There was a bookstore in Pune that doesn't exist anymore, except in memory. It belonged to Karishma Shahani Khan's grandfather, a man who wore only khadi and ran his shop as a meeting point for conversations about India's freedom struggle, long before independence came. His wife wore nothing but handwoven saris. His sister-in-law spoke often about cross-stitch and old textile traditions, the way other families talk about the weather. None of it felt remarkable to a young Shahani at the time. It was just home. "I wish I'd realised it sooner," she says now. "We've lost too many people from that generation, and I don't think we took the time to really learn from them while we could."
It feels like a fitting moment to look at Ka-Sha, a label that embodies what it means to celebrate India through craft. Founded on the belief that craft is never merely decoration, Ka-Sha brings indigenous techniques into a conversation that feels distinctly of its time. It's lived in. It's in the DNA, as Shahani puts it.
“At Ka-Sha, clothing is a medium for expressing and celebrating handcraft, life and the world around us. People, stories, journeys and perspectives sit at the heart of the brand’s inspiration, with each piece thoughtfully made using indigenous textiles and artisanal techniques through conscious production systems." Rooted in India’s rich textile traditions, Ka-Sha works with natural fabrics and handlooms, from lightweight cotton and kora kapda (plain, unbleached cloth) to Chanderi, muslin, organza and Kala cotton. The result is a clothing line rooted in Indian, idigenous and innovatinve.
It's a philosophy that has quietly powered the label for close to fifteen years now and one that begins with a return to the homeland.
Shahani left for the London College of Fashion chasing an education abroad, half-expecting a straightforward script to follow. What she realised was that "my time in London really pushed me to start valuing where I came from." That realisation became her graduate collection, Yatra, meaning journey, inspired by temples, flowers, communities and craft.
She came back in 2010. Two years of freelance work, self-stitched orders and one travelling tailor followed, before Ka-Sha properly began in 2012, when she decided to plant her roots in Pune. It wasn't the obvious choice. "Pune wasn't exactly the best of art hubs," she says frankly. "We had to manage a lot of things in the beginning." That same year, newly married and settled, she showed at Lakmé Fashion Week for the first time. "That's where it started from."
But what actually convinced her wasn't a runway. It was Kutch. As a student, she spent her summers in craft clusters instead of chasing fashion internships abroad, which baffled her father to no end. But living inside those artisan communities taught her something no classroom could. "Those experiences taught me how to actually deal with people, how to accept things as they are." Craft, she realised, was never just about textile. It was an entire ecosystem, a whole chain of people and relationships. That idea still sits at the centre of everything Ka-Sha makes.
What excites Shahani most today is watching that same ecosystem evolve on its own terms, with artisans' children returning to the family trade, often because of their education, not in spite of it. "Half the craftspeople I work with travel more than I do," she laughs. A new Indian visual language is emerging, she believes, one that doesn't look to the West for permission. "We're not just producers anymore, helping someone else make their vision. We're the creators now."
She's also watched the Indian consumer change since the pandemic, not entirely, but enough to notice. Circularity, fair wages, good material, none of that comes cheap, and more people today understand why. Still, she's wary of wearing sustainability as a label. "You won't find the word 'sustainable' anywhere on our website," she says. "I'll say we work in circularity, because that's honest, that's a whole system we're building."
The circularity about which Shahani talks has its own name at Ka-Sha: Heart To Haat, the label's sister initiative. "Ka-Sha itself isn't a hundred percent upcycled," she clarifies. "There's new material in there too, because we're also talking about design and craft and the story behind the making." Heart To Haat is different. Everything in it, barring maybe the zip, is upcycled, right down to the thread. Here, even the smallest scraps get turned into cords, tassels, buttons, or pulped down into paper.
Shahani is just as honest about her own early mistakes as she is about her passion. "If I started the brand again, I wouldn't jump between so many crafts and techniques all at once. I think I was just excited by the attention." In the same breath, her advice for any young, craft-first label just starting out is simple: "Rome wasn't built in a day. Start where you are, you can't keep waiting around. Figure out what works, try things, and through all of it, keep your values intact. Don't exploit anyone. No plagiarism, none of that."
Does she have a name for her personal style? She laughs before answering, “A uniform.” The same easy, well-loved pieces, styled with jewellery she can't live without, worn with sneakers or boots because comfort comes first. Functionality above all, with one small detail that tips it into something distinct. It's the same philosophy that runs through every Ka-Sha garment.
Ask her how a collection comes together, and she describes something closer to a diary entry than a mood board. Her first was Yatra, journey. Motherhood brought Navya: "When I had my son, I started seeing things very differently." The current one is Urja, energy, an exploration of constant transformation.
Fittingly, Ka-Sha's next chapter is leaning into celebration in the most literal sense. "We're moving into more festive clothing now," she says. "Just clothes for celebration." After fifteen years spent building a language around craft and responsibility, it feels like the right next line, a label that has spent over a decade helping India celebrate itself, now dressing India for the party.
Somewhere, you'd like to think, a grandfather in khadi is smiling.