Wrapped in Memories: My Sambalpuri Story

As a little girl, I remember watching my grandmom drape her Sambalpuri sarees with the kind of grace that only time can teach. Each day, a different weave—Pasapalli, Bomkai, Bichitrapuri—unfolded like a story from her wardrobe. I would sit beside her mirror, wide-eyed, waiting for her to hand me the leftover anchal to play with.

I would wrap it around myself, sometimes as a saree, sometimes like a cape, not knowing the names or origins—but knowing one thing for sure: it felt like home.

Back then, it wasn’t about fashion. It was about comfort, familiarity, and the warmth of her presence. That soft rustle of the weave, the smell of her sandalwood powder, and the sound of her bangles—all became a part of my childhood tapestry.

As I grew older, it was my mother who explained what I had unknowingly fallen in love with. She told me about the weavers in Odisha, the art of Bandha where the design is dyed into the thread itself, and how no two Sambalpuri sarees are ever truly alike. She spoke of how these weaves are passed down, not just in wardrobes, but in emotions, rituals, and memories.

Today, when I drape a Sambalpuri saree, I don’t just wear fabric—I wear my roots, my legacy, and a bond that stretches across generations.

This is why I built this platform—not just to sell sarees, but to share stories like mine, and maybe even help you begin your own.

Because a Sambalpuri saree isn’t just worn. It’s lived.