There was a time when I would have simply called this green.

Today, I cannot.

One of the unexpected gifts of this Friday Kanchi journey has been learning to see colours more closely. Not just green, but the many greens that exist within our Kanchivarams—each carrying its own mood, memory, and inspiration.

Interestingly, I was never particularly drawn to green. My appreciation for it began only after I inherited several sarees from my mother-in-law. As I unfolded them one by one, I noticed how many shades of green she had collected over the years. Whether she consciously saw the subtle distinctions between them or simply loved the colour, I may never know.

But through her collection, I learned to look differently.

Manthulir Pachai was one of those discoveries.

Inspired by the tender green of new mango shoots, it captures a fleeting moment in nature—a colour that exists only briefly before the leaves mature. What fascinates me is how silk can recreate something so seasonal and alive through the interplay of threads, light, and movement.

This week’s saree carries that beautiful Manthulir shade, with quiet Muthu Kattam running through the body.

Yet when I wear it, I find myself thinking less about the checks and more about how our eyes change over time.

Sometimes we do not discover a colour.

Sometimes a colour waits patiently until we are ready to see it.

Before I close—

The next time you bring home a saree, sit with it for a while before folding it away.

Unfold it. Observe it. Notice what draws your eye.

Every saree has something to reveal to those willing to spend time with it.

Cherish that discovery.

One day, the saree may be passed on, and perhaps the stories you found along the way will travel with it.

Until the next letter,

Love,
Vidhya Raghunathan