You're not a customer here. You're a guest.
In the village where Nargis grew up, a guest was treated like a gift from God. You were fed first. You were asked about your family. Nobody rushed you out the door.
We can't pour you a cup of chai through a screen. But we can make you this promise:
Nargis answers herself. Sometimes in English, sometimes with a little Hindi mixed in. Always with care.
When you order, there's a space to tell us about the person receiving it: a new mom, a grieving friend, a teacher who changed your kid's year. We read every one, and we'll pray for them if you'd like us to.
We won't argue with you. We'll make it right. See our policy.
If a candle reminds you of your grandmother's kitchen, or a painting reminds you of a place you had to leave, we want to hear about it. Some of the best parts of this work are the stories people send back.
If you know what it feels like to live between two places, belonging a little to both and fully to neither, you'll find a lot of company here. Our family knows that feeling well. You're not alone in it.