seep into the bars and pegs, the mirrors blur into abstract art, and the instrument cluster—already reflective in sunlight—becomes even harder to read. This is not a highway mile-muncher. It’s a cruiser in the classic sense: happiest when you take it slow and steady.

The 2025 Yezdi Roadster turns heads wherever it goes.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

The Twisties: Roadster’s Playground

Then came the winding hill roads of Coorg, and the Roadster suddenly made perfect sense. The exhaust note, deep and throaty, eggs you on as the torque-rich mid-range pulls you out of corners. It’s not razor-sharp like a sportbike, but it has enough agility to make winding roads a joy. If your weekends are about chasing twisties with friends, this is where the Roadster will win you over.

Customization: Personal Touch

Yezdi has leaned into individuality by offering more than 50 customization options. From touring windshields to subtle cosmetic touches, owners can make their Roadster truly theirs. In a market where bikes often look like clones, this is a welcome move.

Specs Check

For the numbers enthusiasts, the Roadster comes with a 334cc single-cylinder liquid-cooled engine producing 29.1 PS and 29.6 Nm of torque, paired with a 6-speed constant mesh gearbox. It tips the scales at 184 kilograms and offers a seat height of 795 mm, which should be approachable for most riders. Fuel capacity is pegged at 12.5 litres, giving it decent range for weekend rides. Suspension duties are handled by 41mm telescopic forks at the front and twin gas-filled shocks with adjustable preload at the rear. Braking comes from a 320 mm disc up front and a 240 mm disc at the back, both backed by dual-channel ABS. Tyres are a 100/90-18 at the front and a beefy 150/70-17 at the rear, sitting on a 1440 mm wheelbase with 171 mm of ground clearance. All this puts it squarely up against the likes of the Royal Enfield Meteor 350 and the Honda H’ness CB350.

Effortless handling through Mysore traffic and open highways alike.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Weak Spots That Hold It Back

Of course, the Roadster isn’t without its flaws. The most obvious is the vibration that creeps in once you go past 100 km/h, rattling through the bars, pegs, and even making the mirrors practically useless. Long stretches at high speeds become uncomfortable as a result. The instrument cluster doesn’t help matters either, as glare in direct sunlight makes it difficult to read, especially when you need it most on open highways. Touring comfort at sustained triple-digit speeds simply isn’t its strong suit.

Price Drop: The Real Game-Changer

Where the Roadster claws back serious ground is in its pricing. With GST 2.0 restructuring taxes, the bike now costs significantly less than before. The range begins with the Sharkskin Blue at ₹1.93 lakh, climbs slightly to ₹1.96 lakh for Smoke Grey, ₹2.00 lakh for Bloodrush Maroon, ₹2.04 lakh for Savage Green, and tops out at ₹2.08 lakh for the Shadow Black. At these prices, the Roadster is no longer a sentimental indulgence but a value-packed option in the modern retro segment.

The Roadster shines on winding Coorg roads with its mid-range power and throaty exhaust.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

The Final Verdict

After more than 300 kilometers in the saddle across cities, highways, and mountain twisties, the Yezdi Roadster revealed its true character. This isn’t a machine chasing perfection, nor does it pretend to be. What it offers instead is personality — the kind that makes you glance back every time you park it, the kind that encourages you to take the long way home just to hear that throaty exhaust one more time. It thrives in the city, excels on weekend getaways, and delights on winding roads where its torque-rich mid-range and addictive soundtrack shine.

Sure, the vibrations, the limited highway comfort, and the reflective cluster are shortcomings that can’t be ignored. But they don’t erase what the Roadster delivers at its core: a raw, engaging ride that feels alive. With its price drop making it more accessible, the Roadster finally feels like it has found its rhythm. It’s not the polished symphony of refinement, but more like a gritty rock anthem—loud, unapologetic, and full of soul. And for riders who value motorcycles with character over clinical perfection, that’s exactly what makes the Yezdi Roadster worth considering.

Prices start at INR 1.93 lakh

Motorscribes, in association with The Hindu, brings you the latest in cars and bikes. Follow them on Instagram on @motorscribes

Published – September 23, 2025 08:16 am IST

In every Chettiar household sits a pettagam, a large, traditional wooden chest or strongbox that stores the family’s valuables. More importantly though, it holds the jewellery passed down through several generations. These wooden chests come with complex lock combinations and, in some households, have remained unopened for years, as newer generations are yet to find a way to bypass the mechanics.

A cheery, bright yellow building with green windows tucked away in Karaikudi, however, promises a deep dive into the rich and layered history of the jewellery of the region. This is Pettagam, India’s first private museum for Chettinad jewellery, conceived by jewellery designer Meenu Subbiah.

Among the earliest graduates from South India at the Gemological Institute of America, Meenu has been working on traditional Chettinad jewellery and exploring contemporary designs through her brand, Meenu Subbiah Jewellery, which she founded with her father in 1993.

Meenu Subbiah
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

“Chettinad, much like its mansions, cuisine, and textiles, has beautiful jewellery, created with deep meaning. Every motif you see has a purpose and history. However, this fascinating legacy has not been documented well enough,” says Meenu. This led her to embark on nearly 20 years of research, as she sought to delve deeper into the Natukottai Nagarathar community and their history with trade, precious gems, and jewellery. “I travelled across the country, and to Singapore, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, and several other places to speak to members of the community, historians, and anyone else who could share some insight and nuance,” says Meenu.

In Karaikudi, we step into the culmination of her travels and research at Pettagam, where the first floor is dedicated to tracing the history of the Nagarathar community that Meenu belongs to. She points out that the Silappadhikaram, the Tamil epic, documents the Nagarathars as traders of rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and pearls as early as the 2nd Century.

A display at the museum
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Through jewellery unique to the community — such as the kazhuthuru, an ornament given to a Nagarathar bride during marriage, and the gowrishankaram, considered to be the most important ornament worn by men during events and ceremonies including weddings — we learn about the rare and dwindling art of the close-setting technique. This technique, used in less than 10% of traditional jewellery, securely encases diamonds or other precious gems from the sides and back, in the precious metal used to make the piece.

“This is a rather complex and time-consuming art, and we unfortunately have a dwindling number of artisans who still practise it. Through Pettagam, we were keen on reviving this dying art. Pieces made with this technique are sturdy and come with so much nostalgia; they are pieces of the heart, and no machine can make this kind of jewellery,” Meenu says. At Pettagam, a separate display showcases the tools used in crafting jewellery through the close-setting technique.

Another facet she highlights are the unique motifs — from crabs and peacocks, to bows, laces, and conches that recur in Nagarathar jewellery. “Nagarathars who travelled were said to follow the crab routes, which is why it finds a place of prominence in many pieces, including our thirumangalyam (marriage ornament). Bows and laces are believed to have originated from visits to the royal family in England,” she says.

While the ground floor also has an AV room playing a film that takes visitors through the prominence of jewellery in Nagarathar culture, the first floor is a dedicated space for jewellery showcases. “Apart from heirloom pieces my family owns, I hope to have a rotating display of exquisite traditional pieces sourced from different families in this region. Alongside this will be a showcase of jewellery from my brands as well, which will also be available for purchase,” Meenu says.

Mayil Maguri
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Her newly launched brand, Vilasam, which specialises in traditional Chettinad jewellery will have a place of prominence at the museum, also highlighting the close-setting technique. Contemporary jewellery from her Menaya brand, and jewellery specific to different parts of the country, including guttapusalu from Andhra Pradesh and kaasu maalai from Kerala, adapted as part of the Vamsam range, will also be showcased.

Pettagam now joins the ranks of private jewellery museums across the country, like the Amrapali Museum in Jaipur, which spotlights unique craftsmanship and techniques while documenting jewellery legacies. Meenu adds, “Every region in our country has a beautiful ancestral legacy in jewellery, and these legacies deserve to be protected and preserved. This museum is an important archive of Chettinad and its jewellery, while also underscoring the importance of preserving traditional jewellery-making techniques.”

Pettagam is at SRM Street, Karaikudi, and opens for visitors from October 1. Guests can visit by making an appointment via email at concierge@meenusubbiah.luxe or by phone at 9566503736. Entry is free.

Published – September 22, 2025 04:35 pm IST

The Maruti Suzuki Victoris has arrived as the new flagship in Arena’s portfolio, created to broaden Maruti’s presence in the mid-size SUV space.

Although it shares its underpinnings with the Grand Vitara, the Victoris takes a slightly different approach. The body has been stretched to give it more road presence, while the wheelbase remains unchanged. As a result, it feels familiar in its proportions but manages to look a little more substantial from the outside. Powertrains are carried over as well — petrol, hybrid, and CNG — which means refinement and efficiency are present in plenty, but performance is not its strongest suit. Set against rivals like the Hyundai Creta, Kia Seltos, Volkswagen Taigun, Skoda Kushaq, Honda Elevate, and even Mahindra’s new Thar Roxx, the Victoris positions itself more as a smart-value alternative than an emotional purchase.

The Styling aligns with Maruti’s current design language, and while it is neat and contemporary, it does not push boundaries. The front has a clean face with slim DRLs running along the bonnet line, while the rear is tied together with connected tail lamps and a sleek light bar. In profile, the long body lends it a wagon-like stance, which sets it apart from the typical crossover template. Still, this is not a head-turner. Maruti has erred on the side of caution, producing something that looks premium and sophisticated, but not particularly striking.

Equipped with six airbags, Level 2 ADAS, and a five-star crash rating, the Victoris prioritizes safety while offering efficient and reliable performance for everyday driving.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

The interior, is where the Victoris makes its strongest impression. The cabin feels thoughtfully designed with soft-touch panels, layered design elements, and a general sense of quality that is a step above what Arena buyers might expect. The feature list is extensive — powered driver’s seat, ventilated front seats, 360-degree camera, wireless charging, heads-up display, ADAS, and a large panoramic sunroof. There’s a clear attempt to match rivals spec-for-spec. White upholstery is standard and does elevate the ambience, though it is not the most practical choice for Indian conditions. Thankfully, buyers can opt for darker tones if they’d rather not worry about upkeep. Rear-seat comfort is decent for knee and legroom, but taller passengers may find headroom lacking ( will be let down by the tight headroom —a shortcoming that stands out in a car of this size. 

Entertainment and connectivity are managed by a new 10.1-inch SmartPlay Pro X system, which feels crisp and responsive. It runs Maruti’s latest software, offers OTT app support, and even gets Alexa integration. Coupled with the Infinity by Harman speaker system, tuned for Dolby Atmos, the experience is immersive and easily one of the best in its segment. For buyers who spend long hours on the road, this combination of tech and audio quality is a genuine highlight.

A 10.1-inch SmartPlay Pro X system with Alexa integration, Infinity by Harman speakers, and Dolby Atmos audio ensures an immersive in-car entertainment experience.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

On the move, the Victoris is pleasant but never exciting. The 1.5-litre petrol and hybrid systems are smooth and well suited to city traffic, with the hybrid in particular capable of silent, EV-only running at low speeds. Efficiency remains one of its biggest strengths, especially compared to turbo-petrol rivals. But the downside is obvious — it feels sluggish when asked to accelerate hard. Even the automatic gearbox, though refined, cannot disguise the lack of urgency. The Victoris is more about calm progress than spirited driving. For those keen on mild adventure, the AllGrip all-wheel-drive system offers enough competence to tackle gravel or uneven tracks, though it is clear this SUV is happiest on tarmac.

Safety is a strong story for the Victoris. It comes equipped with six airbags, TPMS, disc brakes all around, and, most notably, ADAS Level 2 features. Maruti has tuned these systems specifically for Indian conditions, which makes them less intrusive and more usable in day-to-day driving. Add to that the fact that the Victoris has secured a five-star crash rating in both BNCAP and GNCAP tests, and it instantly becomes one of the safest models to wear the Suzuki badge in India. For a brand that has faced criticism in this area before, this marks a significant turnaround.

There is, however, one decision that might not sit well with traditional Arena customers. Instead of a spare wheel, Maruti provides only a tyre repair kit. While it saves space and reduces weight, it could easily be seen as cost cutting by buyers who value the security of a full-size spare. In a market that often prizes peace of mind over modern minimalism, this could end up being a sore point.

The cabin impresses with soft-touch surfaces, layered styling, white upholstery, and a host of premium features for a family-friendly experience.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

On the road, the Victoris does what it needs to. Ride quality is supple and forgiving, steering is light in the city but gains weight on highways, and outward visibility is excellent thanks to the generous glasshouse. It is composed at high speeds and unfazed by broken tarmac, which makes it a very usable family car. What it does not deliver is excitement. There’s no rush of performance, no spark of dynamism — it simply gets the job done, quietly and effectively.

And that’s really the essence of the Victoris. It ticks nearly every box that matters: space, features, safety, efficiency, and value. But it does so without exceeding expectations. It’s the dependable colleague who always delivers on time, but never goes beyond the brief. Maruti may be marketing it towards Gen Z, but in truth, it is better suited to families who want a reliable, premium-feeling SUV without unnecessary fuss. With prices starting at ₹10.50 lakh for the petrol, ₹11.50 lakh for the CNG, and ₹16.37 lakh for the hybrid, the Victoris has been positioned cleverly to undercut rivals while offering comparable equipment.

The Victoris will not thrill you, and it won’t make you fall in love at first drive. What it will do is reassure you every single day with its practicality, its economy, and the backing of Maruti’s vast dealer and service network. And for a huge slice of Indian buyers, that combination is reason enough to sign on the dotted line.

Prices start at INR 10.50 lakh

Motorscribes, in association with The Hindu, brings you the latest in cars and bikes. Follow them on Instagram on @motorscribes

Published – September 22, 2025 03:07 pm IST

What does the new Malayalam superhero film Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra have in common with indie gems The Man from Earth and Spring? If you know, you know — we can’t spoil the twist.

The toast of the season, Lokah, which just crossed 200 crore, is a modern retelling of timeless tales from folklore and pop culture. Malayalam cinema is having its moment — ruling big screens with Lokah and streaming platforms with The Chronicles of the 4.5 Gang. Meanwhile, the “documentary crew” from The Office has reappeared in a new spin-off, The Paper. Three titles, one theme: how stories reinvent themselves.

Driven by folklore

Every time you think pop culture has abandoned scripts for vibes, Malayalam cinema pulls you back. Unlike Coolie, which revealed everything before release, Lokah (by director and screenwriter Dominic Arun with dramaturgy by Santhy Balachandran) plays its cards close. Folklore-driven world-building keeps us hooked, every scene teasing the reveal.

I loved the slacker-trio-and-cat subplot — it nails the “save the cat” trope, building investment and anticipation. And when the superhero reveal comes, it lands with whistles: strength and vulnerability in one punch. Kalyani Priyadarshan shines in a role that never undermines gender politics.

She slaps the entitled “good guy” male saviour at the end of a crowd pleasing star cameo.

This franchise knows what it’s doing. And yes, do hunt down The Man from Earth and Spring to see possible echoes.

Four men and a dwarf

The “4.5 gang” has four men and a dwarf. As a ghostwriter listens to a gangster narrating his life, he tries to rationalise the name — maybe the gangster’s father was part of a similar gang? “No,” says the gangster, “he only had three accomplices.” “Let’s add a dog then,” the ghostwriter suggests. “Are you comparing a short person with a dog?” “Do you want politically correct art or entertainment?” comes the retort.

A still from Chronicles of 4.5 Gang Still
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

That exchange sums up the show. The Chronicles of the 4.5 Gang (from Krishand) is hilarious because it acknowledges the gangster-story clichés — romanticising crime, whitewashing villains — and weaponises them for comedy. The gangster brags about small-time scams, like skimming off milk trucks or controlling sale and supply of flowers, while the ghostwriter keeps reframing them for “larger” appeal.

It becomes a show about storytelling itself. Revisionism, exaggeration, the push-and-pull between truth and myth. Familiar tropes — the father-son conflict, the descent into crime — are constantly undercut by absurd details and self-aware commentary. The tension between fact and fiction fuels both, laughs and the narrative.

And the kicker: Santhy Balachandran, who co-wrote Lokah, plays the gangster’s love interest here. If you enjoyed Lokah, that alone should make you dive into this joyous, self-reflexive series — the best on OTT right now.

Post-truth world

Comedian and actor Ricky Gervais must love American sitcom The Office — it keeps him rich. Its latest spin-off, The Paper, makes one of the smartest pivots in pop culture: moving focus from backdrop (The Office) to subject (paper).

Dunder Mifflin is acquired by a conglomerate that sells both toilet rolls and newspaper The Toledo Truth Teller. For the owners, it’s all the same — just paper.

A still from The Paper
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

The opening credits set the tone — newspapers as food wrappers, trash, recycling — making it clear that the pivot is political.

The series plays as satire on journalism’s decline. High school bloggers draw more readers than professionals. The managing editor is a publicity hungry aspiring actor who hijacks the In Memoriam at the local press awards, turning it into a cringeworthy song, ‘Sad Dead Journalists’. It’s absurd, but the laughter catches in your throat because it’s too close to reality.

That’s the brilliance of The Paper. Like The Office, it’s exaggerated workplace comedy. But now it skewers how little society cares about journalism in a post-truth world, where truth itself feels disposable. Just another feed we scroll past.

From the hottest shows to hidden gems, overlooked classics to guilty pleasures, FOMO Fix is a fortnightly compass through the chaos of content.

Published – September 22, 2025 03:06 pm IST

The Cholamandal Artists Village will turn 60 next year. Nine and a half acres were purchased over time, as funds were rustled up. A batik exhibition in 1965 was a sell out and gave the group 50,000 rupees. Many put their share down for a piece of land in Injambakkam. The sea and its sandy shores beckoned them. Three artists from the commune speak to us.

P Gopinath (b. 1948)

“We all paid for the land,” says Gopinath. Venkatapathy’s was the first house, and Paniker’s the second. Gopinath lived in a thatched hut. “Paniker was a father figure, philosopher, teacher — you could reach out to him any time,” recalls Gopinath fondly. Those days they sold paintings for 100 to 150 rupees. The brilliant but unstable Ramanujam, whom Paniker rescued and brought into the community made drawings on the back of cards, with no money to buy paper.

“We used to walk to the beach and help the fishermen drag in the net so that we could get free fish,” laughs Gopinath. When a tea-kadai opened, it was a welcome haunt. “Those were the best times in our life, despite our struggles. We learnt to understand each other, not interfere with each other’s ideology.” Cholamandal’s setting was invaluable to its resident artists, unlike others, not as lucky. “Many good artists in our college were later lost in the crowd, dependent on work from cinema hoardings and advertising.” Gopinath’s interest in colour was already cemented, from his admiration for Gaugin to miniature paintings. “A few trips to Kangra strengthened my resolve to create my own pictorial grammar.”

Senior artist P Gopinath at Cholamandal art village
| Photo Credit:
Akhila Easwaran

Not everyone believed artists could live together. A visiting journalist wrote a scathing review — ‘the people who started this ‘utopia’ can be pushed off in a catamaran into the Bay of Bengal.’ Gopinath says, “We were lucky that Lonely Planet wrote a good article that drew in crowds and changed such perceptions.”

SG Vasudev (b. 1941)

When KCS Paniker found out that his students, SG Vasudev and Arnawaz were close friends, he encouraged their match. She was a free-spirited Parsi girl, and he was from Mysuru, already breaking convention by joining the School of Arts and Crafts. It would turn out to be a marriage of two fine-tuned artistic minds. Cholamandal gave freedom to artists in every way to share lives, to collaborate and to find their true spirit. The only son (he had two sisters) of parents who hoped he would be a doctor or engineer, Vasudev made art his chosen path, encouraged by art critic G Venkatachalam. Now, he had to prove it. After school, he secured a coveted National Scholarship. “I told my father he need not send any more money.” Vasudev became an accomplished visual artist, with his unusual techniques of layered paintings, exquisite copper reliefs and tapestries.

Artist SG Vasudev 
| Photo Credit:
SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

“Paniker started Cholamandal so that we could independently make a living. We never had to touch Government money,” says Vasudev with pride. From his early days at the village, he was interested in the sister-arts. An open-air theatre was built, with Paniker exhorting, “What about non-artists? We need to make a place for them as well.” Here Vasudev invited poet AK Ramanujam and theater-director Girish Karnad. Musicians and dancers even performed free of cost.

After Arnawaz passed away from cancer, Vasudev moved to Bangalore. He later married writer-activist Ammu Joseph. From cover designs for Kannada books to Ranga Shankara theatre’s logo, workshops and camps, and now Art Park in Bangalore, Vasudev has always been open to art-forms. At 84, he is making collages, which he began during the pandemic while experimenting with wedding card cut outs. From poets to craftsmen, Vasudev has always embraced diverse influences. The collage exemplifies his spirit of collaboration.

C Douglas (b. 1951)

“I visited Cholamandal as a student and stayed over weekends. Paniker had retired and I met him there,” recalls C Douglas, who was at the College of Arts from 1970 to 1976. “Conversations around Paniker used to be about art and literature, his love for Wuthering Heights.” Here, Douglas discovered that oil paint was invented to mimic skin tones and flesh. When Douglas showed his small oil canvases, Paniker observed they looked like tempera. The richness of oils was missing. “He then prepared a small canvas with layers of white coloured oil and gave it to me, saying — try this. The slippery surface made so much difference. It gave body to forms.”

Senior artist C. Douglas at Cholamandal art village
| Photo Credit:
Akhila Easwaran

Already, Josef James, who was teaching Economics at Madras Christian College in Tambaram was drawn to the artists village. James became the chronicler of the Madras Movement, and editor of the journal Artrends, which was published from 1961 to 1982 by the Progressive Painters Association. Douglas reminisces, “Life did have completeness. Modern Indian art was coming into a historic timeline.”

In 1978, art connoisseur Sara Abraham organised a travelling exhibition Kala Yatra. Six of the 12 artists were from Madras, as Douglas says, “I was a part of this, along with Ganesh Pyne, Ram Kumar, Bikash Bhattacharya, Hussain, Surya Prakash, Lakshma Goud, Janakiram, Nandagopal and Gopinath, as well as Thotta Tharani. The show was completely sold out.”

Published – September 22, 2025 01:08 pm IST

One day, mid-April 2017, S Nandagopal tried to reach me. I was away from Chennai. A day later I heard he had died. It was Sankranti, a joyful day, ending with his unexpected departure, Kala, his wife, told me. Why had he called, I wondered, with deep regret. Kala said, “He probably wanted to tell you that Paniker’s work sold at Osian’s auction for a record.” A whopping ₹1.8 crore, in fact, from his Words and Symbols series, acknowledged as one of the finest paintings of Indian modernism sold that month. It was 40 years since KCS Paniker, Nandagopal’s father, eminent artist, lead proponent of the Madras Movement, and founder of Cholamandal Artists’ Village, passed in 1977. Art appreciates in value, but what of the artist?

Early days – Cholamandal
| Photo Credit:
SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

Cholamandal, an ongoing show by Ashvita Gallery in the city features 22 artists from the group and 51 works, half from Ashvita’s non-commercial collection, and the rest on loan from private galleries and collectors. Curator Ashvin Rajagopalan emphasises, “The reason we did this show is because it is relevant today. The problem that Paniker addressed in the 1960s is a continuing problem: How do artists survive?”

Batiks at Cholamandal exhibition
| Photo Credit:
SHANTANU KRISHNAN

Art, industry, craft and regional modernism

“I was really intrigued by how they combined art, craft and batik”, says Sruthi Srinivasan, co-curator, Ashvita. We see humble scenes from everyday life — C Dakshinamoorthy’s cat with a fish, M Senathipathi’s woman doing her hair in front of a tiny folding mirror, and KV Haridasan’s Gustav Klimt-ish Embracing Couple. The craft is definitive, unquestionably Indian, exquisitely detailed.

Beyond ‘art for art’s sake’, monetary returns are needed, not just for success but sustenance. The mid-century Madras artists faced another confounding dilemma — how to be a true modern “Indian” artist. Art critic Ludwig Goldscheider wrote to Paniker in 1954, after his one-man show in London, acknowledging how the Indian artist has to surpass Western teachings, go beyond traditional styles of Ajanta, Tanjore and miniature paintings, and then emerge a modern master with a genuine Indian essence. It was a tough ask.

K.S. Gopal
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Paniker, the visionary with two decades of experience, resolved these anxieties in one masterful stroke. The Artists Handicraft Association founded in 1963 paved the way for Cholamandal Artists’ Village in 1966 with his credo, “The greatest craftsmen are the greatest artists.” Art and craft would go hand in hand, as they always had in India, with the rigorous training at the Government College of Arts & Crafts (now Madras College of Art) — the oldest surviving art school in the country.

Cholamandal – the early days 
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

TACEL, Tamil Nadu Ceramics Limited, established in 1974 by the TN Government in Vriddhachalam, fostered a local ceramic hub. In Madras, artist S Kanniappan set up Tacel Art Pottery, reputed for its studio pottery. These mid-century modern ceramic pieces with abstract motifs are unique and central to the Indian modernist landscape. Craft, practised across generations, sets this exhibition apart but also begs the questions: Is there a high art and low art? Does art get devalued when it is commercialised?

TRP Mookiah 
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

A village in the city, a new identity

The Akademi spurred the artists’ village, which, in a surreal way comes full circle at the new Lalit Kala with this show. In the 1960s, it was in a three-storied building in Vepery, near the College of Arts. Paniker allowed the artists to camp overnight. A camaraderie began that flowed into the idea of a commune: a place to live and work in an environment that supports and energises creative exchanges freely.

Senior artists P Gopinath, M. Senathipathi, C. Douglas, P.S Nandhan and Selvaraj at Cholamandal art village
| Photo Credit:
Akhila Easwaran

Why at all, did these artists turn to abstraction? In his essay Why I paint, Paniker writes of how he came across a maths student’s notebook full of symbols, equations and geometric notations. The imagery of writing presented the possibility of expressions that were agnostic. Gopinath does this with vivid colours and geometric forms, Haridasan with his esoteric Neo Tantric expression, while Akkitham Narayanan renders sophisticated hues in calligraphic gestures and subtle geometry. Without meaning attached to symbols, we only see images. It is a path that has allowed the artist’s genuine expressions, free from realist associations, using symbols without specific leanings. Rajagopalan hints at another level, suggesting, “Paniker wanted to create a space where art should thrive, a utopian space of no language, no caste, no state. Which is why, when this show came together — I had this ‘aha’ moment — If you take words and make them into design, it does not have meaning anymore.”

A distinctive style emerged — one that drew from indigenous sources of tribal, folk, mythology, and tradition evolving into its own modern element as we see in SG Vasudev’s copper relief Tree of Life from 1977. ‘Madras Metaphor’ a term coined by critic SV Vasudevan in 1991 is evident in Nandagopal’s Acrobat on Wheel that recalls tribal art forms, the acrobat balanced on a modern mechanical wheel — a metaphor of the new carrying the old. At their idyllic artists’ village by the sea, each artist forged their own identity, united by a love of line. Cholamandal brings these stories together strung like uneven gems, each with their own sparkle.

Cholamandal is on at Lalit Kala Akademi Chennai till September 25.

Published – September 22, 2025 12:56 pm IST

Sama in Ulsoor, Bengaluru
| Photo Credit: Special arrangement

If you want to know what’s going on with the world geopolitically, follow the fashion business, said no one ever. Perhaps the irony is tickling then, that even as Russia was hosting its biannual fashion week as well as its second annual BRICS+ Fashion Summit in Moscow recently, India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Russia’s President Vladimir Putin were having luncheon with the President of the People’s Republic of China, Xi Jinping, in Tianjin’s Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) summit. U.S. President Donald Trump — each one of the above country’s archenemy these days — found himself tweeting: “Look’s like we’ve lost India and Russia to deepest, darkest, China. May they have a long and prosperous future together!”

BRICS+ is a list of 10 countries: Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa, Egypt, Ethiopia, Indonesia, Iran and UAE, with several other countries participating in their international meetings and activities. “This is where the global conversation is shifting,” says Shirene Rifai, CEO of Jordan Fashion Week, who attended last year’s summit. “For too long, fashion was centred only in Paris, Milan, London and New York. Platforms like BRICS+ are creating spaces for non-western voices to be seen as equal players,” she says.

BRICS+ Fashion Summit

Europe’s sanctions on Russia, after its war on Ukraine in 2022, have impacted its industry. For example, Mercedes Benz pulled out of its title sponsorship of Moscow Fashion Week. The Week returned two years later, with independent unnamed sponsors. In 2024, they hosted their first BRICS+ Fashion Summit, which saw industry leaders from more than 50 countries sign a historic memorandum to form a new association that would fuel the world’s emerging economies. This aimed at shifting the centre of gravity from Europe and the USA to newer markets, especially China.

Drama in the capital

BRICS+ is especially important for India, which has long played a role in the global textile and garment industry, but has always been treated as a manufacturing hub or supplier of labour. Its ideas and talents have not been incorporated into Euro- or U.S.-centric fashion.

BRICS+ Fashion Summit

The International Monetary Fund in 2024 of the G7 and BRICS showed the gross domestic product (GDP) in purchasing power of the two groups was equal, with the BRICS countries ahead by 1%. But by May 2025, the latter was reported to have outperformed the global average, accounting for 40% of the world’s economy.

Russia’s image across the world is a bit like Baba Yaga, a legend from its famous folk tales. In some stories, she’s a kind and benevolent old woman who lives in a forest, in others she’s a child-swallowing witch. But for this writer, as a frequent visitor at Moscow Fashion Week, seeing the country and its style from up close has been eye-opening.

This season the fashion week launched a ‘Made in Moscow’ project, an initiative that supported local brands. The venue also moved from the grand Manege, a historic exhibition hall, to the more modern Zaryadye Park, a large modern structure in the middle of one of the city’s large parks, that has an amphitheatre, a concert ground, multiple auditoriums and large corridors for an assortment of activities.

Models at Zaryadye Park

Additionally, touristy venues were thrown in for added drama. The Pushkin Museum hosted a fashion show (Dior’s shows are often at Paris’ Musee de Rodin), label Ruban hosted another one in the fairytale-esque garden of Leo Tolstoy’s home. Moscow’s famous Floating Bridge, a glass-walled structure that offers views of the imperial Moskva river, became a gorgeous runway too, as did the Bolotnaya Square, the Artplay Design Centre and such. It’s a bit like Paris, where the whole city celebrates when a fashion week is on.

Made in Moscow at Bolotnaya Square

Models walk in the garden at Leo Tolstoy’s house

‘Young Russia is edgy and confident’

Nearly 70 designers from Russia took part — besides one from China, India, Turkey, Spain, Greece, Jordan, Nicaragua, Guatemala and some other countries. This year, India’s Fashion Design Council of India (FDCI) sent designer duo Shantnu & Nikhil. “This season [India’s fourth] too, we took a stall and had many queries. So, business to consumer sales have started,” says FDCI president Sunil Sethi. “We intend to increase the participation next year onwards.”

While each Russian label had something unique to showcase, all of young Russian fashion was mindful, thought-provoking, rebellious, and involved beautiful treatments on natural fabrics. Russia once designed opulently for the wives and mistresses of oligarchs, reminding one of India’s bridal couture market. But today it has become a template for streetwear. Designers such as Shantnu & Nikhil, Samant Chauhan and Nitin Bal Chauhan and (who have shown here recently), however, missed the memo. They showed lavish collections for a Russia that barely exists now.

Young Russia is rebellious, edgy and confident of its place in the world. It’s also hugely inspired by Russia’s music and nightclub scene. Never mind all the imperial glory of the U.S.S.R., the Russian Federation was born only in 1991. This young country is making itself heard on its own terms. One such label was Sol. The young designer Olga Selivanova hosted her show across a red brick wall just outside the auditoriums. She had beautifully layered clothes, playing around with textures, prints and dyes.

Fashion show at Pushkin Museum
| Photo Credit:
Konstantin Glazkov

Similarly, Ermi, a menswear label, stayed within its charcoal colour palette but put together many excellent pieces and styles that worked together so well, one could get dressed in the dark. Ogo played with denim, one of Moscow’s favourite fabrics (the other two are wool and leather, and there’s also linen). Popular label Za-Za played with form and volume and sent out clothes that were sculpted art works in themselves. I especially loved his use of petals, sometimes as lapels and at other times as headgear.

“Russian fashion is very diverse, and inspired by many subcultures, such as gothic, country, and even cyberpunk,” says fashion translator Ksenia Shalygina. “There is also a small group that follows the influence of the aesthetic of the 2000s, coffee dates, expensive cars and clothes with logos.” Tailoring and experimenting with surface textures is Russian fashion’s favourite pastime. Red September is a gorgeous streetwear label, Imkmode reminds one of Thierry Mugler. Rogov is a popular stylist and influencer who has turned designer.

Runway at the VDNH
| Photo Credit:
Konstantin Glazkov

Slava Zaitsev, Ulyana Sergeenko (dressed Lady Gaga), Valentin Yudashkin, Alena Akhmadullina (dressed Malaika Arora), Rasario (dressed Priyanka Chopra, Ananya Panday, Jahnvi Kapoor as well as Lauren Sanchez) and David Koma are well known global names.

Earlier this year, Demna Gvasalia from Georgia (formerly U.S.S.R.) was named chief designer of Gucci after reviving Balenciaga. Imagine a world where 10 such Demnas dominated luxury labels. It would make it harder for both the U.S. and Europe to ignore Russia’s influence on global runways.

The writer is a seasoned fashion journalist who believes the world’s economy can be ascertained by the length of hemlines.