It was on this rushed evening on a bright yellow sunny day that I stumbled upon Shilpi Yadhav’s Kharakapas brand of clothing.

I followed the brand online & thought this will surely grow. They had their colour and style quotient right. Every clothing had Shilpi’s touch and minimalist detailing.

This summer as I was visiting Delhi and among the to-do list in my city of birth. I never miss the red velvet cake at Elma’s Bakery with an espresso. I nourished my soul with cake and coffee. As I was walking around, I found the brick mortar Kharakapas store.

I walked into the well lit, aesthetically done up the store with sizes that need some amount of looking into. But the sensibilities were intact. I wished they had more sizing options suited to women ravaged by time and body changes.

I checked the collection and I found this yellow mustard dress with a delicate lace lining, small polka dots, fastened at the waist with a belt.

I took it into the trial room and with trepidation tried it on. It felt like it had been fitted to my size. The chest was a tad bit tight but manageable. The belt hung loosely on the side, the knot tied like a reiteration of surely it’s quite right this time.

Just the pleasure of finding myself in that mustard cotton dress was my moment alone.

They say vanity is not good. I beg to differ. To love yourself and bask in that pleasure of finding your reflection stare back at you, is self-love too. And there is no greater love than self-love.

The mustard fields, the yellow sun, the daffodils, and the sunflower are all a representation of happiness. Coldplay has a song called “Yellow” that plays on a loop in my head just now.

As the wind blows the mustard flowers in the gust of its force, I blow kisses to the muse in me. I am at my best just now, the years have rolled by failure, loss, birth, and death I have seen closely and wept and celebrated life. Now the soul says, “go love yourself, its been ages since you called yourself, sunshine”

My sunshine on a bright warm day, all it takes is faith as small as a mustard seed to believe in your big story. Kharakapas mustard dress this noon.

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