For the Parsi community, the sadra is the most intimate of garments: white muslin worn close to the skin, every day, as a quiet act of faith. It is not displayed. It is not discussed. It is simply worn, until it begins to fall apart.The project began with the sadras of Ziya Tarapore's father. As they grew thin and threadbare, Ziya found herself facing a harder truth: that the man who wore them was growing frail too. She could not set the garments aside. Instead, she cut them into small pieces, removing the sacred sections carefully before processing them in a Hollander machine until the cloth gave way to fibre. That fibre became paper. That paper became fire, water, roots and sky. What began as a way to memorialise Ziya’s father, became a way to hold him a little longer. His sadras were the catalyst, but the project did not stay his alone. As word spread, friends and family began offering their own. Each garment carried a different life, a different body, a different faith quietly kept. All of them, and the energies they hold, are present in the works.In Mumbai the sadra needs no explanation. Many visitors will think of someone in their own lives who wore one. Perhaps that is what this show is really about. Not holding on to what we must lose, but discovering how love can take it forward and make it beautiful.