Jaipur, also known as the Pink City, lies in the northwestern state of Rajasthan, India. It has always been a melting pot of design traditions, and this multi-generational home takes inspiration from that ethos. Over the centuries, its architecture has evolved into a rich amalgamation. Here, Mughal domes coexist with Rajput chhatris (domed pavilions), and Persian inlays clad the walls of Hindu temples. It’s often hard to tell where one influence ends and another begins, but this has now become Jaipur’s distinct design vocabulary. It permeates buildings, textiles, jewellery, and art, attracting a slew of inspiration seekers. Whether it is Dior’s saddle bag, with intricate Jaipur gota patti (embroidery) work, or Hermès' famously referenced Rose Jaipur Birkins, nodding to the city's iconic hue, Jaipur has inspired design the world over.
Aastha Bohra of Allium, Jaipur, grew up surrounded by the Jaipuri design mix and playfulness, which came naturally to her.
So, when three generations of women approached her to design a home with a simple brief – “we want a beautiful, comfortable space” – Aastha was instantly drawn to the idea. A grandmother, her daughter, and two granddaughters – a lineage of women designing for themselves. She knew she was about to have fun.
She christened the project “The Queen's Quarter” and began carving elegant pockets of space for the dowager, the queen, and the two princesses in classic, contemporary, and chic aesthetics, all under one glorious Jaipur roof.
“I felt part interior designer, part psychoanalyst,” laughs Aastha. “Before I even put pencil to paper, I was piecing together fragments of who they were.”
She observed quietly during visits to their old home and in conversations over coffee. She noticed the crisp pleats of the grandmother’s saree, the love for embroidered French art in the mother, and the books that reflected the breezy, free-spirited energy of the daughters. Their choices became her blueprint and her moodboard.
In her mind, she was already sketching. Walls, fabrics, artworks, and a material palette that would reflect not just style, but identity.
The result is a thoughtful fusion. Old and new coexist in this Jaipur home; a young girl’s whimsical wallpaper sits beside her grandmother’s antique teak chest. The Queen’s Quarter does not follow rules. There is no set pattern in terms of design philosophy or an era. No box to fit into. It’s just playfully timeless.
Lime-washed araish (a local method of lime plaster) walls are a subtle nod to Rajasthan’s havelis, paired with French wainscoting and an ornate ceiling. She designed a space where Egyptian hieroglyphic murals were painted and Indian tribal art was placed alongside them.
On the ground floor of the multi-generational home, the drawing room opens up barrier-free, with only a Romanesque arch flanked by slender columns and a sheer curtain that gently sways in the breeze. A fireplace sits slightly off-centre, drawing you in, while an oversized botanical artwork instantly sets the mood. The living space expands into a laid-back lounge, anchored by a deep burgundy media unit. Rich textures and jewel-toned accents animate the muted palette.
Adjacent to the courtyard lies the kitchen and dining area. Inspired by traditional desert chowks (open spaces), it filters natural light through perforated jaali (lattice) screens.
On the first floor, the vibe shifts. Bedrooms for the youngest generation embrace boldness. Bright sculptural chairs, graphic artwork, and a cheeky metallic gold pantry add wit.
Above, the top floor retreats into calm. A home theatre and lounge blend into a sun-drenched terrace, designed less like a media space and more like a meditative refuge.
“If I had to choose the spaces where I truly experimented,” says the designer, “it would be the terrace, which is a kind of studio in itself for a new language of art. We worked with underground local artists on pieces that were ambitious in both scale and sensibility.
Black-and-white canvases, bold Gothic reds, and Egyptian hieroglyphic patterns doodled on lime-washed walls. It was the first time we were playing with this kind of visual language.”
Another space that challenged her was a bathroom. “It’s not open to the sky, but it feels like it could be,” she says. A lush pocket of plants surrounds a circular tub, and soft filtered light gives it the aura of a secluded forest spring. It’s a juxtaposition of what a functional space could feel like. The details were new. Circular forms, moisture-friendly finishes, soft indirect light. But more than anything, it was about creating a sense of immersion, like a retreat that just happens to sit inside a house.
Unexpected artwork is tucked throughout the multi-generational home, not as gimmicks but as gestures of rebellion. A console hand-painted in moody blues and greens, where seahorses and fish curl around the drawers. Surprise patterns are introduced in the flooring that nod to 15th-century Moroccan designs. It is about building continuity not through sameness, but through conversation and letting cultures speak to each other through finish, colour, and context.
