

Our third bride for Threads of Tradition never had the chance to know the woman whose maroon silk chunni she wore on her wedding day. But as Aisha Gandhi walked the Laavaan with her partner Jiv Prince, that piece of fabric became a thoughtful way of bringing her late mother-in-law into their marriage.
When Aisha married Jiv in Cancún, Mexico, in April 2026, their four-day destination wedding brought together her Indian roots, their life in America and the energy of Mexico. But it was their Anand Karaj that held the most special significance. For the ceremony, Aisha chose to wear a maroon silk chunni that had belonged to Jiv’s late mother, transforming it into the palla that connected the couple as they walked the four Laavaan.
It was a simple choice with an extraordinary emotional weight. Aisha had never seen Jiv’s mother wear the chunni, but she understood its value through the care with which Jiv had preserved her belongings. By bringing it into their ceremony, she was not trying to fill an absence, but acknowledge the woman who had shaped the person she was marrying.
The chunni belonged to Jiv’s mother. After she passed away, Jiv kept several of her belongings, including a maroon silk suit and this piece that had been preserved in their original form. When Aisha saw it, she immediately imagined it as part of their Anand Karaj. “Sometimes an heirloom becomes important to you not because you remember its first story, but because you love the person who does,” she shares.
The decision became even more meaningful when Aisha thought about using the chunni as their palla. During the Laavaan, the palla connects the couple as they walk together, representing their commitment to a shared spiritual path.
For Aisha, the symbolism was impossible to miss. The piece that had once belonged to Jiv’s mother would now be the very thing connecting them as they began their marriage. “Marriage is often spoken about as the beginning of a new family, but I think it is also about honouring the families and histories that already exist,” explains our bride.
Aisha’s bridal look was soft and understated, built around ivory, pastel and sage tones. The deep maroon of the chunni stood apart from it, and she wanted it that way. Rather than redesigning it to fit the look, she chose to preserve its identity.
Because it was originally a chunni rather than a traditional long palla, Aisha hand-sewed and adjusted it herself so it could be used during the ceremony without altering its original character. Aisha recounts, “I never wanted it to look newly created for my wedding. There was something beautiful about allowing it to look exactly like what it was, a piece with a life before me.”
The shorter length also meant that Aisha and Jiv had to walk slightly closer together during the Laavaan. What began as a practical detail became one of her favourite parts of the ceremony. “Something that had once belonged to his mother was not only connecting us symbolically, it was literally keeping us close,” she adds.
Aisha also retained the original maroon colour, silk, details and natural fall of the fabric. In a wedding culture often centred around custom couture and creating something entirely new, she found beauty in doing the opposite. She explains, “The beauty was in its history. I did not want to erase that history by making it look more bridal or more current.”
Aisha loved creating new looks for her wedding, from the fabrics and silhouettes to the jewellery and finishing details. But after the celebrations, it was the piece no designer had created specifically for her that stayed with her most.
“You can recreate a silhouette. You can commission another lehenga. You can source another piece of silk or reproduce beautiful embroidery. But you cannot recreate history.”
For her, that is where the true value of an heirloom lies. Its worth is not necessarily monetary, but in the fact that its story cannot be replicated. Aisha shared, “Something with a genuine past feels increasingly rare. Its value is not in how much it costs. Its value is in the fact that it cannot be replaced.”
It is also why Aisha sees heirloom dressing as an evolving expression of luxury. In a world where almost anything can be produced anew, wearing something that already carries a life, a memory and an emotional history offers something newness cannot.
For Jiv and his family, seeing his mother's chunni become part of the Anand Karaj was a very emotional moment. For Aisha, it was a way of honouring the woman who raised the person she was marrying.
She shares, “I may not have shared years of memories with her mother-in-law, but I get to live every day with the person she helped shape. That connection, for me , is enough to make the chunni part of her story too. And I hope it will continue beyond our story. I want the chunni to keep living.”
One day, she hopes someone else in the family will hold the same maroon silk and know the story it carries: that it belonged first to Jiv’s mother, that her son preserved it after losing her, and that years later, it became the palla that connected Aisha and Jiv during their Anand Karaj in Cancún.
She does not want the next person to feel obligated to use it exactly as she did. It could become a palla again, find its way into another wedding ritual or take on an entirely different form.
“It should not be frozen in time. It should collect stories,” she asserts.
And perhaps that is the most beautiful definition of an heirloom. Not something protected so carefully that it never gets worn, but something loved enough to keep moving through generations, gathering new memories without ever losing the ones that came before.
Manifest’s August theme, Threads of Tradition, a series celebrating real brides who have given family textiles, heirlooms and traditions a new life.