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Mehru is a soft silk saree, paired with a matching blouse and petticoat. Featuring the words of Jigar Moradabadi calligraphed throughout.
It’s the kind of mehfil where the whole house is alive, every corner filled with love, laughter, and conversations that never seem to end.
It starts with one guest, then another, the house filling with voices, laughter, and the smell of something really good coming from the kitchen.
The elders, lost in nostalgia, sharing tales of “jab hum tumhare jitnay thay…”
While the little ones chase each other, lost in their own little world of giggles and mischief.
And in the center of it all, the newlyweds, being teased, being adored, basking in the kind of love that only family can give.
It’s chaos. It’s comfort. It’s home.
This mehfil is loud, messy, and overflowing with love. And honestly? There’s nothing better.
Material & Fit
Material of Saree: Silk
Material of Blouse: Viscose Jacquard
Material of Petticoat: Lawn
About the Saree:
*Sana is wearing a Size "S-M-L"
Disclaimer:
Poetry
An Ode To Jigar Moradabadi
اک لفظ محبت کا ادنیٰ یہ فسانا ہے
Ek lafz mohabbat ka adna yeh fasaana hai
سمٹے تو دل عاشق پھیلے تو زمانا ہے
Simte to dil-e-aashiq, phailay to zamaana hai
دل سنگ ملامت کا ہر چند نشانا ہے
Dil sang-e-malamat ka har chand nishaana hai
دل پھر بھی مرا دل ہے دل ہی تو زمانا ہے
Dil phir bhi mera dil hai, dil hi to zamaana hai
ہم عشق کے ماروں کا اتنا ہی فسانا ہے
Hum ishq ke maaron ka itna hi fasaana hai
رونے کو نہیں کوئی ہنسنے کو زمانا ہے
Rone ko nahin koi, hansne ko zamaana hai
وہ اور وفا دشمن مانیں گے نہ مانا ہے
Woh aur wafa dushman, maanenge na maana hai
سب دل کی شرارت ہے آنکھوں کا بہانا ہے
Sab dil ki shararat hai, aankhon ka bahaana hai
Translation:
The simple tale of the word “love” is only this.
If it gathers, it becomes the lover’s heart; if it spreads, it becomes the whole world.
The heart is often the target of blame and reproach.
Yet still it is my heart; indeed, the heart itself is the whole world.
The story of those wounded by love is only this much.
There is no one to share their tears, yet the whole world is there to laugh.
Those enemies of faithfulness will accept it or not, as they wish.
It is all the mischief of the heart, the eyes are only an excuse.
To ensure that it remains as beautiful as the day you first wore it:
Adding product to your cart
Add some text to tell customers more about your product.
Mehru is a soft silk saree, paired with a matching blouse and petticoat. Featuring the words of Jigar Moradabadi calligraphed throughout.
It’s the kind of mehfil where the whole house is alive, every corner filled with love, laughter, and conversations that never seem to end.
It starts with one guest, then another, the house filling with voices, laughter, and the smell of something really good coming from the kitchen.
The elders, lost in nostalgia, sharing tales of “jab hum tumhare jitnay thay…”
While the little ones chase each other, lost in their own little world of giggles and mischief.
And in the center of it all, the newlyweds, being teased, being adored, basking in the kind of love that only family can give.
It’s chaos. It’s comfort. It’s home.
This mehfil is loud, messy, and overflowing with love. And honestly? There’s nothing better.
Material & Fit
Material of Saree: Silk
Material of Blouse: Viscose Jacquard
Material of Petticoat: Lawn
About the Saree:
*Sana is wearing a Size "S-M-L"
Disclaimer:
Poetry
An Ode To Jigar Moradabadi
اک لفظ محبت کا ادنیٰ یہ فسانا ہے
Ek lafz mohabbat ka adna yeh fasaana hai
سمٹے تو دل عاشق پھیلے تو زمانا ہے
Simte to dil-e-aashiq, phailay to zamaana hai
دل سنگ ملامت کا ہر چند نشانا ہے
Dil sang-e-malamat ka har chand nishaana hai
دل پھر بھی مرا دل ہے دل ہی تو زمانا ہے
Dil phir bhi mera dil hai, dil hi to zamaana hai
ہم عشق کے ماروں کا اتنا ہی فسانا ہے
Hum ishq ke maaron ka itna hi fasaana hai
رونے کو نہیں کوئی ہنسنے کو زمانا ہے
Rone ko nahin koi, hansne ko zamaana hai
وہ اور وفا دشمن مانیں گے نہ مانا ہے
Woh aur wafa dushman, maanenge na maana hai
سب دل کی شرارت ہے آنکھوں کا بہانا ہے
Sab dil ki shararat hai, aankhon ka bahaana hai
Translation:
The simple tale of the word “love” is only this.
If it gathers, it becomes the lover’s heart; if it spreads, it becomes the whole world.
The heart is often the target of blame and reproach.
Yet still it is my heart; indeed, the heart itself is the whole world.
The story of those wounded by love is only this much.
There is no one to share their tears, yet the whole world is there to laugh.
Those enemies of faithfulness will accept it or not, as they wish.
It is all the mischief of the heart, the eyes are only an excuse.
To ensure that it remains as beautiful as the day you first wore it: