I was six when our mother, Usha Khanna, started Samovar; and with an elder sister who was 11 and a younger brother who was four, I guess Samovar became my fourth sibling.

each day, our mother would take the bus from the sandy lane that led to the Juhu Beach and ride it to its last stop at the Santacruz depot, from where she would catch a fast train to Churchgate and then upon alighting, would stride purposefully in her hand-block print cotton sari, her hair in a long plait, swinging her Shilpi Kendra jhola, through Mumbai’s wide roads and Art Deco precincts to the Jahangir Art Gallery.