For most people, home is a cherished space shared with the ones you love, and a space which adapts to the rhythm of those who reside within it. The most beautiful homes of this month are mainly handcrafted by the families that reside within them, whether it be the vision of a mother-daughter duo, a family's desire to slowly escape into the mountains, or a man's wish to retire in peace after living a fulfilled life.
Here are 10 of the most loved and most beautiful homes, as featured in AD India in January.
A Home Anchored By Two Centenarian Trees
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Designed by Azmin Kaka, principal designer, Azmin Kaka Interiors, for her family, the 9000-square-foot home took shape gradually, guided by instinct and sharpened by intent. Construction was already underway when the designer realised she wanted something more permanent than a holiday retreat. “I wanted it to feel like our home in every sense of the word. A home that encapsulated our family’s personalities. A home that had a little bit of everyone in it,” Azmin Kaka says. To give structure to that intuition, she enrolled in a design diploma, equipping herself with the vocabulary to shape every detail herself. “I have always believed that a house is not just cement, mortar and bricks, it’s built with heart and soul,” she adds. Spread across 1.8 acres, the property reveals itself slowly. A gate crafted from salvaged teak opens onto a winding driveway that meanders through orchards and flowering gardens planted entirely with local species. Mango, coconut, chikoo, lemon, custard apple, guava, and avocado trees sit alongside hibiscus, lilies, bougainvillea, Rangoon creepers, and night jasmine, all chosen to remain rooted in Alibag’s ecology.
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From the very beginning, the designer was clear that the landscape had to feel of its place, and that not a single existing tree would be cut during construction. Two centenarian anchors define life outdoors. A banyan tree, over a hundred years old, shelters what the family calls the Buddha Deck, while a mango tree stands proudly over the front lawn. Beneath the banyan, an eight-foot-tall Buddha sits surrounded by layered seating and an outdoor dining area spread across two levels. “This is where we spend most of our time, sipping afternoon chai, listening to the birds and the rustling of the leaves, and often dozing off on the daybed as the breeze filters through the branches,” Kaka says. Nearby, the lawn becomes a space for impromptu games and unstructured evenings, shared equally by the family and their Shih Tzu.
Original text by Nadezna Siganporia, edited for context.
A Mother And Daughter's Vision
Kohelika Kohli arrived with her parents at a farm in Sohna, Haryana, 35 years ago, when the mustard fields were in full bloom. All around, the Aravallis rose along a ridge, older than the blooming mustards, older than time. The stone cottage in the nerve centre of the farm, owned by a Gujjar family, dated back to over 180 years. When Kohelika used to visit as a child, there were barely any pukka roads leading to the house. Once inside, she’d rush to the tube well that her father had enlarged into a swimming pool: feet first and then the head-on plunge. Khwabgah, literally meaning a place to dream, takes its name from Kohelika’s mother, AD100 designer Sunita Kohli’s first visit to the Mughal Khwabgah in Fatehpur Sikri in her early teens.
However, the soul of the original 180-year-old stone cottage is kept alive—in the preserved ceiling upheld now by railway girders acting as load-bearing beams or in the way light prances across the home between a large Burma teak Cheval mirror and antique baskets from China. “The Aravallis, among the world’s oldest mountains, gifted the original builders the toughest and most enduring stones, their surfaces softened by the passage of countless years,” Kohelika, the cofounder and creative director of the Delhi-based architecture and design studio K2India, says. “Dry-laid walls and hand-packed earth floors once made up the bones of a life lived in harmony with nature.” She is conscious of not describing the 20-acre farm as a farmhouse—its connotations are far too limiting to truly give shape to the multitudes the house holds. Khwabgah is a restoration project, not a chaotic construction sticking out in the rocky heartland of Sohna. It was important, then, for Kohelika to have a house that moved with the seasons and held, within its walls, a delicate balance between preservation and transformation, memory and possibility.
Original text by Arman Khan, edited for context.
A Slow Living Haven In The Mountains
For some, the idea of a mountain home in Kullu might seem distant, even a touch whimsical. Yet for those who live atop forested slopes, where wildlife sightings are commonplace and silence settles like a blanket, this is simply the everyday. In an age where peace feels like a privilege, one close-knit family has embraced the organic, unhurried pace of nature. In Raison, Kullu, the Chatrath family – Jaya, Veer, Nikita and their two beloved pets, Jojo and Pasha, inhabit a 5,500-square-foot, four-bedroom home designed for slow living. Here, life unfolds gently, in harmony with the rhythms of the land. Their residence is also the heart of their flourishing venture, Big Bear Farms – a farm-to-doorstep brand whose gardens-turned-orchards yield an abundance of fruit and produce. From jams and preserves to marmalades, honey, bottled fruit, and confectionery, each offering is rooted in the bounty of their hillside haven. At the heart of their life and work lies a singular ethos: handmade, hand-built, and deeply personal.
For the family, sunlight and ventilation were essential, and they designed the spaces so that every room would feel airy and open. “For form, our initial inspiration was an old cow shed beside my husband’s grandmother’s house (we lived there for our first five years in the valley),” adds Nikita. “We replicated this building using local materials (stone, slate, reclaimed wood), which became our central dining and living space. Funnily enough, the old cow shed had a leak and its roof was replaced with tin. We took the old slate from there and used it for the roof of our living space! The concept evolved into a series of barn-like structures that were externally unique, all connected by glass passages." The interiors exude warmth and comfort, thanks to carefully chosen furnishings and the generous use of wood. To maintain a constant indoor-outdoor dialogue, the family designed spaces to frame the surrounding landscape at every turn. “Most windows have a deep ledge that can be used as seats to stare out from; in fact mostly used by our pets to survey the outdoors, people and pests!” adds Nikita.
Original text by Aditi Sharma, edited for context.
A Masterclass In Instinctual Design
Designer Farah Agarwal believes that her job is to guide her clients to discover and express their innate aesthetic, rather than impose her own. As founder and chief designer of Chennai-based practice Chestnut Storeys, she begins all her projects by swapping references and collating mood boards in an attempt to understand what would make her clients truly feel at home. And while she admits social media can be a great starting point for clients looking to explore their aesthetic, what really helps sharpen the concept is chancing upon a piece of furniture or decor that captures the essence of their vision. In the case of Amaithi, an ambitious 20,000-square-foot home in Tiruppur that Agarwal designed for a family of four, the anchor piece happened to be a botanical chandelier by Klove Studio, which perfectly encompassed the off-beat, contemporary, culture-agnostic vibe they were going for.
“We had not even started the interior work, but when I showed it to the client, so much so that they flew to Delhi to see it at the studio,” shares Agarwal, “It was the first thing we zeroed down on, regardless of what would happen anywhere else.” The design for Amaithi evolved through a similarly intuitive approach, and is all the richer for it.The material palette is simple, anchored with white walls, wood panelling and glimmers of marble, but a clever curation of contemporary furniture and decor, sourced from across the world, brings practically every texture, pattern, colour and contour into play. Deep-toned velvets share space with glimmering brass accents, rustic antiques stand alongside sleek contemporary forms, and art populates practically every wall. No matter where you are in this home in Tiruppur, there’s always an asymmetric armchair to sit back on, a plush carpet to curl your toes in, and an irresistible view of the outdoors to enjoy.
Original text by Avantika Shankar, edited for context.
An Enchanting Escape In Nandi Hills
Mountains have an unerring way of making us feel small. For Sunitha Kondur and Bijoy Ramachandran of AD100 firm Hundredhands, this lesson in humility was served on the steep slopes of Nandi Hills near Bengaluru when it was time to draw up a plan for a client’s weekend home. The site, a canyon-like terrain, sat on the rear end of the dominant peak of the hill range. It was the kind of knotty topography that demanded utmost patience and reverence before it would allow the architects to unfurl their audacity. What the duo had estimated would take one year to finish eventually took 30 months to reach completion. The enchanting 6,500-square-foot home has an intriguing structure that—for all its unfussy, linear stretch—has unmistakable elements of drama. At road level, one could misinterpret it as a ground-floor building, almost subterranean. It’s only when one goes all the way to the back of the house does the generous height present itself in full glory.
The homeowner’s desire for an “open structure that would bring the mountains in” was embedded in their abiding respect for the untamed land around them, which, in turn, influenced the choice of building materials. One of the most subtle features of this house in Nandi Hills, therefore, is also its most striking—its palette of exposed brick and concrete, along with traditional lime plaster finish on the exterior. Even the wood used in the series of louvred windows along the connecting bridge between the two bedrooms on the upper floor are sourced from honne, a variety of local hardwood known to endure the most hostile weather conditions. The windows shield against the harsh glare of the setting sun, and simultaneously cast beauteous shifting patterns of light on the floor. It is as if the house smiles at the end of the day, and it has every reason to do so.
Original text by Rajashree Balaram, edited for context.
A Lepcha House Where Tradition Is Reimagined
Bharath P grew up in Madurai and moved to Sikkim to work as an architect on a luxury hotel development. COVID however, left him stranded in the state and in the intervening years, he made Sikkim, more specifically, Pangthang village his home. When he was offered the chance to design and build a house for Allen Lepcha and his family in nearby Penlong, he made it clear that he was going to do it his way or not at all. That ended up being the case, and the resulting three-story house draws heavily from local Sikkimese design, Lepcha tradition and local materials — clarifying Bharath’s own design philosophy. He notes, “Design has to logically make sense. Design shouldn't be random at all. Every line must have meaning. Every project that we do, should have some concept. It has to be unique.”
In bringing it all together, Bharath worked with the homeowner to research indigenous fabrics and weaves (the homeowner opened up his wedding album to spotlight local traditions) and find the right artisans, while also drawing on local building techniques, design, and construction materials. The final construction is contextual, fits the plot, and showcases aspects of the owner’s Lepcha heritage. Spread over three storeys, Lepcha Abode draws on vernacular architecture — with the home raised on stilts, to keep moisture and dampness at bay. Bharath says, “the site will tell you what to do,” and in this case that meant ensuring minimal cutting of foliage and working around existing vegetation. For Bharath, the house in Sikkim was a chance to engage with local craftspeople and their skills. The goal was to showcase and modernize parts of Lepcha culture that are slowly disappearing. By showcasing that these crafts can be adapted, scaled or just reimagined – there’s a blueprint for keeping the region’s local community connected with their heritage.
Original text by Aatish Nath, edited for context.
A Treasure Trove Of Craftsmanship
In the fast-paced life of a business professional, the time spent at home becomes precious, full of brief yet quiet moments of relaxation. RK Shah, a philanthropist and seasoned businessman approached Sonal Chordia of Hohm Design Studio with a unique brief, one that asked her to prolong these stolen moments of relaxation and infuse it into the design of this villa in Bengaluru. “At the core he wanted this home to celebrate quiet accomplishment, reflecting his journey from modest beginnings to refined maturity,” explains Sonal, “he wanted to live unburdened in a space that affirmed he has done enough, and now deserves to simply feel at home.” “He wanted this home to evoke the spirit of an ancestral residence, something akin to a haveli or a lived-in palace, without imitation,” Sonal shares. And what better way to evoke the havelis of the past, than emulating their extensive patronage of craftsmanship?
In this home, the curation of craft pieces takes you on a journey to all the different hubs of craftsmanship in India. The highlight of the space however, is the Chettinad pillars. Made from reclaimed teakwood and mounted on elegantly carved stone bases, these pillars recall the artistry and craftsmanship championed by the Chettiar merchants. In the home, they anchor the living room, adding to the classical aesthetic of the space, serving as a backdrop to the seating area, while also acting as a divider between the living room and the staircase. The emphasis on craftsmanship lends an old world charm to the home, one that is also enhanced by classical European references in the design of the staircase and garden and in subtler elements like the wainscoting. All of these elements come together to create a villa in Bengaluru that despite its expanse, feels comfortable and lived in— the perfect forever home that facilitates moments of calm, and quality time spent with family. So it comes as no surprise that the home was named Ujwal, after Ujwala Shah, who fills the home with unending light and energy.
Original text by Khushi Sheth, edited for context.
A Stylist's Amalgamation Of Inspiration
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Fashion and interiors may belong to different worlds, but they share a powerful common force: the creative visionaries working tirelessly behind the scenes. And while bold artistic visions often pull in opposite directions, there are rare moments when they converge, leaving behind spaces that radiate the brilliance of collaboration. This was the case for designer Jason Wadhwani and his client, celebrity fashion stylist Sukriti Grover, when she enlisted his namesake design studio for her 2,300-square-foot home in the northern suburbs of Mumbai. “It all started when Sukriti came to my home and felt an instant connection with the design,” Wadhwani recalls. “It’s rare to meet a client on the same artistic wavelength,” he shares. “She was eager to push the envelope and create something truly original, which is something I can never resist.”
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The brief Grover and her husband gave Wadhwani was short and sweet: the Mumbai apartment was to be chic, contemporary, and unexpected in all the right places. “We went about referencing design styles and ended up with a strange concoction of Wabi-sabi, Japandi, and Aztec styles,” Wadhwani says. Upon entering, the home reveals itself with a gentle visual continuity. The living room slips into the den and dining area, which in turn leads to the master bedroom. Sliding and switchable glass screens define these transitions, evoking Japandi openness while textured finishes nod to Wabi-sabi’s reverence for imperfection. The result is a layout that shifts effortlessly between social and private zones. “Since the home is used for entertaining so often, we decided to centre the living room around a sunken seating pit, with a bold black-and-white graphic sofa as the focal point,” says Wadhwani. The surrounding palette is intentionally muted, punctuated with blacks and greens, and patterned accents subtly reference Aztec geometry.
Original text by Ariane Shah, edited for context.
Where Texture Does The Talking
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Minimalism, when taken seriously, leaves very little room to hide. This 3,000-square-foot Bengaluru home accepts that condition; and builds carefully and deliberately within it. Rather than relying on colour or spectacle, the design unfolds through discipline of palette and proportion. Despite arriving at a moment when the neutral white has been rebranded—Pantone’s Cloud Dancer among them—the project treats neutrality not as trend, but as condition. For the homeowner, a well-honed content creator and blogger, the apartment had to be one that could hold multiple registers at once: a calm canvas to contain her creative output but also a refined and deeply livable family home that does not slip into the sterility that neutral interiors so often risk. Bengaluru-based Studio Goya’s response was not to dilute the brief with safe gestures, but sharpen the minimalism through tactile layers.
With colour largely removed from the equation, texture became the primary design tool for this Bengaluru home, coming through most strongly in the limewashed walls that introduce both softness and depth by catching light unevenly. Soft woods (particularly oak) and bouclé upholstery appear in calibrated doses, metal accents are used sparingly, while marble surfaces bring in quiet movement through subtle veining. Each material choice—restrained but deliberate—builds a layered sensory experience without any visual clutter and without tipping into excess. Working with a limited colour range demanded unusual precision in order to resist a gallery-like white cube atmosphere; which Mehra addresses with a careful calibration of details such as lighting. White interiors can be unforgiving under bad lighting, so warm, diffused sources of light maintain cohesion through softness.
Original text by Alisha Lad, edited for context.
A Ode To Ancestral Homes
Giving things a second life—or a third—is a gift of Gayathri Padmam H.’s. Over her decade-long career, she has turned (tree) trunks into tables and tables into (storage) trunks, never pausing to question an object’s value—or its lack thereof. For the architect, who also runs the furniture studio Tusker Katha, material memory is reason enough. So when fate presented the founder and principal of Bengaluru-based Aanai Design Studio with a project that involved reviving—and carefully transplanting—elements from an ancestral home into a family bungalow in Bengaluru, it felt less like a commission and more like a continuation of her long-held belief that materials are never finished, only waiting to be re-read.
Padmam imagined the home as a place that settles you the moment you arrive—quiet, grounded, and instinctively familiar. Rooted in tradition yet deliberately restrained, the design lets materials and gestures do the talking. The courtyard quickly becomes the heart of the home, both spatially and emotionally. It is framed by antique wooden pillars reclaimed from the clients’ ancestral house—elements Padmam treated not merely as structure, but as storytellers. “They carried memory,” she notes, “and it felt important that that memory wasn’t just preserved, but lived with.” Installing the pillars, however, was far from plainsailing, for their original proportions had to be carefully adapted to suit the height and structure of the Mangalore-tile roof. Any excess material was thoughtfully reused elsewhere, with fragments of the original pillars now marking the transition from the living room into the kitchen. “Nothing was wasted,” Padmam explains. “Every piece found its place.”
Original text by Vaishnavi Nayel Talawadekar, edited for context.
