TALE OF TWO CITIES

In Chennai, a pair of neighbouring apartments becomes a lyrical portrait of love, memory, and modern Indian living—where New York polish meets Mumbai warmth through the lens of contemporary craft.

Photo Courtesy - Jubin Johnson | Hansoga Photography

There’s no manual for building a home together, no clear way to fold two lives, two cities, and two stories into one address. Madras Gatsby, designed by Divya Khullar and Ashwath Narayanan of 1405 Design Studio, is one such act of quiet alchemy. Tucked within a 1990s apartment complex in Nungambakkam, Chennai, the home joins two neighbouring apartments to create a portrait of merged identities and new beginnings.

“Designing this home was a labour of love,” Divya smiles. The couple who live here brought distinct worlds with them: she, who had long called New York home; he, who grew up in Mumbai. The resulting design feels like both structure and sophistication, meeting warmth and expression, but filtered through a distinctly Indian lens. “It’s an ode to colliding worlds,” adds Ashwath. “The home had to reflect who they were before they met, and who they’ve become together.” It is a family sanctuary, where Art Deco grandeur meets New York’s eclecticism through Indian craftsmanship under one roof. 

The spatial journey begins at the entrance, a pivoting panel clad in bamboo weave on one side and Art Deco veneer on the other, a small but telling moment of duality. From there, a long walnut-lined corridor becomes the home’s heartbeat, connecting spaces that expand and contract through sliding doors. Light washes through the living, dining, and verandah zones, creating a rhythm between openness and retreat. It’s a house that can hold a dinner party one evening and cocoon three generations the next.

The living area feels cinematic but never formal, a mirrored column that disappears into reflection, a Rooshad Shroff chandelier shimmering overhead, and tones of olive, ochre, and suede playing against brass and walnut. The space doesn’t show off; it glows. The same quiet elegance spills into the dining room, where a marble table with a sculpted brass base and sapphire suede chairs sit under Bomma glass lights, watched over by a Jayasri Burman painting. Every element feels deeply considered, never ornamental.

The kitchen, with its Saint Laurent stone island edged in brass and detailed with Channapatna-inspired posts, tells a story of craft and adaptability. “Each bespoke element stands on its own yet belongs to the whole,” says Divya, and that’s true even here, where the island doubles as a coffee bar, baking counter, and study spot, depending on the hour.

Outside, the verandah becomes a breath, Mangalore tiles overhead, a bar console on one end, and a swing that invites long, idle afternoons. The family lounge, on the other hand, bursts into colour, teal mantles, a hand-painted table by the children, and a fuchsia Jaipur Rugs carpet that turns the room into pure joy. The bedrooms follow the home’s emotional grammar: deep navy and grey in the guest suite, calm oak in the second bedroom, and chalkboard walls and terrazzo chips in the children’s room, a mix of imagination and intent.

Madras Gatsby feels like someone’s story, quietly unfolding every day. The walls hold the echo of growing children, the smell of morning coffee drifts through the corridor lined in walnut, and the verandah swing still creaks in rhythm with the breeze. The light falls differently now, softer somehow, as if the house has settled into its own kind of calm.

It’s not the kind of home that tries too hard; it’s one that’s been lived into shape. Every scuff, every mark, every laugh that bounces off its walls feels like part of its design. And maybe that’s what makes it so special, it’s a home that grew with its people, not just for them.