Chapter 1: Why starting KUMU mattered

This is the first entry in a new space where we'll write about craft, heritage, the people and traditions behind everything we make. We're starting here — with the story of why KUMU exists at

Starting KUMU — and naming it what I did — mattered to me for many reasons. KUMU is inspired by my mother's name - Kumkum. It is a name that means color, warmth and everything that is auspicious in the Indian culture.

My early years away from India

I grew up in India and have lived abroad for many years now. I'm fortunate to return often, to see my family and stay connected to my culture. In the beginning, that pull back to home was due to homesickness — a need for familiarity, when everything else, from grocery shopping to work to friendships, felt new.

However, when my daughters were born, that pull evolved. It became about them — about keeping them close to their grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and the extended web of family and friends that shaped my own childhood.

But as time passed, as my girls grew older (and so did I), I began to realize that my children were essentially tourists in the country I was born in. They would visit, enjoy the food, shop, have fun — and then leave. While that is the nature of most vacations, I wanted their ties to extend beyond family and to the country itself.

Questions started forming: how could I make these connections more meaningful? How could I show them the many layers of this vibrant, complex, and beautiful land that shaped me? How could I make them understand the richness of its culture, the depth of its heritage, and the extraordinary craftsmanship that exists within it?

Because only when they understand that, will they begin to choose handmade over mass-produced. Only then will these traditions continue to survive. Only then will something like the pashmina shawl collection my mother has spent years curating not be dismissed as "old-fashioned," but instead be seen for what it truly is — a legacy.

So I began, in small ways.

I showed them the art of block printing — the rhythm and precision of it, the quiet discipline it requires. I introduced them to the intricacy of hand-embroidered stoles, the beauty of handloom weaving, the craftsmanship behind the jootis (Indian handmade footwear) they love to wear.

I wanted them to see the patience each craft demands, the generations of skill passed down like inheritance, like DNA — to appreciate the lives and aspirations of the millions of people these crafts have supported, and the thousands of years of practice that have gone into mastering each one.

And then, one day, when my 11-year-old daughter told me she wanted block-printed bandanas for her entire class for her birthday, I knew things were shifting and I was getting through...

This is, in many ways, one mother's small but intentional effort — to keep my children rooted in my culture long after I am gone and, in my own small way, help keep these centuries-old crafts alive. Just like my own mother did.

And that is where KUMU began.