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“She’s becoming her mother.”
It starts quietly. Perhaps when she instinctively folds a cotton saree the same way. Or when she catches herself repeating a phrase her mother often said, or reaching for the same handwoven weave on a morning that feels special.
In the Ganguly household, this quiet mirroring is more than a coincidence, it’s heritage in motion. This Mother’s Day, we unfold a story that is not just about sarees, but about the beautiful way in which women pass down grace, resilience, and identity- one generation to the next.
This Mother’s Day, we celebrate more than just mothers. We celebrate the women who came before us and the women we’re raising. The hands that taught us how to tuck a pleat also taught us how to stand tall. This is a story of sarees, yes—but also of love, resilience, and the unspoken inheritance passed from one generation to the next.
Kaveri Ganguly: The Matriarch Who Draped Determination
Born and raised in Bengal, Kaveri Ganguly embodies the kind of womanhood built on strength and simplicity. In the 1970s, she would don a crisp Dhakai or Jamdani saree in minutes and board a crowded bus to work, unbothered by the bustle around her. To her, a saree was never impractical—it was empowering.
Her wardrobe changed with the seasons: soft cottons in summer, warm Tussars in winter, and Banarasis, Tanchois, and Kanjivarams for weddings and Pujo. Kaveri believed a saree wasn’t meant to sit inside glass shelves; it was meant to be lived in. It was the fabric of everyday elegance, a thread that connected her to her roots, and a way to carry culture with dignity.
Her daughter, Paloma, watched all this closely—not just the way her mother wore her sarees, but also how she wore her values: with ease, pride, and quiet confidence.
Paloma Ganguly: A Modern Woman, Draped in Memory
Paloma Ganguly is a journalist, a mother, and the kind of woman who believes a saree transforms an ordinary day into something meaningful. To her, a saree is deeply personal. It’s what she wears for lunch dates, meetings, even a round of golf—never as a statement, but as a celebration of herself.
She treasures sarees passed down by her mother and grandmothers—each drape carrying a story, a fragrance, a laugh from another time. “It’s my way of staying close to the women who shaped me,” she says. “Each saree feels like a hug from someone who loved me before I even knew how to love myself.”
Paloma sees the saree as feminine power. She styles it with bold blouses on some days, and none at all on others. But always with intention. Her love for handloom sarees was sparked by nostalgia and sustained by passion. And in teaching her daughter to love the saree—not just for its beauty but for its meaning—she, too, passed on a legacy.
Teesta Guhaganguly: Draping Identity, One Pleat at a Time
This year, Teesta graduated from Lady Shri Ram College, but her education in elegance started much earlier. Raised by a mother who saw sarees as second skin, and a grandmother who made them look effortless, Teesta grew up watching how the women in her life used sarees to express, belong, and remember.
To her, a saree is not just six yards of fabric. It’s “maa ki saree.” Something to reach for on college presentation days, farewell functions, or moments of self-celebration. She drapes it not to impress, but to feel anchored. “Wearing a saree makes me feel connected to generations of women who made me who I am,” she says.
Even her styling choices reflect this intergenerational learning—mixing old weaves with modern cuts, pairing tradition with experimentation, all while honouring the women whose wardrobes she inherited and admired.
The Unseen Thread
Three women. Three distinct lives. One shared soul.
In the Ganguly family, sarees are not merely garments—they are emotional heirlooms. They carry the scent of old books and Chandan, the rustle of early mornings and quiet resilience. They are symbols of celebration and comfort, of identity and evolution.
This Mother’s Day, we celebrate not just mothers, but the continuum of womanhood. The way a mother teaches a daughter not just how to tie a pleat, but how to hold her head high. The way love, style, and values pass silently from one generation to the next—sometimes through conversation, sometimes through cotton threads and silk borders.
In becoming her mother, a daughter doesn't lose herself. She simply grows into a fuller version—woven with love, grace, and all the wisdom that came before her.
Author : Pallavi Rohatgi Gupta
