A Shop That Is More Than A House: Inside Kalaa, Vizag

At dinner that night, Anirudh Kankatala produced a photograph of a shop that no longer exists. It opened in 1965 in the old town of Vizag and stayed until 1998 or 1999. The family lived behind it. "My oldest memory is of growing up inside the store," he told me later. "I remember entering from the back door when the store shut at 8 o'clock."

That boyhood explains a good deal about Kalaa, the family's new store in Visakhapatnam. It opened this year on Governors Bungalow Road in Siripuram, spread over 7,100 sq ft across two floors. The Kankatalas have been selling sarees since 1943, and Anirudh is the third generation.

Off The Main Street

The site is not where you would expect a saree flagship to be. The landlord had his own house here, which he demolished to build a commercial property. It is a residential area, a step away from the shopping streets.

"We wanted people to come and discover Kalaa," Anirudh said, "not have it on the main shopping street with the hustle and bustle."

A Courtyard, Then Another

Anirudh describes the walk in as a journey back to "a grandmother's house, or an old house in Andhra." You cross a stone courtyard with a Nandi and a tulasi, then step onto brick-inspired clay flooring. Next comes the courtyard of Kanchipurams, with blue pillars and a hand-painted roof of temples inspired by Simhachalam. Beyond it are two Banarasi counters, the store's version of gaddi seating.

"Sometimes when I enter the store, I almost feel like I am entering a place I created, which is also like a house to me," he said. The Nandis are entirely handcrafted, the door is teak, and the whole thing took about a year. "It is something we poured our soul and heart into."

Devika Narain, who designed the space, did not want it to be a showpiece. "Overall, the intent is to create many spaces of intrigue," she said, "defined more by curiosity than grandeur." Nothing is repeated, from the shelves to the rooms. Having walked through it, I can say nothing pounces on you. It is easy and unhurried, and you find things rather than being shown them.

The Blue

Anyone who has heard Devika speak about Kalaa will know about the blue. It comes from the Narasimha Swamy temple at Simhachalam, where people travel from across India and Andhra for darshan. The gopuram, its base and the doors are all blue.

"Most interior projects begin with materials, form and function," Devika said. "This one began with colour." She had never seen a temple so blue, and it was not the indigo of Rajasthan. "It is a vibrant blue." One of the first things they designed was the blue staircase, and the colour then travelled to the pillars and the facade.

Anirudh is clear that the blue belongs to Kalaa alone, not to the Kankatala brand. The ocean, he said, is a secondary meaning. "The reason the blue came about is the blue doors and the blue base of the Simhachalam temple."

I did not make it to the temple myself. I am not a morning person, and I confessed as much to Devika. She was kind about it. "It is one of the most serene temples I've ever been to."

Nobody Asks Your Budget

The brief Anirudh gave Devika and her team was simple. "It shouldn't be a transaction." He wanted people to slow down. That reaches down to the drink, a family recipe for Nannari, and to how the staff speak to you.

Anirudh threw out the usual opening question. In a saree shop, he said, price ranges are enormous: at Kalaa things go from Rs 10,000 to Rs 5 lakh. His staff worried. "Sir, how can we do that? Won't the customer be offended?" He asked them how often a client walks in with Rs 50,000 in mind and leaves with a Rs 20,000 saree they love, or the other way round. "Price doesn't really matter. You need to help them find something they like."

So the question is now: what occasion are you buying for?

The Women Of The House

Devika's team began, she said, the way they begin a wedding, with the guest experience. They studied how people behave in shops, then spent time with the family, especially the women.

When the team first reached Vizag, the family invited them home for lunch. "The women were cooking but all the men were serving," she recalled. "It is clear the women are the muses of the brand." She found that alien as a North Indian. "Our legacies are passed down the patriarchal line, but here was a family who had embraced their women so beautifully."

Small rituals from that household have moved into the store. Fresh flowers are brought in. Everyone who walks in gets a little gajra. Somebody makes a kolam outside. "We wanted them to be available for people to experience the life and world they were buying from."

The warmth also shaped the practical details. Chairs are comfortable, because "nobody comes shopping alone for big occasions". A whole family should be able to fit in a space. Devika even asked whether a grandmother could go into the changing room to see how a saree looks. The sofa bench in the lift is her favourite touch. "Why should someone be standing in a lift?"

Made To Age

Kalaa is one of the first permanent spaces Devika's studio has done. They usually create celebrations meant to last a day or a season. "Honestly, I am very curious to see how my work ages, because I have never seen it age."

She wants the store to stay relevant. Interiors, in her view, "should not be trend-inspired. They should be classic."

When I asked what she hoped a visitor would carry out of the door, the answer was short. "I want them to feel welcome. I want them to feel warm. And I want them to know that should they take something away, it is a piece of art."