Field Notes · No. 002
Shantiniketan
Kantha is a hand embroidery tradition from Bengal that turns worn saris and dhotis into layered cloth through thousands of tiny running stitches. Before Hindostan Archive existed, two design students travelled to Shantiniketan in Birbhum, West Bengal, to find it. They came back with a first collaborator.
Part One
The journey that started it all
Looking back now, I think our journey with Kantha embroidery began long before Hindostan Archive existed. Back then it wasn't even about building a fashion brand. It was simply curiosity.
While studying Fashion Design at NIFT Delhi, Shaoni and I found ourselves constantly reading about India's craft traditions. One place that kept appearing in our conversations was Shantiniketan, a small town in the Birbhum district of West Bengal.
At first it wasn't Kantha that attracted us. It was the place itself.
Shantiniketan
Where creativity is everyday life
The more we read about Shantiniketan, the more fascinating it became. Rabindranath Tagore had founded Visva-Bharati University there with the belief that education shouldn't remain confined within four walls. Art, literature, music, craft and nature were all meant to exist together. That philosophy shaped the town, and even years later people still spoke about Shantiniketan as more than just a university. It had become a cultural movement.
During our first summer vacation at NIFT, while most of our friends were planning holidays or internships, we planned a different kind of trip. We booked our tickets to Kolkata and travelled by road to Shantiniketan. The closer we got, the quieter everything became.
My first impression of Shantiniketan was that creativity had become part of everyday life. Everywhere we looked, someone was making something: painting, weaving, stitching, carving or playing music.
The Craft
What Kantha embroidery is
We had also travelled because of Kantha. Before visiting, I knew its history as an embroidery tradition of Bengal that transformed worn-out saris and dhotis into layered quilts through thousands of tiny running stitches. The philosophy reminded me of Japanese Sashiko and Boro.
When Shaoni and I first started discussing Hindostan Archive, we knew we couldn't begin with every craft we admired. Kantha felt like the right place to begin because it reflected everything we wanted the brand to stand for.
The next morning we visited a women's cooperative near Shantiniketan. Around the Rabindranath Tagore museum area we met several Kantha artisans, and one name kept coming up: Vandana. We decided to find her.
Part Two
Meeting Vandana
A home, not a workshop
Finding Vandana wasn't as simple as searching for a workshop on Google Maps. After asking a few people for directions, we eventually reached her home. It wasn't a showroom or a factory. It was a family home where Kantha had been practised for generations. Quilts, appliqué work and embroidered panels filled the rooms while different members of the family quietly worked on their own pieces.
A National Award winning artisan
Vandana had been practising Kantha since she was nine years old, after learning from her parents. By the time we met her, she had become a National Award winning artisan. What struck me most was the way she spoke about embroidery. It never sounded like work. It sounded like something she genuinely loved.
The Work
Stitches, layouts and fabrics
We showed her our sketchbooks and the first ideas we had for Hindostan Archive. Looking back, those designs were incredibly simple, but she listened carefully, asked thoughtful questions and agreed to collaborate with us.
During our visit we also learnt that she was creating garments for the deities at the ISKCON temple in Vrindavan. Over the following days we explored stitches, layouts and fabrics together, trying to understand how Kantha embroidery could become part of contemporary clothing while remaining completely hand embroidered.
By the time we left Shantiniketan, we knew we hadn't simply found an artisan. We had found our first collaborator.
Part Three
Looking back
One of the biggest challenges during those early years had nothing to do with embroidery. At the time, Vandana didn't have a smartphone or WhatsApp, so communicating between Delhi and Shantiniketan wasn't easy. For a long time Shaoni's father, who was based in Kolkata, became the bridge between us, helping us exchange messages until we slowly found better ways of staying connected.
Today, more than four years later, we're still working together. The collections have changed and our designs have evolved, but the relationship has remained the same. Every piece of Kantha still begins with conversations, sketches and the hands of artisans who have spent their lives preserving this craft.
When people ask where Hindostan Archive began, I don't immediately think about our first website or our first collection. I think about a small village near Shantiniketan, about meeting Vandana, and about two design students carrying sketchbooks while hoping someone would believe in their ideas. She did, and looking back now, I think that's where Hindostan Archive really began.
Field Notes No. 002, recorded in Shantiniketan, Birbhum, West Bengal. Words and photographs by Sahil Meenia, with Kantha artisan Vandana.
