The skeins of designer Meera Ali’s life have combined to weave a rich tapestry

Six weeks after Muzaffar Ali and I made ‘magic’ at Ajmer, I told my parents it was marriage for me! Thirteen years and a daughter later, I’m happy with life.

But 13 years ago, on the surface of things, everyone was sure that I was smitten with a film maker; that I was running away to join films. It was neither the basis of our relationship, nor was I interested in films. Am I glad to have proved them wrong? No, I don’t have to prove myself to anyone, only to God, to myself and to the people who are dependent on me.

Ajmer Magic
When I met Muzaffar, I was working with Laul & Associates in conjunction with HUDCO. I’m a trained architect specialising in alternate building materials. He was making a film on Sufism in Ajmer and wanted me to work in it. When I met him, I didn’t know his background. I thought he was attractive, but I didn’t want to find out anything about him.

What I found interesting was the project. It was a new experience for me, it would take me to new places and besides, I had not been exposed to Sufism. I wasn’t excited so much about being in front of the camera as I was about travelling to locations with a new group of people. My folks were not excited about it, but not against it either. It was surprisingly easy to get them to agree.

It was only when we were in Ajmer that I realised who Muzaffar was. In the five to six days that we were in Ajmer, I got to know him. And it was instant attraction from both sides. We were from different worlds. I was getting an exposure to films and a new culture, and it won me over absolutely. Ajmer was magic. It was like intoxication.

Overcoming Hurdles
In Delhi, I introduced Muzaffar to my parents, I didn’t hide anything from them, but it was impossible for them to understand. My parents were conservative. Not that they were harsh on us — my brother, sister and I — but we had curfew time and it was strictly enforced.

In fact, when I went to the Institute of Environmental Design, Baroda, to study architecture, it was a big thing, the first time in the family. It was only later when I was sending Sama to boarding school that I realised that it was more difficult for parents to send children away than for the children to go away!

I had reached a situation where I didn’t want to confront my parents any more. Muzaffar and I were from different communities, cultures, religions and I didn’t want to upset my parents further. But I also could not give anybody any explanation because it was beyond explanation. I just felt it was the right thing to do. Around then, my parents were moving abroad to be with my brother.

So unfortunately, they were not there for my marriage. But when we met after two years, it was as if nothing had gone wrong. Time, they say, is a big healer. Besides, they realised that I was happily married and above all, they had a granddaughter.

Growing Together
Marriage to me is a great process of self discovery. Muzaffar and I work together, travel together, eat together, we try to create things together. Marriage for us is a process of creating beauty together and not just in each other. It keeps us inspired. We do nothing in isolation; we need each other constantly. Sure, we have fights; it’s only natural because we’re two people with two different minds.

After our marriage in 1990, we stayed at Kotwara. Muzaffar always wanted to spend time there. With his sensitivity to fabrics and my architectural background, getting into the construction of garments and motifs was very natural. We began to teach the local women too, and that’s how our label ‘Kotwara’ grew.

Also the palace at Kotwara was a haven for an architect. I started renovating it; today, it’s a guesthouse, but strictly not for commercial purpose. It’s not a weekend place for drinks and loud music, but a place to bring the energies of different people together. It’s a place for introspection.

We also have duar pe roji , which is aimed at providing jobs at home. We run a charitable school, workshops, teacher training programme, we weave dhurries. Today, we live in Delhi, but travel twice a month to Lucknow and Kotwara.

The Three Of Us
When Sama was born, I didn’t want ‘baby girl’ written on her birth certificate as is usually done. ‘Sama’ means divine music. Amazingly, both of us had been thinking of the same name and that’s how her birth certificate has Sama. She’s a compassionate girl, but she also knows how to give those ‘dialogues’. Last year, we sent her to Mayo College, she lasted just a month in the hostel!

Life is full; 24 hours a day are too few. Apart from Kotwara, there’s music; our label is called Sama World Sufi Music. There’s the annual Amir Khusro concert. Muzaffar is working on two feature films. He’s also trying to complete ‘Zooni’, which had to be abandoned halfway because of the situation in Kashmir.

I’m happy with life. I try my best not to get sucked into irrelevant activities. I like to work hard, spend time with my daughter, to travel together. I’m not into asset building, or acquiring things to elicit gasps. I’m quite detached about things. We live in a rented house, but I’ve a nice car because I like it, not because I want to drive up to your doorstep and impress you!

Eventually, I’ve come to a situation where I’m not dependent on living in the city — ultimately, I would want to live at Kotwara. Kotwara is home.

Meera Ali spoke to Purabi Shridhar