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When the backdrop is Adiyogi, every vow feels a little more eternal. Taking on the extraordinary challenge of designing the first-ever wedding at Adiyogi, Coimbatore, Konark Weddings transformed the sacred grounds of the Isha Centre into an intimate, breathtaking setting for Rohan and Pallak to exchange vows. Set against the Velliangiri Hills and expansive skies, the celebration embraced a restrained palette of whites and minimal décor, allowing the monumental presence of Adiyogi to remain the true focal point.
But creating a wedding here meant rethinking everything about conventional décor. There were no ballroom walls to transform, ceilings to suspend installations from or structures to simply drape. Instead, there was open, consecrated ground—elemental, expansive and shaped by strong winds, particularly at dawn. Every design decision therefore began with a simple question: what does this space need? The answer was restraint, sensitivity and engineering that could withstand the elements without imposing on the sanctity of the setting.
In an interview founder Mandeep Agarwal’s son Himish, who is the concept designer, and daughter Yashvi, the wedding stylist and theme maker, share the creative vision, meticulous planning and design decisions behind this landmark celebration—and how they created a wedding to remember, setting a new benchmark for celebrations to follow.
When you first received the brief to design Palak and Rohan’s wedding at Adiyogi, what was the one instruction that changed the way you approached the entire décor?
From our very first conversation, Palak and Rohan were clear about one thing: they wanted their wedding to feel deeply spiritual, sacred and meaningful. The celebration had to carry a sense of divinity that felt true to the significance of getting married at Adiyogi.
That became our starting point as designers. We knew Adiyogi could never simply become a backdrop. Its spiritual energy and powerful presence had to remain intact, and everything we introduced needed to feel as though it naturally belonged there.
This led us to the concept “Adi Ananta.” “Adi” represents the beginning, while “Ananta” represents the infinite and eternal—symbolising the beginning of Palak and Rohan’s union and the infinite journey they were stepping into together.
How did “serve the space” guide your approach to designing around Adiyogi without overpowering its presence?
From the beginning, we knew Adiyogi had to remain the soul of the entire experience. Standing at an extraordinary 112 feet, it already carries a scale and visual presence that no temporary décor could—or should—try to compete with.
That changed the question for us. Instead of asking, “How do we make this grander?” we began asking, “What does this space actually need?” That became our philosophy of “serving the space.”
We chose working with a serene palette, cascading florals and sacred details. The scale, height and placement of every element were carefully considered so that the eye would always return to Adiyogi. We weren't trying to create a new world within Adiyogi; we wanted to design within the extraordinary world that already existed there.
What did “let the statue be the statement” actually mean when translated into a design language? What did you consciously choose not to do?
“Let the statue be the statement” became a filter through which we viewed almost every design decision.
It meant consciously choosing not to create an oversized backdrop behind the mandap, introduce loud colours and so on. With a 112-foot Adiyogi behind us, another visual statement would only create competition.
Instead, we kept the décor closer to the human scale -soft, fluid and understated. The structures created the foreground, but Adiyogi completed every frame. The openness around Adiyogi contributes immensely to its sense of scale, sp we allowed parts of it to remain untouched.
We wanted people to remember the feeling of witnessing Palak and Rohan getting married beneath Adiyogi—not how much décor surrounded them.
Why did you choose an entirely white floral palette, and how did you decide where the flowers should be placed?
White felt like the most natural choice for Adiyogi because it carries an inherent sense of purity, serenity and spirituality. We didn't want colour to become another strong visual layer competing with the statue.
The floral design was therefore less about abundance and more about placement. We used white cascading florals to soften the structures and create a gentle ceremonial frame around the couple, while deliberately leaving enough breathing space for Adiyogi to remain completely visible.
Rather than surrounding the statue with flowers, we concentrated them around the human scale of the celebration—the mandap, ceremonial areas and the journey towards them. The flowers were meant to lead the eye towards Adiyogi, not away from it.
The open ground and the fact that you could not anchor structures into the consecrated space must have completely changed your approach. What were the biggest design challenges?
This was undoubtedly one of the most challenging aspects of the entire wedding. We weren't just designing against time; we were designing against the environment.
Adiyogi is a common public space visited by thousands of people throughout the day, so we couldn't begin setting up early or take over the venue for an extended period. For a wedding scheduled at 6:30 AM, we effectively had only around four hours during the night to transform the space.
The location had another constraint. The venue being 1.5 hour & surrounded by open land and forested areas, so working through the night meant being careful of wildlife entering the site, making safety extremely important.
The mandap had to appear delicate and serene, but due to wind it had to be structurally strong. We therefore carried out on-site welding to reinforce it and make it sturdy.
So while the final setting looked calm and effortless, behind it was an extremely demanding execution involving speed, engineering, safety and precision. Our challenge was to ensure that none of that complexity was visible on the morning of the wedding.
The ceremony was scheduled for 6:30 AM. You have said, “This was not logistics. It was design.” What did that mean in practice?
At a place like Adiyogi, you are not designing in isolation. The space continues to belong to the public, and your execution cannot disturb its regular movement, functioning or sanctity.
Everything had to work within very specific time constraints. Production and setup had to be planned so that public access was never affected, while the venue could return to its regular functioning immediately after the celebration. We had to ensure that our labour, materials and production processes respected the space at every stage and maintained its cleanliness and sanctity.
So the 6:30 AM ceremony wasn't merely a logistical challenge. Every decision from when we entered the venue to how quickly we installed and cleared it—became part of the design process. At a place like Adiyogi, good design also means leaving the space exactly as respectfully as you found it.
Your team began setting up at midnight for a 6:30 AM ceremony. What were those hours like?
The night of the setup was probably one of the most intense parts of the entire project. Because Adiyogi remains a common public space with thousands of visitors throughout the day, we couldn't simply take over the venue and begin setting up whenever we wanted.
Our actual window to deck up the space was extremely limited, giving us only around four hours of effective execution time before everything had to be ready. Once we were on site, the wind became one of our biggest considerations. The team was constantly securing, adjusting and refining elements in real time, while multiple departments worked simultaneously.
It became a race against both time and nature.
And then, after working through the darkness, watching the first light fall on the completed mandap and slowly reveal Adiyogi behind it was an incredibly powerful moment. That was when months of designing and planning finally came together in the exact environment we had imagined.
With around 65 guests, how did intimacy influence the seating and overall layout?
With around 65 guests, we had the opportunity to design the seating around intimacy and personal experience rather than capacity.
We wanted every guest to feel close to Palak and Rohan and genuinely connected to the rituals, while still maintaining clear sightlines towards both the mandap and the 112-foot Adiyogi.
Because it was such an intimate gathering, every chair became an opportunity to personalise the experience. We placed thoughtfully curated details for each guest, including hand fans, personalised notes and other small elements, making their individual spaces feel considered rather than treating the seating as a purely functional requirement.
Do you see Adiyogi venue as a signal to shift towards meaningful destination weddings, changing how couples approach wedding design in India?
Absolutely. The response after this wedding itself showed us that this shift is already happening.
It clearly indicates that couples are moving beyond large-scale décor and spectacle and increasingly looking for destinations that carry meaning, spirituality and a deeper connection.
We believe this will change wedding design in India—from transforming spaces completely to respecting their identity and designing around what makes them meaningful.
