18.05.2025

When I launched Waraq, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the first few days. I had the site live, the collection ready, and the usual tangle of tasks and thoughts that come with a new beginning.

Then came the first order. ₹12,000.

From my sister.

She placed it without a word. Just picked what she liked and checked out. No fanfare, no conversation.

I only noticed it later — the name, the amount, the quiet clarity of it.

There was something grounding about that moment. Like a thread had been tied — not on my wrist, but through the fabric of what I was trying to build.

That first order didn’t feel like a sale. It felt like something quietly locking into place.

Some Rakshabandhans come with rituals.

This one arrived folded inside a scarf.

P.S. Some gifts don’t need occasions. But if you’re looking, Rakshabandhan is a good place to begin.

Somewhere between fabric and feeling, - Isha Chitlangia

07.05.2025

Last night after dinner, my husband suggested we go for a walk. I reached for the scarf I usually grab before stepping out and we headed off together. The air had softened. One of those rare evenings where summer forgets to be sharp, and there’s a breeze you didn’t expect but are grateful for :)

We left our boxer, Gigi, sleeping on the couch. She’s five now, full of spirit, and completely convinced that my scarf exists solely for her amusement. Grabs one end, pulls, runs - there’s really no reasoning with her on this.

Somewhere along our walk, a stray began to follow us. Young, lean, soft-eyed. No fuss, no asking - just quietly keeping pace, as though this was always meant to be his route too. The guard at the gate tried waving him off once or twice, but each time he waited, patient, then caught up again —-tail wagging, happy just to be there. It was such a sweet, funny moment. The kind that lingers a little longer in your head than you expect.

As we turned toward home, I found myself thinking of Gigi - how she never lets my scarf stay where it’s meant to. How it’s always halfway between being worn and being tugged away by her. It made me smile. And miss her, all at once.

When we reached back, there she was - waiting at the door. Or maybe just waiting for the scarf I had taken along!!

It’s strange how a scarf can hold on to more than just the breeze. Sometimes, it brings back what you didn’t even know had slipped away.

Somewhere between fabric and feeling, - Isha Chitlangia

01.05.2025

So here's what I think...

Some days, everything flows. The coffee is just right, emails are answered on time, and there’s even a quiet moment to breathe. On those days, I fold my scarf neatly, tucking it back into the wardrobe where it belongs.

Other days, life moves in a blur. Just as I sit down to focus, a notification flashes. A call comes in, a half-written message waits to be sent, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I notice my scarf—still draped over the sofa from last evening.

I make a mental note to put it back. But then life happens.

Meetings stretch longer than expected. A text pulls me into another conversation. Dinner plans shift. Suddenly I have to take the dog for a walk. The scarf stays there, untouched. But I keep noticing it, like an undone thought lingering at the back of my mind.

And maybe that’s the thing—some things stay unfinished, some days don’t go as planned, and some moments demand grace over perfection.

So when I finally pick up that scarf, I don’t fold it right away. Instead, I wrap it around my shoulders, letting it sit there for a second longer. A reminder that even in the messiness of life, small comforts exist.

Some days, the scarf stays on the sofa. And maybe, that’s okay.

Somewhere between fabric and feeling, - Isha Chitlangia