The origin of shawls in the world can be traced back more than 700 years. The first record comes from the Mughal period. By the 16th Century the Kashmir shawl industry was well-established. Mughal Emperor Akbar promoted the manufacture of shawls in Kashmir. He presented a gift of Kashmir "jamawar" shawl to the Queen of England.

The name Pashmina comes from pashm, the Persian word for wool. This wool comes from changthangi or ladakh or pashmina goat, a special breed of goat indigenous to high altitude of the Himalayas.

Due to the extreme weather conditions, the pashmina goats grow a special fur during winter. This fur is shed during spring and the fleece is caught on thorn bushes. Villagers scour the mountainside for the finest fleece to be used.

                           The Pashmina Goat - image courtesy: kashmir-rose.com

The winter fur that the goat grows is 1/6 the thickness of human hair. It is so fine that it cannot be spun by machines, so the wool is hand-woven into shawls, scarves, wraps, throws and stoles for export worldwide. The workmanship is so intricate and time consuming that some embroidered shawls take 2 to 4 years time to create.

 At Kaarigar we source the finest collection of pashmina directly from the artisans in Kashmir. 

In every shipment we put together we try to include a few items that aren't typically found in Vancouver - a 'Kaarigar Experiment' if you like. More than uniqueness - what we look for is an item with an engaging story that our clients can connect with. On this occasion it's the turn of the humble tiffin. A tiffin, or dabba (DUH-bah), is a simple lunchbox made up of stackable stainless steel compartments. While they're common throughout India, Bombay is where the tiffin has truly left it's mark. In Bombay, a hot meal for your office or school lunch is not seen as a luxury but a necessity. Moreover, Indians are notoriously picky when it comes to food (just ask). Home cooking is king here. This is where the tiffin comes into play. Every weekday morning in Bombay, a delivery system unlike any other on the planet swings into action. The system's goal: pick-up, deliver and then return each lunchbox on-time - a monumental task given the traffic, weather and number of tiffins. The people that take on this challenge are known as dabbawallahs - literally: box-carriers. They make their rounds of Bombay's neighbourhoods after the morning commute, collecting freshly prepared tiffins. Through a combination of bicycles, railway trains, a simple coding system and a handful of sorting checkpoints, the dabbawallahs are able to deliver a hot home-cooked lunch to schools and workplaces across the city. After lunch, the process is reversed and the empty lunchbox is returned home. The most remarkable aspect of the dabbawallah system is its unprecedented success rate - a recent study found that a tiffin is late or goes missing roughly once in every seven-million deliveries. This success rate is even more impressive considering that the dabbawallahs have a low level of literacy and that Bombay has a high level of road congestion. More recently, the system has gained recognition from the international business community and fame from Bollywood (see the movie 'Lunchbox'). Come by and pick out your own piece of this story.

This hilarious article was written by an ​ 

Architect from BaaN, Netherlands who spent two years in Hyderabad.

For the benefit of every Tom, Dick and Harry visiting India and daring to drive on Indian roads, I am offering a few hints for survival. They are applicable to every place in India except Bihar, where life outside a vehicle is only marginally safer.

Indian road rules broadly operate within the domain of karma where you do your best, and leave the results to your insurance company. The hints are as follows:

Do we drive on the left or right of the road?

The answer is "both". Basically you start on the left of the road, unless it is occupied. In that case, go to the right, unless that is also occupied. Then proceed by occupying the next available gap, as in chess. Just trust your instincts, ascertain the direction, and proceed. Adherence to road rules leads to much misery and occasional fatality. Most drivers don't drive, but just aim their vehicles in the intended direction. Don't you get discouraged or underestimate yourself except for a belief in reincarnation, the other drivers are not in any better position.

Don't stop at pedestrian crossings just because some fool wants to cross the road. You may do so only if you enjoy being bumped in the back. Pedestrians have been strictly instructed to cross only when traffic is moving slowly or has come to a dead stop because some minister is in town. Still some idiot may try to wade across, but then, let us not talk ill of the dead.

Blowing your horn is not a sign of protest as in some countries. We horn to express joy, resentment, frustration, romance and bare lust (two brisk blasts), or, just mobilize a dozing cow in the middle of the bazaar.

Keep informative books in the glove compartment. You may read them during traffic jams, while awaiting the chief minister's motorcade, or waiting for the rain ​ ​
waters to recede when over ground traffic meets underground drainage.

Occasionally you might see what looks like a UFO with blinking colored lights and weird sounds emanating from within. This is an illuminated bus, full of happy pilgrims singing bhajans. These pilgrims go at breakneck speed, seeking contact with the Almighty, ​ 
often meeting with success.

Auto Rickshaw (Baby Taxi): The result of a collision between a rickshaw and an automobile, this three-wheeled vehicle works on an external combustion engine that runs on a mixture of kerosene oil and creosote. This triangular vehicle carries iron rods, gas cylinders or passengers three times its weight and dimension, at an unspecified fare. After careful geometric calculations, children are folded and packed into these auto rickshaws until some children in the periphery are not in contact with the vehicle at all. Then their school bags are pushed into the microscopic gaps all round so those minor collisions with other vehicles on the road cause no permanent damage. Of course, the peripheral children are charged half the fare and also learn Newton's laws of motion en route to school. Auto-rickshaw drivers follow the road rules depicted in the film Ben Hur, and are licensed to irritate.

Mopeds: The moped looks like an oil tin on wheels and makes noise like an electric shaver. It runs 30 miles on a teaspoon of petrol and travels at break-bottom speed. As the sides of the road are too rough for a ride, the moped drivers tend to drive in the middle of the road; they would rather drive under heavier vehicles instead of around them and are often "mopped" off the tarmac.

Leaning Tower of Passes: Most bus passengers are given free passes and during rush hours, there is absolute mayhem. There are passengers hanging off other passengers, who in turn hang off the railings and the overloaded bus leans dangerously, defying laws of gravity but obeying laws of surface tension. As drivers get paid for overload (so many Rupees per kg of passenger), no questions are ever asked. Steer clear of these buses by a width of three passengers.

One-way Street: These boards are put up by traffic people to add jest in their otherwise drab lives. Don't stick to the literal meaning and proceed in one direction. In metaphysical terms, it means that you cannot proceed in two directions at once. So drive, as you like, in reverse throughout, if you are the fussy type. Least I sound hypercritical; I must add a positive point also. Rash and fast driving in residential areas has been prevented by providing a "speed breaker"; two for each house.

This mound, incidentally, covers the water and drainage pipes for that residence and is left un tarred for easy identification by the corporation authorities, should they want to recover the pipe for year-end accounting.

Night driving on Indian roads can be an exhilarating experience (for those with the mental makeup of Genghis Khan). In a way, it is like playing Russian roulette, because you do not know who amongst the drivers is loaded. What looks like premature dawn on the horizon turns out to be a truck attempting a speed record. On encountering it, just pull partly into the field adjoining the road until the phenomenon passes. Our roads do not have shoulders, but occasional boulders. Do not blink your lights expecting reciprocation. The only dim thing in the truck is the driver, and with the peg of illicit arrack (alcohol) he has had at the last stop, his total cerebral functions add up to little more than a naught. Truck drivers are the James Bonds of India, and are licensed to kill. Often you may encounter a single powerful beam of light about six feet above the ground. This is not a super motorbike, but a truck approaching you with a single light on, usually the left one. It could be the right one, but never get too close to investigate. You may prove your point posthumously. Of course, all this occurs at night, on the trunk roads. During the daytime, trucks are more visible, except that the drivers will never show any Signal. (And you must watch for the absent signals; they are the greater threat). Only, you will often observe that the cleaner who sits next to the driver, will project his hand and wave hysterically.

This is definitely not to be construed as a signal for a left turn. The waving is just a statement of physical relief on a hot day.

If, after all this, you still want to drive in India, have your lessons between 8 pm and 11 am-when the police have gone home and The citizen is then free to enjoy the 'FREEDOM OF SPEED' enshrined in our constitution.

Having said all this, isn't it true that the accident rate and related deaths are less in India compared to US or other countries!