logo
Met Gala 2025: 4 Times Indian Heritage Took Over The World's Biggest Fashion Night

Met Gala 2025: 4 Times Indian Heritage Took Over The World's Biggest Fashion Night

NDTV07-05-2025
Met Gala 2025: This year's Met Gala, with its theme "Superfine: Tailoring Black Style," was about celebrating identity, history, and craft. But while the spotlight was on Black fashion, something else quietly made its way onto the famous steps, something deeply Indian. It showed up in the smallest details: handwoven fabrics, traditional cuts, old-world symbols. Not borrowed. Not reinterpreted. Just carried forward by communities that have been keeping these crafts alive for generations.
This was not just about fashion. It was about culture-alive, rooted, and travelling far beyond its borders. And for anyone who loves exploring the stories behind what we wear, it opened a different kind of travel trail. One that leads straight to India's heritage towns, weaving centres, and local workshops-where every thread has a past, and every stitch has a place.
1. Diljit Dosanjh's Royal Tribute To Patiala
The Moment: Diljit Dosanjh made a statement at the Met Gala 2025, but it wasn't just his fashion that turned heads - it was the heritage it represented. His custom Prabal Gurung ensemble paid homage to the royal attire of Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala, with an achkan, tehmat, and kirpan (ceremonial sword), all embroidered with Punjab's map and sacred Gurmukhi script. This wasn't just a modern look; it was a nod to centuries of Sikh royalty.
Travel Trail: Head to Patiala, where the city's royal history is woven into its textiles. Visit Adalat Bazaar or Sheesh Mahal and discover where traditional Patiala salwars and phulkaris are still handmade by artisans who've been passing down their skills for generations.
2. Kerala's Craftsmanship At The Met: The Red Carpet
The Moment: The Met Gala 2025 saw the red carpet not just as an accessory but as a showcase of Kerala's rich weaving tradition. Crafted in Cherthala, Kerala, this 6,840-square-metre carpet was created by the brand Neytt Homes by Extraweave, showcasing Kerala's centuries-old tradition of hand-weaving with sisal fibre. The blue and gold design added a subtle touch of South Indian artistry to the glamour of the event.
Travel Trail: A trip to Cherthala in Alappuzha district will take you to the heart of Kerala's coir industry. Watch as artisans craft everything from eco-friendly mats to intricate carpets, and learn the slow, meticulous process that has been passed down through generations. This is where tradition meets sustainability, one weave at a time.
3. Natasha Poonawalla's Parsi Heritage In Couture
The Moment: Businesswoman and philanthropist Natasha Poonawalla embraced her Parsi heritage at the 2025 Met Gala, wearing a custom Manish Malhotra creation that paid homage to the Parsi Gara embroidery. The vintage Gara style, once almost lost to time, now shone brightly as part of Poonawalla's statement look, blending Persian influences with Indian traditions.
Travel Trail: To see Gara embroidery up close, head to Surat in Gujarat, where the craft lives on in the hands of dedicated artisans. Alternatively, explore Udvada in Gujarat, a sacred Parsi town where these intricate, Chinese-inspired embroideries still hold significance. If you're in Mumbai, check out old Parsi boutiques on Grant Road for heirloom Gara saris passed down through generations.
4. Isha Ambani's Handwoven Benarasi Masterpiece
The Moment: At the Met Gala 2025, Isha Ambani turned heads with her elegant outfit, a stunning Benarasi train from Anamika Khanna, showcasing Zardozi embroidery - a traditional craft that has been perfected in Varanasi for centuries. The intricate gold and silver threadwork glimmered, reflecting the rich history of Indian craftsmanship and Mughal-era textiles.
Travel Trail: In Varanasi, take a stroll through the winding lanes of Chowk and Madanpura, where you can watch artisans at work, stitching gold and silver threads onto luxurious silks and velvets. To dive deeper into this art, visit the Crafts Museum at Sarnath or plan your trip around festivals like Dev Deepawali, when the streets of Varanasi become a living gallery of Zardozi craftsmanship.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

'Smack That' Singer Akon Announces Mega India Tour- Dates, Cities, And Venues Inside
'Smack That' Singer Akon Announces Mega India Tour- Dates, Cities, And Venues Inside

India.com

time5 minutes ago

  • India.com

'Smack That' Singer Akon Announces Mega India Tour- Dates, Cities, And Venues Inside

New Delhi: Music lovers, get ready to dive into nostalgia as the global hitmaker, Akon, is all set to enthrall the audience in India with his special tour. This November Akon will be seen performing on November 9 in Delhi, November 14 in Bengaluru, and November 16 in about the tour, Akon in a press note said, "India has always shown me so much love -- it's like a second home. The energy, the culture, the fans... it's on another level. I'm beyond excited to be back and perform live for y'all. This tour is gonna be something special -- let's make history together!""Bringing Akon back to India is a celebration. This is the night fans have been waiting for. We promise an extravagant experience that will be remembered for years to come," said Aman Kumar, co-founder of White year, Akon set the stage on fire with his special performance at the pre-wedding festivities of Anant Ambani and Radhika day three of the gala event, Akon also performed his hit track 'Chammak Challo' from the sci-fi action thriller film ' which got superstars Shah Rukh Khan and Salman Khan to shake a leg on the dance to Instagram, Akon shared a video of his performance at the grand event which he captioned, "Best pre wedding party of the year. Got to bring my whole Indian family on stage to perform my biggest record in India. @iamsrk, @beingsalmankhan, @sukhbir_singer, and the bride and groom Anant and Radihka. Unforgettable evening."The video also featured a glimpse of King Khan hugging his daughter Suhana on the stage with his wife Gauri by his side and the 'Dabangg' actor playing the drums.

As Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan's Freakier Friday nears release, here's recap of 2003 cult favourite Freaky Friday
As Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan's Freakier Friday nears release, here's recap of 2003 cult favourite Freaky Friday

Hindustan Times

time5 minutes ago

  • Hindustan Times

As Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan's Freakier Friday nears release, here's recap of 2003 cult favourite Freaky Friday

As the highly anticipated sequel to Disney's 2003 body-swap comedy, Freakier Friday, prepares to hit Indian theatres on August 8, it's time to reminisce about the original. Mark Waters' Freaky Friday, a modern version of a classic Disney film that successfully blended magical elements with slapstick comedy and familial drama, featured cast members Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan at their best. Freaky Friday Classic tale of role reversal Freaky Friday is based on a novel by Mary Rodgers and follows the tumultuous relationship between widowed psychiatrist Dr. Tess Coleman (Jamie Lee Curtis) and her 15-year-old daughter, Anna (Lindsay Lohan). While mourning the loss of her father, Anna, a defiant teenager, feels that her workaholic and apparently strict mother does not understand her. Meanwhile, Tess is getting ready to tie the knot with her fiancé Ryan (Mark Harmon) and is continually irritated by Anna's conduct and lack of self-control. A pair of cursed fortune cookies causes them to mysteriously switch bodies one night at a Chinese restaurant, putting an end to their endless fighting. As the plot unfolds, we witness Tess and Anna put themselves in each other's shoes. Tess must attend high school as Anna, dealing with her bandmates, academic pressures, and bullies. While her mother is busy with work, therapy, interviews, and a wedding rehearsal dinner, Anna is trying to seem grown-up and handle all of her responsibilities. Finding empathy through chaos As a result of these tumultuous events, our protagonists begin to sympathise with one another. While Tess starts to understand the challenges of adolescence, particularly when dealing with loss, Anna recognises the mental and emotional burdens her mother bears. Their journey towards empathy drives the film's emotional arc, and the body swap serves as a narrative device to foster progress. The film did well at the box office and among critics. The performance by Jamie Lee Curtis was nominated for a Golden Globe, and Lohan's turn as both an angsty teen and a mother trapped in a teenager's body was widely appreciated. Harold Gould played Tess' father, and Chad Michael Murray played Jake, Anna's crush. Teen comedy that stood test of time As one of the most memorable teen comedies of the early 2000s, Freaky Friday has garnered a devoted fan following throughout the years. Teenagers and their parents could relate to the touching and amusing depiction of generational miscommunication. Reunited in their legendary roles, Curtis and Lohan return to Freakier Friday over two decades later. The sequel, directed by Nisha Ganatra, will cover a fresh phase of the mother-daughter relationship, with Tess being older and Anna having grown up. The reunion of the original leads has excited fans who grew up with the film, although Disney has kept plot elements mostly under wraps. Where to watch before sequel arrives Now would be a wonderful time to see Freaky Friday again on JioHotstar (OTTplay Premium), since the sequel will be released in India on August 8, 2025.

Why Kathakar Ashok – the quiet flame of Mithila
Why Kathakar Ashok – the quiet flame of Mithila

Indian Express

timean hour ago

  • Indian Express

Why Kathakar Ashok – the quiet flame of Mithila

(Written by Ashutosh Kumar Thakur) He was a name carried on the wind. I first heard the name Kathakar Ashok in 2007. Two remarkable voices in contemporary Maithili literature, Taranand Viyogi and Gaurinath, spoke of him with unmistakable reverence. 'He is one of the most important fiction writers in Maithili today,' they said, almost in chorus, in two different places. Their conviction stayed with me for years, like a quiet whisper you know you must one day answer. That moment came in late November 2012. My brother, Atul K Thakur, and I had just returned from Madhubani and were on our way back to Delhi after Diwali and Chhath celebrations. We stopped in Patna to visit him. The meeting, held in his residence, turned into a marathon night of literary exchange. His younger son, Prabhat Jha, then student of Patna University and now teaches English in a college, joined the conversation. What followed was an intense and wide-ranging discussion on Maithili, Indian, and world literature. It was that night I understood Ashok was not merely a writer. He was a thinker deeply rooted in his language, and even more deeply in his time. As the conversation deepened, Ashok spoke warmly of his dear friend Shivshankar Srinivas, whose brilliance in fiction he holds in the highest regard. He talked about the incisive critical mind of Mohan Bhardwaj, whose seminal contributions to Maithili literary criticism he considers foundational, helping map the shifts in sensibility, narrative form, and aesthetic engagement within Maithili literature. Of Taranand Viyogi, he spoke not just as a poet but as a voice of pluralistic imagination, whose poems, steeped in history and the search for self, carry the pulse of a changing Mithila. Reading Ashok's stories, and listening to him reflect on these literary friendships, feels like stepping into a layered world where memory meets myth, and where the influence of postmodernism and the anxieties of the post-truth world ripple quietly beneath the surface. His fiction is deeply aware of fractured identities, cultural dislocations, and the urgent need to reclaim language as a site of meaning. And yet, his writing never abandons clarity; he embraces complexity without becoming obscure. Since that first meeting, I have had the privilege to read nearly all his published works and conduct a long-form interview with him. Each encounter, each text, has only deepened my belief that Kathakar Ashok is a writer who deserves far greater attention in India's literary mainstream, and beyond. He is not only one of the most important voices in Maithili but also a bridge between traditions and transformations, between the rooted and the restless. Ashok Kumar Jha, born on January 18, 1953, began writing in the sacred and intellectually fertile environment of Kashi. His father, Late Umapati Jha, was the manager of the historic Ram Mandir built by the Maharani of Darbhanga. The temple was not only a spiritual center, but also a cultural nucleus. The Maithil Chhatra Sangh hosted literary events, recitations, and anniversary celebrations of Maithili writers. The young Ashok absorbed it all. His first poem, a tribute to poet Chanda Jha, appeared in Batuk, a children's magazine. But the shift from verse to prose was fraught with uncertainty. His early stories were rejected, even by well-meaning mentors. But rejection, in Ashok's case, was only a redirection. He rewrote. He refined. He returned. In 1969, the poem 'E New Lightak Faishion Thik' was published, and in 1971, Viram San Pahine appeared in Mithila Mihir. The storyteller had arrived. Ashok's literary corpus spans decades, but his storytelling retains a deep moral consistency. His landmark short story collections—Ohi Raatik Bhor (1991), Maatbar (2001), and Daddy Gaam (2017)—were written over nearly five decades. They explore caste, identity, communal tensions, migration, alienation, and hope, always through characters drawn from real places, speaking real language, living real dilemmas. His stories are not sentimental recollections. They are structured acts of conscience. In Derbuk, Mirza Saheb, and Daddy Gaam, he examines the tension between memory and modernity, between inherited identities and chosen ones. These are stories that do not scream. They hold your gaze and do not blink. His characters are often caught between conflicting forces, tradition and transformation, locality and globalisation, belonging and estrangement. Yet, he treats each of them with a profound empathy, never reducing them to sociological types. His stories open slowly, like the turning of soil before sowing seeds, giving space to nuance, contradiction, and self-discovery. What makes his stories endure is their ability to echo far beyond Mithila, into the moral ecosystem of anyone who has ever wrestled with identity, dignity, or the quiet ache of displacement. Kathakar Ashok's writing process defies formula. Stories take months, sometimes years, to form in his mind. 'I write only when it becomes necessary,' he says. His work is not an act of production; it is an act of purification. Often, the story finds him, not the other way around. His use of magic realism, like in Kotha and Sanesh, is not borrowed, but indigenous. Ministers with serpentine tongues, caste leaders with dismembered limbs—these are metaphors shaped by Mithila's folk traditions and the disturbing realism of contemporary India. His narratives carry not only literary weight but political urgency. While reading him, I often find myself drawing comparisons, not to reduce his work, but to place it within a broader lineage of literary excellence. There are shades of Gabriel García Márquez in how he merges the mythical with the everyday, creating a reality richer than reality itself. Like Milan Kundera, his stories interrogate history, memory, and identity with a quiet philosophical force. And in the Hindi world, his lyrical restraint and tender surrealism often remind me of Vinod Kumar Shukla. Yet, Ashok stands apart. His metaphors are born from the lived textures of Mithila—its rituals, its fractures, its silences. He writes not to imitate any tradition, but to extend his own. And in doing so, he invites us to witness a world that is at once intensely local and profoundly universal. Ashok's contribution to Maithili letters is not confined to short stories. His critical essays (Maithil Aankhi, Katha Path) and the study Kathak Upanyas: Upanyasak Katha offer some of the most rigorous readings of Maithili literature to date. Kathak Upanyas charts the early decades of Maithili fiction, capturing its social reformist bent and its silent revolutions—from widowhood to women's education, from caste rigidity to individual freedom. His literary essays are not just reflections, they are frameworks, setting the foundation for future scholarship. Ashok's work as an editor (Samvaad, Pratiman, Sandhaan) and as convener of the Maithili Literature Festival in Patna (2014, 2016) shows his enduring commitment to community-building through literature. His column Thain Pathain, later compiled as Neek Dinak Bioscope, remains a beloved commentary on Maithili life, at once personal and political. There is a heart-wrenching truth at the centre of Kathakar Ashok's literary life. He has yet to receive the Sahitya Akademi Award. I say this with both disbelief and disappointment. It is an omission not just startling in its oversight, but symptomatic of a larger apathy toward significant regional voices that have quietly transformed Indian literature from the ground up. Ashok's body of work in Maithili fiction spans decades, themes, and generations. That he has not been recognized by the country's highest literary body is not merely a personal slight—it is a missed opportunity for the Akademi to honour a voice that has persistently stood for literary depth, social realism, and cultural rootedness. In a post-Geetanjali Shree, Perumal Murugan, and Banu Mushtaq world, the translation of Indian regional literature into English and other global languages is no longer a literary aspiration—it is an urgent cultural imperative. As Indian writing steps confidently onto the world stage, languages like Maithili, with their deep-rooted and centuries-old literary traditions, must not remain in the margins. Ashok's works, particularly Daddy Gaam, Ohi Raatik Bhor, and Maatbar, must be translated. Not only because they are exemplary works of fiction, but because they hold the pulse of a people and a place. Within them resonate the lyricism of Vidyapati, the rebellion of Nagarjun, and the quiet, enduring stillness of a land often forgotten in national narratives. Kathakar Ashok is acutely aware of the representational imbalance in Maithili literature. He acknowledges in his literary criticism works the growth in women's writing, with figures like Lily Ray, Usha Kiran Khan, Nirja Renu, and Vibha Rani making substantial contributions, but laments the underrepresentation of Dalit and minority voices. Writers such as Taranand Viyogi, Mahendra Narayan Ram, and Mukhtar Aalam are breaking ground, as are voices from backward castes and the Maithili-speaking community in Nepal. But the road ahead remains long. Literature, as Ashok sees it, must represent all of Mithila—not just its upper-caste memory. Contemporary Maithili literature, Ashok believes, is finally beginning to engage meaningfully with themes like feminism, subaltern identity, urban decay, and ecological anxiety. Novels such as Allah ho Ram, Kalash-Yatra, and O Je Kahiyo Gaam Chhal mark a welcome shift. But the literature still struggles to breach its geographic confines and find a sustained presence in the national literary discourse. The digital age brings paradoxes. Access has grown, but attention spans have withered. Young writers are emerging, yet the publishing landscape remains fragmented and fragile. 'Maithili literature is still surviving because of the hunger of its writers,' Ashok says, with both pride and concern. What it needs now is not just talent, but a sustainable literary ecosystem—committed publishers, visionary translators, meticulous editors, and a wider circle of engaged, curious readers. And then comes the question I have often asked him: When will you write a novel? He smiles. 'There is pressure from friends and readers. I think I must try next year.' That novel, whenever it arrives, will not just be a literary event. It will be a culmination of a life spent walking alongside the truth, writing not for fame but for faith. To read Kathakar Ashok is to encounter a voice that does not shout, but it stays. A voice that believes in the dignity of the ordinary, the mystery of character, and the weight of silence. His stories are not only literature, but they are also documents of cultural memory, chronicles of the heartland, testimony of resistance. And they must travel beyond Mithila. As Namwar Singh once said, 'The survival of Indian literature depends on the dialogue among Indian languages.' Ashok's work reminds us why that dialogue must be nurtured—because in it lies the plural imagination of our future. Because when India's many languages begin to speak to one another, not just in theory, but through translation, then perhaps we will finally hear the full music of our republic. Until then, we listen closely. Because Kathakar Ashok is still writing. (Ashutosh Kumar Thakur is a bilingual writer, literary critic, and curator based in Bangalore. He is a keen observer of South Asian literature and a lifelong student of Mithila's cultural memory. He can be reached at ashutoshthakur@

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store