All we ever earn is nobility. In the measured pauses between our words, the silent spaces in our songs, the muffled click of the bedroom door, and even in the rustle of our dreams. Nobility, in the New Age, isn’t bequeathed, it is acquired sip by sip. It is a gentle spirit trotting through our veins and our homes.
We could say a four-poster bed has been pulled to the center to allow a stallion to canter around it. We think the Persian carpet converses with the artworks decorating a wall, and the chandelier appears to listen in. Maybe it is our imagination, and the tall sheer drapes don’t actually shatter like glass in the morning blast of a December sunrise. Let’s not try and describe an abstraction that deserves to be felt. The master bedroom and suite are purely an inner experience.
Although in high-end finish and ultra-modern fixtures, the kitchen takes us back to the good old days, as we watch our sunny runny eggs go sputtering from the frying pan onto our eager palates. Large is the Knightsbridge kitchen. Large enough to sit down four at a homely table in its motherly belly. And this stable of memories may, easily and abruptly, become the heart of lavish culinary experiments leading to a grand feast later in the night. Our kitchen is an efficient machine, being unobtrusively attached to the lobby, the main service area, the utility section, the store, and the staff quarters.
At the cusp of Delhi and Noida, five imposing towers of Knightsbridge herald our arrival into a very private island of goodness gracious. A whispered elegance follows us through greens, blues, the sunlit, and the breezy in bold minimalism of modern design synchronized with the wisdom of Vaastu.
We are shown through an arrangement of pathways, archways, column-less hallways, and the corridors of Hafeez Contractor’s brilliance right up to 6000 sq ft of our very personal floor. The beast of beauty stares back at us.
Knightsbridge. It becomes us.