Opinion | Rohit Bal And The Grandiosity Of Grief

“Irreparable loss,” the phrase that leapt out for this author from economist and author Bibek Debroy's last piece of public writing published posthumously, is one of the blandest cliches casually thrown around in obituaries. Debroy, in his characteristic sardonic humorist style, punched a hole in the vacuous loftiness of the phrase. Irreparable loss to whom and why?

When everything is superlative and exaggerated, including a show of emotions, what happens to the normal-sized sentiments? When everything is already campy, how do you express the loss of something that was really grand to begin with? Like Rohit Bal's creative convictions.

One of the pioneers of the Indian fashion industry as we know it today, Rohit Bal, is dead at 63, leaving behind a legacy of design sensibility that almost everyone admired and a persona that raised many an eyebrow. He seemed to care for neither and carried on regardless.

Bold, Just Like That

Bal's privileged family background allowed him to wade through the waters of uncertainty in a newly emerging industry in pre-liberalisation India. He launched his label in 1986 when fashion was still not seen as a viable business in the country and luxury was seen only through the prisms of the Western outlook of consumerism and the exclusive extravagance of royalty. One of the first graduates of the National Institute of Fashion Technology, Bal was able to blend creativity and business to lead the way for at least three generations of Indian fashion designers.

What set Bal apart from most of his peers and successors was his nonchalance about the risks he was taking. He was, for example, the first Indian fashion designer to start his restaurant. Veda was opened in 2005 in Delhi's Connaught Place. To understand the audacity of this venture, consider this: Beige Alain Ducasse by Chanel opened in Tokyo in 2004, his contemporaries Dolce and Gabbana launched their Martini Bar in Milan in 2003, and Ralph Lauren's restaurant opened its doors in Chicago in 1999. Bal's design icon, Giorgio Armani, was the trendsetter in this fashion-culinary crossover when he launched his first restaurant in Paris in 1998.

Couture Meets Affordability

Bal was also the first Indian fashion stalwart to start an exclusive line of childrenwear, ‘Bal Bachche', in 2021. He betted on the emergent guilt-ridden parenting style of urban India. If you cannot give your children time, give them beautiful clothes at least. Bal's business decisions, including collaborations where he lent his name to products, were an extension of his personality: do what you feel is the correct thing. Not everything he did worked out as expected, but that didn't deter him from either exploring new business ways to expand his brand of fashion or tirelessly working on what made his brand unique. He wasn't threatened by the dilution that pret brings to any couturier's oeuvre. The grandiosity of couture easily dovetailed into Bal's more affordable clothes without reducing them to a pastiche.   

Debroy's last published essay examined whether obituaries mean anything at all. “There are lives my life has touched, improved, even bruised. If they get to know, they may remember, with fondness and bitterness. Such people don't write obituaries.” In Bal's case, the obituaries and tributes are pouring in from people who are out there on society pages. Who's to tell whether the grief is real, manufactured, or imagined? In all the accounts, though, what shines through is Bal's irrepressible personality. A man who gave his all to things, ideas, and people that mattered.

Fashion Over Business

For many growing up during the turn of the millennium, Bal was iconic. Even those who did not know about his lotuses and peacocks knew, or at least speculated, about his love life. As if it was any of anyone's business. What he was doing back then for the indigenous handicraft traditions of Kashmir by catapulting them into a viable business scene through global visibility should have become everyone's business. Bal started the trend of diaphanous anarkalis, jalabiyas, and lehengas, which required a lot of fabric. The weavers benefitted from this. 

Bal was often frustrated by how the Indian fashion scene was marred by cult worship and herd mentality. He was one of those few in the fashion business who actually cared more for fashion and less for business. He was aware that a large chunk of his “fans” were more interested in his personal life than in his designs. He was, however, conscious of the doors that his celebrity opened and acknowledged the same in many of the few interviews he gave.

Bal's growing cynicism around the fashion world went hand in hand with his growing commitment to creativity. Despite his health issues, he wanted to do more and more—like adding layers to his unisex skirts. Only those in his innermost circle may be able to shed light on this contradiction. And that can happen only when the grandiosity of grief subsides. 

(Nishtha Gautam is a Delhi-based author and academic.)

Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author