Life & Style

Tokyo has the highest density of restaurants per capita in the world. It is a city shaped by an almost feverish devotion to food, where dining is less an occasion and more a daily ritual. In Chennai, Anna Nagar comes closest to that restless energy. Cafés, kiosks and hole-in-the-wall kitchens crowd its lanes, making a persuasive case for leaving your stove untouched.

This week’s discovery in the bylanes of Anna nagar East is Pep Asia. Tucked inside a café within a residential colony off the main road, it carries the hush of a speakeasy.

“We began as a cloud kitchen in T Nagar during the pandemic,” says Dennis Kumar, co-partner and owner of Pep Asia. “Last year, we took over Shack in Anna Nagar. When we acquired the space behind it, reopening Pep Asia as a dine-in restaurant felt like the natural next step.” To get to the restaurant, diners walk through Shack, a continental café, before slipping into the more intimate pan-Asian space tucked behind it.

Complete with a hibachi grill, the 26-seater space presents an expansive menu curated by Head Chef and co-partner Aravind Raja. “I understand the city’s appetite and palate, so putting this menu together wasn’t difficult,” he says. Aravind’s résumé lends weight to that confidence. He has previously worked at Golden Dragon at Taj Coromandel, China XO at The Leela Palace, and later served as corporate chef at Nasi and Mee.

We begin with a fragrant Thai coconut milk soup, perfumed with kaffir lime leaves, fresh ginger, basil and a measured hit of chillies. It wakes up the palate without overwhelming it. It pairs well with the punchy jumbo lotus stem. Unlike the thin Indian lotus stem often served crisp, these thicker slices are lightly fried while retaining a fresh, almost juicy bite. Tossed in a robust Thai garlic and black pepper spice mix, they deliver crunch, heat and depth, making it difficult to not reach for another bite.

The small-plate section invites lingering, from Korean shoestring sweet potato to Malaysian kicap chilli tofu and crisp fried chicken wings. The menu thoughtfully tags each dish with a flag denoting its country of origin and a chilli marker to indicate heat, making the pan-Asian sprawl easier to navigate.

To temper the heat, we turn to the salads. The Japanese silken tofu and avocado salad, with a wasabi dressing, is sharp and the kind of clean, bright freshness that feels tailor-made for a Chennai summer. In contrast, the Vietnamese chicken salad arrives more robust, layered with roasted peanuts, fried onions and fresh herbs. It is substantial enough to stand in as a meal on its own, though restraint may prove difficult given the rest of the menu.

Whatever else you choose to revisit later, the in-house signature seafood menu demands attention. The tiger prawns, tossed in superior XO sauce, are deeply savoury and expertly balanced. The flesh remains juicy and tender, a detail that speaks as much to sourcing as it does to technique.

Dennis is a seafood supplier and exporter, and the founder of Oyster Reef, a sustainable seafood sourcing platform that supplies several hotels across Chennai and beyond. The quality on the plate reflects that proximity to the source.

Another must-try from the seafood menu is the Thai hawker’s style crab omelette that announces itself even before it arrives on the table. The crab is soft and aromatic, and folded into a fully omelette that is slightly golden and crispy on the outside.

For the main couse, we skip past the Thai curries, laksa, pad Thai, and many renditions of ramen and fried rice, with difficult I must add, and try something new. The Malaysian mee hoon goreng, a vermicelli style noodles done in a classic hawker’s style is spicy and comes with protein of choice.

Ending a spicy Pan-Asian meal without dessert feels incomplete. We turn instead to a delicately made caramel custard prepared with coconut milk and palm sugar, scented with pandan leaves. The pandan crepes, stuffed with a sweet coconut filling, pair beautifully with coconut ice cream studded with chunks of fresh coconut.

More often than not, a massive menu at a small restaurant is a recipe for disaster, but here, the sprawl feels considered rather than chaotic. The kitchen knows where its strengths lie and is not afraid to keep turning out dishes that are bold, spicy and punchy. “It is a large menu, but we’ll keep changing things. We’re adding sushi next week,” says Aravind, laughing.

This is the kind of place where each visit could unfold differently — hibachi-grilled tenderloin one time, vegan clay pot mapo tofu the next. The only real question is: what are you ordering when you return?

Pep Asia is at C-24/2, 6th Street, Ward 101, Anna Nagar East. A meal for two costs between ₹600 and ₹800.

Published – March 02, 2026 04:10 pm IST

There is a particular paranoia reserved for early-morning flights. You set three alarms, wake before each of them, arrive at the airport aggressively punctual, and land feeling as though you have already lived an anxious lifetime. The promise of a dawn departure to any city is always the same — seize the day — but more often than not, you check in, draw the curtains with missionary zeal and collapse into a heavy slumber.

In Udaipur, I was determined to resist that script. I had come to preview a new rooftop cocktail bar, Dore (named after the local word for thread, which is built around the idea of connection, between past and present, story and flavour), at the Manuscript Hotel, helmed by Pranav Sharma, a second-generation hotelier who wears his inheritance lightly. The hotel looks towards the City Palace — still the largest palace complex in Rajasthan — its terraces rising above Lake Pichola like tiered stone confectionery. At dusk, the palace glows and the lake obligingly turns ink-dark, as if the city has adjusted its lighting for effect.

Dore by day
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

I had planned a virtuous nap before descending, restored, into mixology. Pranav intervened with breakfast, and while I was close to refusing, it felt faintly cowardly. It was at this point that a realisation hit: there comes a point in adulthood when discipline in a new city begins to resemble fear, so I went along.

Rajasthan does not believe in timid breakfasts. Its cuisine evolved in an unforgiving landscape; deep-frying preserves and spice asserts. Onion kachoris shattered to reveal hing-laced filling. Dal pakwan arrived crisp and even khandvi made an appearance, a reminder that culinary borders here are porous. We finished with jalebi, and somewhere between the sugar rush and the second kachori, I stopped feeling like a sleep-starved traveller clinging to an itinerary and more like a willing participant in local abundance.

The Peepli Bioscope highball
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Conversations over breakfast are usefully unvarnished. By the time our fingers were oil-slicked, I had asked Pranav whether Udaipur was ready for a serious cocktail bar at all.

He did not hesitate. “We’re degenerate alcoholics,” he said, laughing. “But it’s whisky, beer, and loud nights, mostly.” Rajasthan has never been unfamiliar with alcohol — from mahua brewed from forest flowers to the princely fondness for imported spirits. What Pranav proposes is not restraint but elevation. “Not intimidating,” he clarified. “But more thoughtful and a tad refined”

Kuldhara

Udaipur, he argued, already has the audience. Its residents travel, encounter cocktail culture elsewhere, and return home. Why should that calibre not exist here? To build credibility, he has partnered with Sagar Neve of Ekaa in Mumbai, known for technical precision and ingredient-led programmes. “If we were doing it,” he said, “it had to be serious.”

Pours and eats

Cocktails at Dore, which opens for service after 5pm, are not so much poured as narrated. Each of the 20-odd signatures arrives with a point of view while the menu reads like a cultural index to Udaipur itself. Threads run through it quite literally, a quiet nod to Dore’s central metaphor of connection, stitching stories across pages the way trade, folklore and memory have long stitched Rajasthan together, conceptualised, I am told, by Anjana Singhwi, founder of Chipper Creative, a branding agency. Latitude and longitude markings appear alongside the cocktails, gently pointing you towards the villages, landscapes and histories that inspired them.

Royal Oath

I began with the Saunf/Gin highball, which comes with a bioscope that displays the ingredients — a drink that could easily have veered into cloying nostalgia but instead held its nerve. The fennel offered a cool, aniseed lift that felt clean rather than confectioned, the botanicals crisp and articulate, and it found an unexpectedly elegant partner in the khargosh ka keema. The richness of the minced rabbit was gently sliced through by the gin’s clarity, while the fennel echoed the dish’s aromatics as though the bar and kitchen had shared a conspiratorial briefing beforehand.

Khargosh ka keema

The Kuldhara followed, built with tamarind, black cardamom, botanical gin and jasmine, and it was here that the bar’s instinct for restraint came into focus. The tamarind lent acidity without aggression, the black cardamom smouldered rather than smoked, and the jasmine hovered delicately at the edges that you almost doubted it was there until it was not. Sipped alongside a keema kachori slicked with lasun ki chutney, the cocktail felt like a measured counterpoint.

The Pudina Chai, a blend of mint, cumin, vodka and ginger, promised more than it quite delivered. On paper, it suggested a lively blend of herbaceousness and the tannic comfort of spiced tea, but in practice, the elements seemed to speak over one another. It was not an unsuccessful drink, merely an unresolved one, though the simplicity of a well-made paneer kathi roll did it a few quiet favours.

Mirchi bada

By the time the Thar Mirage appeared, I was negotiating with my own capacity, yet the drink felt assured. Nopal and cactus met mezcal and a restrained floral note in a combination that could have become theatrical but instead remained poised. The mezcal’s smoke provided structure, the cactus lent a green, almost succulent freshness, and the floral finish softened the edges without drifting into perfume.

I will admit that some of the drinks were a tad sweet, which I later learned is a preference among many drinkers in Udaipur. If you do visit, my suggestion would be to ask the mixologist to go light on the sweetness.

As the night drew to a close, the conversation segued into easy laughter. It was in that unguarded hour that the evening seemed to distil itself. I understood then that what Udaipur offers is not hospitality in the perfunctory sense, but something more layered: a city that welcomes you not only with warmth, but with its own interpretations of flavour and ritual.

A meal for two costs ₹3000 plus taxes

Published – February 28, 2026 02:36 pm IST

Orchidelirium referred to a feverish obsession with collecting rare orchids in 19th century Britain. It combined science, status, imperial expansion and speculative economics. And this is where The Orchid Album (1882-1897) comes in. Edited by Robert Warner with botanical text by Benjamin Samuel Williams and illustrations by John Nugent Fitch, it emerged at the height of the orchid mania. Collectors wanted authoritative and visually rich documentation of the newest exotic species arriving from Brazil, India and Southeast Asia. The album became both a status symbol and a horticultural reference. Additionally, in a period before colour photography, the richly saturated chromolithographs were the closest to reality. Issued in parts over 15 years, many sets were broken up for their plates (framed and sold individually). Complete 11-volume runs are therefore scarce, driving auction premiums. Which is why the listing of this artifact of British imperial botany by Indian online auction house AstaGuru in their ‘Imperial Treasures’ auction (February 25-27) is of interest to rare-book collectors, botanical art buyers, interior designers and institutional libraries. 

AstaGuru was most recently in the news for an artwork by Rabindranath Tagore selling for Rs 10.7 crore in December 2025 and setting a new auction record. ‘From Across the Dark’ was part of a “white-glove” auction, meaning all 87 lots were sold. As for ‘Imperial Treasures’, AstaGuru’s standalone interior auctions, they were introduced in 2021. “We can clearly see a steady rise in the demand for heirloom interiors as we continue to host more of this category,” explains Radhika Kerkar, Associate Director, Client Relations, AstaGuru Auction House. She adds that with cities developing quickly and spaces often looking similar, the individuality of antique pieces are much in demand. “We see strong interest in Satsuma ceramics, Baccarat and Murano manufacturing, as well as classic French furniture such as Louis XV pieces and even finely crafted Anglo-Indian furniture alongside European silver,” she continues. The heirloom interior category is a therefore a consistently expanding segment and Kerkar reveals that AstaGuru has garnered over ₹25 crores in total sales across its last three to four editions of Imperial Treasures. While The Orchid Album is estimated at ₹15,00,000-₹17,00,000, here are other rare collectibles from the 19th and 20th century at this auction that is conducted online at www.astaguru.com, from February 25 to 27.

Art Deco fruit bowls by Tiffany & Co

With the centenary of Art Deco being celebrated last year, lot number 88, featuring fruit bowls from 1940, is well-timed indeed. Designed as shallow circular dishes raised on sculptural pedestal bases, they showcase bold geometry and highlight Tiffany’s mastery of modern design.

Estimate: ₹33,00,000 – ₹35,00,000

Heriz carpet

Lot number 73 is a classic Heriz carpet. Heriz rugs are Persian carpets made in the Heris region of East Azerbaijan, northwest of Tabriz in Iran. This specimen was hand-knotted in the 19th century. In warm amber, it comes with the customary central medallion, in navy, and is surrounded by flowers and geometric shapes.

Estimate: ₹20,00,000 – ₹24,00,000

13-light crystal floor chandelier by Baccarat

Lot number 41 is an impressive crystal chandelier from Baccarat. Made in the 20th century, with 13 lights, its big stem in the middle and tulip-shaped candle holders are a reminder of the glamorous nights of old. It is decorated with sparkling pendants and drops.

Estimate: ₹25,00,000 – ₹30,00,000

French Malachite Mantel Clock by Jacquier, Paris

Lot number 18 is a clock from Jacquier in Paris. The Empire period mantel clock is executed in malachite and finely cast ormolu. The silvered brass dial, also signed Jacquier, is fitted with Roman numerals and a steel moon hand, and is set within a leaf-cast bezel decorated with rosettes. On the case is a gilt-bronze figure of Orpheus, wearing a laurel wreath and holding a lyre.

Estimate: ₹18,00,000 – ₹20,00,000

Pair Of Meiji-period Japanese Satsuma vases

Japanese earthenware pottery better known as Satsuma ware have a rich history. They are usually hand painted with enamel and fired gold accents, a meticulous process that goes back to the 1600s and still continues today. Lot number 83 has some fine vases from the Meiji period and decorated with pictures of the First Emperor and Empress. In soft ivory, with geometric shapes and gold highlights.

Estimate: ₹10,00,000 – ₹12,00,000

Published – February 27, 2026 07:43 pm IST

On certain mornings, the drive out of Mumbai begins in compression with glass towers, flyovers, and the low-grade impatience of traffic, before loosening into the long, engineered sweep of the Mumbai–Pune Expressway. It is a road of tunnels and viaducts, banking curves and sudden descents, cutting through the basalt folds of the Western Ghats.

As the ascent toward Khandala begins, the mood shifts. The Bhor Ghat section — historically a crucial rail and trade pass — remains one of the most dramatic stretches of the route. In the monsoon months, waterfalls streak down the rock faces; fog gathers without warning. The journey is efficient by design, but the landscape refuses to remain neutral. You move from velocity to vertigo to a certain suspended quiet.

One of the entrances to the chapel
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

It is within that quiet that Abbey 301 now stands.

The chapel, named after the area’s postal code, predates the Expressway by nearly two centuries. Held by the Kotak family since 1973, the nearly 200-year-old black basalt chapel has entered a new chapter under Kamini Kotak and architect Adil Dholakia of Five Cross Architects, who led its recent restoration.

The property was acquired by the late Bhagwanbhai Kotak, the family patriarch, who encountered the former Anglican chapel at a time when its congregation had thinned in the years after Independence and the building stood decommissioned and locked. With deep roots in the Sahyadris, the family already considered the region home. Drawn to the chapel’s gravitas, Bhagwanbhai persuaded the Church to sell it to him, initially imagining it as a library for his personal collection.

What began as a private act of preservation has since evolved into a broader gesture of cultural reclamation.

“Abbey 301 began with a simple question: what would it mean to restore a historic structure not as an object of nostalgia, but as a living space for listening and exchange?” Kamini says. “The founding idea was never scale but depth.”

A musical act in performance
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Poets of Our Time — spoken word with Kausar Munir
| Photo Credit:
Special arrangement

Building legacy

Depth, in this case, is architectural as much as philosophical. Churches were built for collective attention. A nave is, at heart, a long room calibrated for listening. Vaulted ceilings and reflective surfaces carry sound with an ease that modern halls often attempt to simulate electronically. The chapel’s stone masonry, timber roof-truss framework and generous volume were treated as non-negotiable during restoration.

Adil describes a conservation approach guided by minimal intervention and reversibility. The most pressing concern was the roof, where prolonged moisture exposure had weakened timber joints and allowed water ingress. “Each truss was documented and assessed individually; wherever possible, original members were retained and strengthened through consolidation and splicing. Only elements beyond recovery were replaced with matching sections. The roof slope was corrected, drainage addressed, and the interior spatial character left intact. The aim was structural longevity without erasing the building’s accumulated voice,” he says.

Modern systems were inserted carefully and services were routed underground across the site. The chapel’s seasoned timber surfaces already offered acoustic richness, so heavy treatments were avoided.

“The chapel’s ambience is not ornamental; it shapes behaviour,” says Safala Shroff, chairperson, Abbey 301’s Steering Committee. “Technically, this means favouring acoustic performance over excessive amplification, subtle lighting over theatrical rigging, and modular interventions that remain reversible. Contemporary performance does not require domination of space — it requires clarity.”

Pushan Kripalani, the creative director, speaks of the building almost as a collaborator. “The space lends itself to intimate gatherings from one human heart to another. We have no neutral space like a conventional theatre lobby or foyer, so the experience begins immediately. Other spaces try to bring down the metaphorical fourth wall. We just decided not to build one.”

That absence — no buffer, no proscenium distance — shapes the programming. The chapel seats just 100. It cannot afford spectacle; it depends on presence.

The opening weekend, at the end of January reflected that sensibility. It began with reflection and poetry by Kausar Munir, interwoven with readings by Shanaya Rafaat, before moving into the acoustic textures of Nikhil D’Souza. Jazz followed with the Sanjay Divecha Trio, and the weekend closed with morning ragas on the bansuri by Rakesh Chaurasia. In a room that holds only a 100 listeners, each shift in tone registered palpably.

Sanjay Divecha Trio live at Abbey 301

Viability, of course, hinges on geography. Khandala sits roughly 80 kilometres from Mumbai — close enough for a considered weekend drive, far enough to deter the casual attendee. The Mumbai–Pune corridor carries steady traffic year-round, yet the ghats impose seasonal moods: monsoon fog, holiday congestion, the occasional landslide advisory. Abbey 301 cannot rely on walk-ins but must cultivate intention.

“We’ve just started. It’s a slow process,” Pushan says of the curatorial vision. Outreach and collaborations are in the works and residencies are envisaged. “Abbey 301 is a space where people can develop new ideas, play off the audience, and let the historical and the contemporary coexist in time. We aim to be for and of the community.”

That ambition extends beyond ticketed evenings. The venue’s outreach initiative, Setu, is already active in local schools. “It goes beyond arts instruction to strengthen language skills, self-confidence, and empathy through drum therapy and spoken word,” says Kate Currawalla, a member of the Steering Committee. The programme seeks to identify and support resource persons from the region to deliver workshops across schools and the wider community, creating employment alongside artistic engagement.

Sanjay Divecha Trio

A restored chapel in a hill station can easily become picturesque — another backdrop for metropolitan leisure. The harder task is embedding it within the rhythms of the region. Abbey 301’s experiment lies somewhere between pilgrimage and participation: a place worth driving to, and a place that belongs where it stands.

For upcoming shows and ticket details, visit www.abbey301.org

Published – February 27, 2026 05:13 pm IST

Recycled PET bottle seats, French iridescent crystal orbs, benches that marry sabai grass weaving and teak carving, cashmere seats with cast brass ellipsoids for drama, sculptural lighting — these were just some of the design statements and material mastery on display at India Design ID 2026 in New Delhi. It ran in the penultimate week of February.

A few standout booths won applause for their imagination, with a truly Indian soul, and finally, The New Guard celebrated upcoming design voices.

Some of the highlights at this edition, which celebrated Design Syncretism, included ‘Design, Tomorrow’, a special curation of objet d’art by festival director Misha Bains, the ColourNext pavilion by Asian Paints, and French mastery across lifestyle spaces. A few standout booths won applause for their imagination, with a truly Indian soul, and finally, The New Guard celebrated upcoming design voices.

Misha Bains

The French quarter

Business France and the Embassy of France in India, along with ID, presented French designers and Indian innovators across craft forms. H.E. Thierry Mathou, Ambassador of France to India, was upbeat about the collaboration. “Being held under the India-France Year of Innovation banner, this event combines the excellence of the French lifestyle industry with innovation to build ambitious and inspiring collaborations between our two countries.” The curation was energetic and eclectic. Brilliant crystal by Baccarat, Daum and Cristal Benito, sophisticated sonic systems by Devialet, biophilic kinetic lighting by Lux Temporis and furnishing by Casamance & Misia shared space with Indian design studio Klove, a guest designer known for hand-blown glass lighting.

Cristal Benito

Bains observes, “When it comes to France, it is not the brand name but the designers who stand at the forefront. As for India, earlier we were considered a maker’s market, but now India is a place where collaborations can happen, celebrating craftsmanship with a contemporary flair. We also have a strong presence at the symposium with co-curated talks with designers Vikram Goyal (architect) and India Mahdavi (designer) coming together.”

Modernism meets tradition

Celebrating objects of singular bravery, both in materiality and scope, ‘Design, Tomorrow’ offered studios a space to spotlight Indian modernism married with traditional art forms. This year, Bains said she “wanted to display craft and design in a museum-like environment. Traditionally, if you talk about futuristic design, you think of space and technology. We wanted to define the future of design in terms of storytelling, by highlighting eco-conscious design, utilising and reusing resources from the POV of longevity.” Each of the 47-pieces created was unique across materiality and encompassed lighting, tapestries, furniture, textiles, etc.

EcoLattice chair

“The EcoLattice chair uses recycled plastic waste and bonded material to create a seat. You have a narrative of sustainability where Ariane Ginwala’s studio, ThisandThat, has a beautiful bench celebrating traditional craftsmanship (teak carving with sabai grass weaving from Odisha). There is sustainability built into each craft in India, because it’s from a particular region catering to daily needs, and craft is functional,” Bains explains.

Material intelligence forecast

Asian Paints celebrated craftsmanship, heritage and hope, with a future-facing design language at its ColourNext pavilion. The brand unveiled ‘moonlit silk’ as the colour of the year. A delicious shade of amla green, it is a return to nature and texture, and quite a departure from Pantone’s monochrome ‘Cloud Dancer’. The pavilion, also presented four design directions, each with its own curated space conceptualised and designed by Bengaluru-based Wari Watai. The curation by Asian Paints offered an idea of what Indian design can expect in the year ahead.‘Pastoral’ was a celebration of heritage, focusing on materials and traditions shaped over time, while ‘Solarpunk’ highlighted regeneration, resilience and a balance between nature and technology. The ColourNext pavilion balanced overstimulation with mindful presence in ‘IRL’, designed to spark conversations, by creating thoughtfully grounded environments, while ‘Daydream’, was an ode to fever dreams with playful forms, creating environments that feel comfortable, using transparency and gentle layering.

Gen-Next designers

An initiative to create a platform for Gen-Next designers, this pavilion was a look at how rooted Indian design branches out, finding new expression in modern aesthetics. “We created an open call for people to submit their projects and shortlisted six studios. A lot of them are very young, but they’re reviving shapes and forms traditionally,” explains Bains. “The response to our collection, especially the interactive wall, was exceptional. We met incredible people, explored exciting partnership opportunities, and walked away with fresh ideas for our upcoming collections,” says Parth Parikh, founder of Design Clinic India.

Blow Bench by Pasana

The chosen six studios celebrated Indian artisans using heritage craft with a contemporary syntax. Three studios from Ahmedabad: Umber Furniture Co. (co-founded by Niti Sehgal and Nandakumar S.S.) invoked intuitive design with traditional craftsmanship; the Hero Chair by Amolakh (founded by Amolakh, managed by grandson Maneesh Kumar Jangid) explored structural efficiency and extreme lightness; and Dhaaga Designs (co-founded by mother-daughter duo Mehal and Aashni Thakore) collaborated with artisan communities from Kutch, Bihar, Bengal Rajasthan and Gujarat to celebrate tactile richness of hand processes. Indore-based Spero Furniture, founded by Madhuri Rao, explored furniture as dialogue between alloy and wood grains and New Delhi-based Orikrit, co-founded by Deepti and Ayush Jain, reinterpreted folding through contemporary objects and lighting.

Worthy mentions

Jaipur Rugs in collaboration with Princess Pea.

For Sharan Apparao, creative director, Apparao Galleries, three studios stood out. She explains, “Beyond Designs (velvet chateau), Nivasa (sophisticated vignettes) and Within (marble dust wall installation, traditionally built objet d’art) really shone with their maximalist presentation in a contemporary way. From woven walls, beautifully framed images, and expert finishing, they were impressive. Both art and accessories got good attention. I particularly liked Kohelika Kohli’s booth, while Jaipur Rugs are really outdoing themselves (collaboration rugs with Princess Pea).”

The Petty Chair

Elsewhere, all eyes were on The Petty Chair (made by the Wallmakers in collaboration with Neytt Extraweave), fashioned from recycled PET bottle yarn, with a single length of the carpet repeatedly folded and stitched to form a self-standing ergonomically designed seat.

Mr. B dining chairs by Rooshad Shroff

Studio Metallurgy

The molten-inspired chairs of metallurgy, sculptural stone furniture by Pasana, embroidered cabinets and Mr. B dining chairs by Rooshad Shroff (cashmere upholstered chairs with walnut wood and cast brass ellipsoid features) and Radhika Sanghvi’s inspired sculptural illumination, Faulty Lines, were just some of the materially diverse examples of the theme, ‘Design Syncretism’.

Magma Console by Pasana

Bains concludes, “The whole idea is to read the pulse of the industry. What we see right now is designers born in India, but with global influences, bringing back rooted craft. We have different cultural practices from across the country, coming together as well. It’s contemporary design, a new wave.”

The freelance writer is based in Chennai.

I opened a new Hoppers outlet last month. New dishes, new room, a familiar mix of excitement and mild terror paired with the hope that people will like the food. On the opening night, I posted a photo of our crab kari omelette, a dish I’m particularly proud of. Within minutes, I received a message: “Share recipe.”

No please, no maybe. Just, share recipe. A sentence that somehow served as both, a compliment and a demand. As if my role, at that moment, was less than a chef or a restaurateur and more of a content-vending machine.

That small exchange sums up something bigger I’ve been circling for a while. Entitlement created by social media. How the walls between kitchens and customers, creators and audiences, have come down. And how, like most big shifts, it cuts both ways.

There was a time when access to chefs, owners and kitchens was rare. You booked a table, you ate the food, you maybe caught a glimpse of the chef if they popped out at the end of service. Feedback happened quietly, if at all. If you really felt strongly, you wrote a letter on paper, with a stamp, and hoped it reached the right hands.

Now, the kitchen door is permanently ajar. The chef is in your pocket and the owner is one DM away. Instagram has turned into a customer service desk, a complaints department and, occasionally, a confessional.

I rarely block people who disagree with me. I don’t mind being challenged. I don’t even mind a bit of bluntness. What I struggle with is impoliteness. That tone of ‘you owe me this’.

Some messages are harmless, but telling: “Send recipe” or “Why don’t you post more vegetarian?”. Others are stranger: “I can’t believe you charge for recipes” or “I don’t want to pay for another subscription, can you email me the recipe.”

When I put recipes behind a paywall, the backlash fascinates me. Not because people don’t want to pay. That’s fair. But because some seem offended by the idea that online content might have value. We’ve somehow decided that it should be free by default, even though we’d never ask an author to send us their books for free or journalists to email their articles because we liked the headline.

Creating good content takes time and effort. Testing recipes takes ingredients, teams, equipment, research, and a lot of trial and error. Add to that filming, editing, writing, posting and answering questions, alongside a day job and family life. Instagram may feel casual, but for many of us it’s work, and part of the job today. A one-minute reel can often take hours to film and days to direct and edit.

When I started Hoppers a decade ago, the job was simple in theory. Cook well, build a happy team, run a tight service and deliver genuine hospitality. Now there is an additional layer. Document it all, caption it, be upbeat, be on-trend and stay consistent. Algorithms favour frequency and silence is punished. If you don’t post, you disappear.

There is an incessant pressure in that. You can have a brilliant service and still feel faintly anxious because you didn’t film anything. You can be exhausted and still feel the need to show up smiling in stories. Instagram is no longer optional for many creative professionals. It’s marketing, PR and community rolled into one.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all gloom and, yes, being seen is a conscious decision we take. Social media has many benefits. Discoverability is democratised. Anyone can build something from their own kitchen table. Between YouTube deep dives and TikTok teasers, anyone can learn the basics of almost any cuisine. As someone who cares deeply about food culture, that excites me. The walls coming down have allowed more voices in. More regional stories, more creativity and a lot more accountability.

The tension, however, is boundaries. Visibility is mistaken for availability and generosity for obligation. Transparency doesn’t mean total access. Sharing doesn’t mean surrendering everything. Just because you can reach someone instantly doesn’t mean they owe you a response, a recipe or an explanation.

I don’t have a neat solution. The truth is, as someone with over half-a-million followers, I’m grateful for the access, the attention and the conversations. Social media has allowed me to build restaurants and share ideas I never could have a decade ago.

But like any shared table, it works best when everyone remembers there are other people sitting around it. And if you really want the recipe, try asking nicely. You’d be surprised!

Karan Gokani is a London-based chef and restaurateur who spends his time cooking, travelling and exploring what the world is eating. He loves the gym, biriyani and his frying pan. Not necessarily in that order.

Published – February 27, 2026 03:57 pm IST

Medical tourism is evolving in scale, intent, and expectation. Patients today are no longer travelling only for affordable treatment or specialised procedures unavailable in their hometowns. Increasingly, they are choosing destinations that offer a complete care ecosystem that integrates medical excellence, comfort, ease of navigation, and post-treatment recovery.

This shift is reshaping healthcare real estate. Hospitals catering to international patients are no longer viewed purely as clinical institutions. They are being planned, positioned, and operated as long-term healthcare assets that must compete at a global level.

Medical tourism 2.0 reflects this transition. It places architecture and real estate strategy at the centre of decision-making, influencing land use, zoning, master planning, asset performance, and the overall positioning of healthcare developments.

For medical tourism to succeed, hospitals must function as destinations within the urban and regional fabric. From a real estate perspective, this changes how sites are selected, how access is planned, and how developments relate to their surroundings.

International patients often arrive after long journeys, accompanied by family members who stay for extended periods. Hospitals that are easy to approach, clearly organised, and intuitively zoned reduce cognitive and emotional stress from the moment of arrival. This clarity is not cosmetic. It is a real estate advantage that directly influences patient throughput, length of stay, and operational efficiency.

Entrance plazas, arrival courts, legible lobbies, and clearly segregated circulation for patients, visitors, and staff become critical planning decisions. These elements enhance wayfinding, reduce congestion, and allow large healthcare campuses to operate smoothly while handling global footfall.

Hospitality logic to healthcare

Hospitality design has long focused on predictability, comfort, and seamless movement. These principles translate effectively into healthcare real estate serving international patients.

Patient rooms are increasingly planned as hybrid spaces that balance clinical efficiency with spatial calm. Concealed medical equipment, controlled lighting, acoustic comfort, and adequate space for attendants transform rooms into environments suited for longer stays. From a development standpoint, such rooms increase adaptability and future readiness, allowing facilities to cater to diverse patient profiles without extensive retrofitting.

Wellness-oriented spaces such as landscaped courtyards, therapy zones with outdoor access, and daylight-rich recovery areas are no longer add-ons. They are becoming integral to healthcare real estate, enhancing patient outcomes while increasing the perceived value of the asset.

Digital infrastructure

For global patients, clarity and predictability are essential. This makes digital infrastructure a core real estate consideration rather than an operational afterthought.

Hospitals designed for medical tourism must accommodate teleconsultation suites, digital check-in zones, smart patient rooms, and integrated building management systems. Architecture must support uninterrupted data flow through dedicated service zones, server spaces, and adaptable technical shafts.

When technology is seamlessly embedded into the physical environment, patient movement becomes more efficient, staff workflows improve, and waiting times reduce. From a real estate standpoint, this integration enhances operational resilience and ensures that facilities remain competitive as healthcare delivery models evolve.

Real estate planning that accounts for cultural diversity improves usability and inclusivity without increasing complexity. Neutral prayer spaces, universally understood signage systems, flexible room layouts, and kitchens capable of supporting varied dietary requirements all contribute to a sense of belonging.

Outdoor courtyards and semi-open spaces offer areas for reflection and gathering. These spaces also improve microclimates and spatial hierarchy within large developments, reinforcing both functional and emotional comfort.

Healthcare buildings are among the most energy-intensive real estate assets.

Efficient facades, shading strategies, optimised daylighting, renewable energy systems, water management, and climate-responsive landscape design contribute to long-term operational stability. These strategies reduce lifecycle costs, improve building performance, and ensure reliability under continuous use.

For medical tourists, sustainability signals institutional responsibility and long-term commitment. For developers and operators, it strengthens asset viability and regulatory readiness. In Medical Tourism 2.0, sustainable design is directly linked to both patient confidence and financial prudence.

As healthcare continues to globalise, experience is becoming a form of care and a key differentiator in healthcare real estate.

When hospitality principles align with medical planning, hospitals become easier to navigate, less intimidating, and more humane. Patients move with confidence, families feel supported, and care teams operate efficiently within well-structured environments.

Medical tourism 2.0 calls for architecture that prioritises clarity over grandeur, efficiency over excess, and familiarity over luxury. For architects, developers, and operators, this represents a shift towards designing healthcare assets that are resilient, adaptable, and globally relevant.

Published – February 27, 2026 03:52 pm IST

The Nita Mukesh Ambani Cultural Centre has made something of a habit of importing spectacle. After hosting crowd-pullers like The Sound of Music, Mamma Mia!,West Side Story, Life of Pi, The Phantom of the Opera and The Nutcracker, it now welcomes its ninth international showcase: Wicked, which runs from March 12-29. And not just any Wicked, but an entirely new production that carries the same beloved score and script while reimagining the direction, choreography and design for a fresh generation.

Globally, Wicked has drawn more than 65 million people across 130 cities in 16 countries. Its songs — ‘Defying Gravity’, ‘Popular’, ‘For Good ‘— have become cultural shorthand for ambition, friendship and the kind of heartbreak that still leaves you standing. The story, based on Wicked, with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and a book by Winnie Holzman, takes us back to Oz long before Dorothy’s neat pigtails and ruby slippers. It asks a far more unsettling question: who decided one woman was wicked and the other good?

Elphaba and Glinda inWicked
| Photo Credit:
@joaocaldasfilho

At the helm of this new staging is director John Stefaniuk, who approaches the material with a keen awareness that the world has shifted dramatically since the show first opened over two decades ago. “When first looking at Wicked and trying to decide how to approach such a historic piece in cultural history and how best to give it a voice that would speak to today’s audience, I first looked at what had changed since it was first introduced some 25 years ago,” he says. “For me, the greatest shift in the last 20 years has been the introduction of social media and its influences on society.”

It is a deliciously modern lens through which to view Oz. “Beginning with Glinda, to me she is truly the first Ozian social influencer, spreading her thoughts through bubbles across the land,” John explains. “Elphaba, on the other hand, is a victim of cancel culture in Oz, shouldering the burden of being different physically and then cancelled from speaking the truth.”

To bring those themes of identity, prejudice and public shaming to life, John keeps the rehearsal room stripped back at first. “I always begin every rehearsal process sitting at a table where we don’t rely on the set or costumes or movement, we only rely on the text and understanding what and why we say every word on the page,” he says. The idea is simple but effective: before the broomsticks fly and the gowns shimmer, the actors must find themselves in the lines. “For me, the more of themselves the actor is willing to bring to stage, the more truth will shine in the production.”

John Stefaniuk

That truth is most tenderly felt in the evolving friendship between Elphaba and Glinda, played here by Rebekah Lowings and Eve Shanu-Wilson. Their on-stage rivalry softens into something deeper and far more enduring, and John admits that watching their off-stage camaraderie grow was half the magic. “Rehearsals with our two leading ladies were an absolute joy,” he says. “I loved seeing how their own friendship blossomed throughout the rehearsal process, each supporting the other as they discovered their performances.”

Like their characters, the actors began from different strengths — one at home in soprano sparkle and comic timing, the other wielding what John fondly calls “a voice of steel” — and gradually uncovered the emotional depths together. What audiences see each night is not simply choreography and blocking (planned movement and positioning of actors on stage), but a shared journey forged in rehearsal rooms long before the curtain rises.

The spectacle

John with Rebekah

Visually, this production leans into contrast. John imagines Oz as two worlds running in parallel: the glossy public façade and the unsettling private machinery beneath. “When looking at the Emerald City at first glance, it is a funfair much like Lunar Park or Coney Island from the turn of the century,” he says, describing rides, lights and smiling crowds. “On closer examination, though, we see behind the curtain it is nothing more than cages capturing and enslaving its inhabitants and punishing those who speak out against it.”

It is this shift in perspective that blurs the neat line between good and evil. The Wizard’s grandeur begins to look suspiciously like spin, and Elphaba’s so-called wickedness feels closer to moral courage.

For Indian audiences encountering Wicked live in Mumbai for the first time, John believes there is a natural bridge. “India has always had such global recognition for its Bollywood films,” he says, noting the shared love of music-driven storytelling. “In the same way, it blends the spectacle and heart in the same exciting and joyous way!”

And spectacle there is, from soaring witches to a tornado that seems to sweep through the auditorium itself, supported by a company of over 100 performers, crew and orchestra members, hundreds of costumes and a design team that treats Oz as both playground and warning sign. Yet for all the technical wizardry, John returns to the emotional core. “Much like a magician, it is our job to make you believe the unbelievable is happening right in front of your eyes,” he says. “You may enter the doors in Mumbai, but when the lights dim — you are in Oz.”

And perhaps that is why Wicked endures. Beneath the emerald sheen and gravity-defying theatrics lies a story about being misunderstood, about standing up when it would be easier to smile and wave, and about friendships that change the course of your life.

Tickets start from ₹2000 onwards; available on nmacc.com or bookmyshow.com

Published – February 27, 2026 02:33 pm IST

For three years, if you lived in Mumbai’s western suburbs and needed anything from an Apple Store, you had one option. Drive to Bandra-Kurla Complex (BKC), find parking, spend half your day, and drive back, all for a battery replacement or a pair of AirPods you could have ordered online but wanted to try first.

Now, for enthusiasts who live in the upper reaches of Mumbai, Apple Borivali, nestled inside Sky City Mall, will cut their commute time in half. Opened on February 26, it is now Apple’s second store in Mumbai and the sixth across India, including Apple Saket in Delhi, and stores in Bengaluru, Pune, and Noida

“Since I stay in Kandivali, visiting the Apple BKC store was a trip by itself,” says Dhaivant Shah, a chartered accountant. “Here in the western suburbs, we’d have to stick to Apple authorized resellers or larger electronics chains for our purchases. Having an Apple Store nearby makes it more convenient, as they have the entire product portfolio available, and you can pick up online purchases too.” That matters more than it sounds. Apple Pickup, which lets customers order online and collect in store, turns a retail location into a logistics node. For someone working in Malad or living in Kandivali, being able to grab an online order from Borivali on the way home is a fundamentally different proposition than scheduling a BKC visit around it.

Rohit Menon, a senior engineering manager who works out of Mindspace Business Park in Malad, has felt the friction firsthand. “BKC is easily an hour and a half each way for me on a good day. Borivali is 15 minutes from my office. I’d actually go now, not just when I absolutely have to.”

Beyond the purchase

Apple Borivali
| Photo Credit:
Apple

Apple Stores have always been designed to do more than sell products. The Borivali store follows that template. It has over 70 team members, a Genius Bar for repairs and support, a dedicated Business Team for organisations, and runs daily Today at Apple sessions covering photography, coding, music, and more. The full product lineup is on display, including the iPhone 17 family, iPhone Air, Apple Watch Ultra 3, and the M5-powered Mac and iPad range.

Whether a suburban location can replicate the draw of a flagship like BKC is the obvious next question.

Swati Mukund, an educator, research scholar, and influencer, thinks it has less to do with the address and more with what the store actually offers. “The Borivali store will offer the same quality of support, knowledgeable staff, and Today at Apple programming.”

Rohit’s reasons are closer to home. “I have a MacBook Air, an iPhone, and my brother has an older iPad that’s been needing a battery replacement for months. We keep putting it off because going all the way to BKC can be exhausting. Having a store in Borivali means I can drop in after work, maybe do a trade-in for my brother’s iPad while I’m at it. My parents are also in Kandivali, and they’re always asking me to help with their iPhones. Now I can just tell them to walk into the store themselves.”

And while six stores in three years is progress, whether it is fast enough remains an open debate.

Dhaivant is blunt about it. “For a city the size of Mumbai, having just two stores to serve such a large population is a bit of a downer. Apple certainly needs more stores, preferably in South Bombay, Navi Mumbai, and Thane. Even at the India level, six stores are underwhelming. This should have been 60, or even over 100, by now. The US has more than 250 Apple Stores.”

Swati has a more measured view. “Apple seems to be expanding with intent rather than speed alone. Demand in India, especially in large metros, is growing quickly, and physical stores play an important role in education, trust, and long-term usage. I’m certain a lot more cities are in the pipeline.”

What the store solves

Apple Borivali launch day
| Photo Credit:
Aamir Siddiqui

What Apple Borivali offers, beyond the branding and the curated Mumbai playlists, is something unglamorous but useful. It shortens the distance between a problem and a solution. Cracked screens, sluggish batteries, trade-ins you keep postponing, a parent who needs someone to walk them through their settings. All of it piles up when the nearest store is an hour and a half away.

“It mainly adds convenience without urgency,” Swati says. “It reduces the need to plan every visit far in advance and encourages people to engage more regularly with their devices and the ecosystem.”

Apple Borivali is located at Sky City Mall, Borivali, Mumbai.

Published – February 27, 2026 02:03 pm IST