In the quiet corners of our home, where the morning sun filtered through old windows and the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and coffee, a beautiful tradition lived and breathed—Kolam. It wasn’t just a ritual; it was a prayer, a celebration, a way of life.
I was just a young 7th grader when I saw that rhythm break. My grandmother, the heart of our home, had recently undergone knee replacement surgery. Her mornings, once vibrant with the flowing movements of her Kolam designs, became still. I watched her sitting silently, her hands longing for the ground, her spirit weighed by helplessness. It was a sight that quietly tore through me.
One day, unable to bear her sadness, I picked up the maavu (rice flour) and knelt down. My fingers, unsure and trembling, tried to imitate the patterns I had watched a thousand times. The lines were crooked, the curves uneven. But when I looked up, her face glowed with pride and unspoken love. That single moment changed the course of my life—it was not just a Kolam drawn; it was a bond woven, a legacy ignited.
What began as a small act of love soon bloomed into an all-consuming passion. I didn’t want to just copy the designs; I wanted to understand them, breathe life into them, and tell new stories through every dot, every curve. I began experimenting, blending the rules of tradition with the spirit of innovation. Lines danced, symmetry sang, and slowly, my Kolams started carrying a piece of my soul.
Competing in Kolam competitions brought its own lessons. In rooms filled with seasoned artists—most of them women who had spent decades perfecting their craft—I often felt like an outsider. Doubt crept in. Was there space for someone like me? Could I ever belong to this sacred world? Yet, every time my Kolam won a smile, a nod of approval, or a gentle word of encouragement, I found the courage to continue.
Somewhere along the way, kind souls believed in me—sometimes louder than I believed in myself. Their faith built me, one quiet moment at a time. Even today, when I draw, I carry their invisible blessings in my hands.
But I wanted more for Kolam. I wanted it to leap off the floors and live in the modern world. To be seen not just as ritual art, but as something that could travel in a pocket, sit proudly on a desk, bring beauty to a wall, or inspire through a simple t-shirt. Kolam is not just for the ground—it deserves to be everywhere.
And so, Shammu Kolam Arts was born—out of love, hope, and a deep yearning to keep this ancient art alive and breathing in today’s fast-moving world.
From digital prints to handmade coasters, from festive backdrops to wearable memories, every creation is a tribute to that small boy who once picked up rice flour not to craft a masterpiece, but simply to bring back a smile to the woman he loved the most.
Today, with more than 7 years of dedication behind me, I continue this journey—with humility, gratitude, and a burning passion to ensure Kolam reaches every heart and every home.
Every Kolam I make carries with it a story of resilience, love, and the silent blessings of every elder who once knelt down in the early hours to draw dreams on the earth.
Services
I specialize in both traditional and contemporary Kolam designs, offered through handmade art and digital forms.
I provide Kolam for special occasions like Weddings, 60th and 80th Birthdays, 1st Birthdays, Ayush Homam, Grahapravesam, festive home celebrations, and more.
Our products range from coasters, keychains, frames, to custom home décor—blending cultural roots with fresh, modern creativity.
