Dear Friend,
It is half past four in the morning.
Somewhere in the neighbourhood, a kettle has been put on. The sound of a pestle against stone drifts through the window, cardamom, probably ginger. The peacocks have not yet called. The sky is still completely dark.
And already, Rajasthan is awake.
People often ask what keeps drawing us to Rajasthan. The question always makes us smile because the answer has changed over time.
When we first came here, we were captivated by the architecture, the craftsmanship and the landscapes. Like many visitors, we wanted to explore the forts, wander through old cities and better understand the traditions that make this region so distinctive.
Today, the answer is different. Rajasthan is no longer simply a place we visit. It is where we live. It is where Charpai Life took shape. It is where many of the people who continue to inspire our work have become part of our everyday lives.
Living somewhere changes the way you see it.
The places that become familiar are not always the ones in guidebooks. They are the corner where you stop for chai on the way home. The workshop you visit every few weeks. The local market where familiar faces begin to recognise you.
After a while, the fruit seller no longer asks where you are from. He simply smiles, asks how you have been, and reaches for the mangoes he knows you like. A shopkeeper notices when you have been away for a few days. The roads become familiar enough that you notice when a new tea stall appears or an old workshop quietly moves across the street.
One afternoon, not long after we had settled in Rajasthan, I arrived at a workshop expecting to stay for no more than half an hour. There were a few practical questions to discuss before heading to another appointment.
Instead, I met Ankit.
Tea was served. One conversation led to another. Family photographs appeared. Stories moved from craftsmanship to local history, from local history to family memories, and eventually to the ordinary details of everyday life.
By the time I left, most of the afternoon had disappeared. Years later, Ankit is still a friend.
Looking back, that afternoon says more about Rajasthan than anything we could have planned. Some of the relationships we value most today began in much the same way, not through careful planning, but through simple conversations and a willingness to stay a little longer than expected.
Over the years, living in Rajasthan has reshaped the way we approach our work. We still admire its forts, palaces and remarkable architecture. They deserve their reputation and remain an important part of the region's identity.
But what continues to interest us most is everyday life. The dogs sleeping peacefully outside neighbourhood shops during the afternoon heat. The monkeys racing across rooftops before disappearing into the trees. The familiar greetings exchanged with people we now see almost every day.
These moments are ordinary. Yet they are the moments that quietly turn a place into home.
Of course, Rajasthan is changing. Cities are growing. New businesses are opening. Younger generations are creating opportunities that did not exist a generation ago.
Yet alongside that change, many traditions continue to evolve rather than disappear. Family workshops remain active. Skills continue to pass from one generation to the next. Objects are repaired instead of discarded. Conversations are rarely rushed.
These are not things you notice during a short visit. They reveal themselves slowly, through everyday life.
Over the years, Rajasthan has changed the way we work as much as it has changed the way we see. It has taught us that understanding a craft begins with understanding the people behind it, and that the strongest collaborations are built gradually through conversation, trust and shared experience.
When we think about Rajasthan today, we rarely think first about landmarks. We think about people. The artisan who introduced us to another artisan. The workshop that now feels familiar. The neighbour who waves as we walk past.
These places would mean very little to most travellers. To us, they have become part of home.
This is not a guide. It is simply a letter, written from the place we are fortunate enough to call home. A note of gratitude for the people who have welcomed us into their workshops, their homes and, over the years, their lives.
Because after living here, we have come to realise that Rajasthan is defined by much more than its architecture or its landscapes. It is shaped by the people who continue to build, repair, create, teach and share.
Those are the stories that stay with us. Those are the stories we hope to share.
Tomorrow morning, before sunrise, the sound of cardamom being ground will drift through our window once again. The peacocks will call. Rajasthan will quietly begin another day. And, as always, we'll be grateful to call it home.
Until next time, Charpai Life
Charpai Life