Celebrating Craft, Culture & Story with @deeparama_

Deepa carries a quiet devotion to the old ways — to cooking as ritual, craft as prayer, and slowness as a form of care. As the co-founder of Quiet Earth (@quiet.earth_), her work honours ancestral wisdom through handmade clay pots and the rhythms of home cooking, inviting us to return to presence in a world that often moves too fast. Whether tending a pot of Rasam or moving gently through her space, Deepa reminds us that healing lives in the everyday — in what we touch, what we wear, and how we choose to live.

Deepa wears our Bhoomi Maxi in Onyx

What does the ritual of cooking Rasam mean to you personally, and how has it connected you to your home, lineage, or childhood memories?

It warms my heart that you’ve mentioned it as the “ritual of cooking rasam” — because that’s exactly what it is. For me, making rasam feels like tending to both body and spirit. It’s a reminder that true medicine often begins in our own kitchens, in pots filled with love, intentionality, herbs and spices.

Whenever someone at home showed the first signs of a cold, a fever, or even a hint of body ache, rasam was our first aid. It healed our bodies with ease and brought such deep comfort to the heart.

Every special South Indian banana leaf meal would find rasam rice and crispy papadums as the third course — a combination of absolute perfection…with the flavours of garlic, cumin, pepper, coriander and tamarind… I remember making little cups with our right hand to drink it up. As a child learning to eat rasam rice without it spilling off the banana leaf was a skill worthy of showing off to your friends, siblings and cousins. That, I think, is the kind of grace one earns only through pure devotion to food.

Quiet Earth embodies such a grounded, soulful energy. What inspired you to begin selling handmade clay pots, and how does this craft reflect who you are?

It feels like divine destiny brought Cade and me together to work for Quiet Earth. We both hold deep faith in the power of slowness — a power that feels almost radical in a world where disconnection disguises itself as convenience.

For us, offering these handmade clay pots from traditional artisans around the world is nothing short of sacred. It’s our quiet act of rebellion, a way to restore reverence to the heart of the home, the kitchen. 

We believe cooking is not just about feeding the body, but about rekindling presence, care, and connection. Our ancestors never chased convenience; they lived in deep awareness. Their tools were chosen with care and their practices around food were rooted in respect for life.

Clay carries a kind of purity that modern materials rarely hold. Made only with hands, water, fire, and earth — it reminds us exactly what goes into it and what it gives back. How many of us can say the same for other cookware that currently sit on our kitchen shelves? Do we know how they were made, what went into it and what its effects are on our body?

In our clay pots, we see a reflection of consciousness — a reminder to live, cook, and create with reverence, for ourselves and for this Earth. 

Your pots feel deeply rooted in tradition yet so timeless. What does it mean to you to keep these traditional techniques alive in a modern world?

Keeping these traditional techniques alive feels like remembering something the soul already knows. It feels innate for me, like the truth. 

Cooking in clay pots, hand pounding spices, sitting on the floor to eat my meals with my hands grounds me — it connects me to the wisdom of the earth and to those who cooked, shared stories before me. It’s humbling and deeply human.

In a world that moves so fast, these traditions are so important, they invite slowness and stillness. They remind me about the power of presence and intentionality. 

Every pot is unique and while packing them for shipping to our customers, I am often amazed by the character, beauty and energy each pot carries. For me, continuing to keep these traditional techniques and artforms alive is an act of devotion — to ancestry, to the planet, and to the art of living slowly. It’s a way of saying we remember, we care, and we are still listening to the earth.

When you think about the women who inspire you — in your family, your community, or your craft — what qualities come to mind?

Of all the questions, this one is the hardest to put into words. I am deeply inspired by so many amazing women around me and they all carry so many inspiring traits and qualities that it's hard to put them into a succinct list. I often dream of writing a book about the women I look up to - from the women who’ve shaped my life like my Mum - Uma, to my first caretaker Sarasu Aaachi, to my sister Divya, to the women whose words and works are shaping the collective like Maya Angelo, Vandana Shiva, I have a never ending list.

When I think of the women who inspire me, I think of women who carry an unshakable knowing that love and care are forces of transformation. I also think they balance it with fierceness and the wisdom that flows through their stories, prayers, poetry, and gestures passed to the next generation.

Most of the women I look up to embody their eldership. They wear it with grace and grit. Through them, I’m reminded that strength and tenderness can co-exist. 

You wore our Jasmine Midi in Shell and Bhoomi Maxi in Onyx so beautifully. How did you feel in these pieces while cooking and moving through your space?

When I wore the beautiful clothes from Daughters of India, I felt an immediate sense of ease and comfort. Growing up, I would often hear my grandfather speak of Ayurvastra, much less known to the Western world, it is the Indian science of clothing, where fabric is experienced as medicine. Rooted in Ayurveda, it’s the art of using natural fibres, herbs, and dyes to support the body’s physical, emotional, and energetic wellbeing. He would talk about how our Ancestors understood that what touches our skin communicates directly with our energy. They wore garments with few or no stitches, sarees, dhotis alike — allowing the fabric to move freely with the body, unbroken, whole. In that simplicity was profound intelligence and harmony. Wearing these pieces felt like stepping into that memory. 

The fabric is so alive that it almost breathes with you. I felt grounded yet fluid, feminine yet strong. I felt confident. There was a deep comfort, an ease that reminded me how clothing, when made consciously can truly become a form of care. It is also such a special feeling to wear something handmade from my motherland.

And then, a small sadness washed through me, for how far modern fashion has drifted from this wisdom. In a world that's being taken over by polyester and fast fashion, these garments feel like a blessing, reminding me that just like our clay pots, there is yet another way healing can happen when we return to the old ways.

For many, Rasam is comfort in a bowl. What makes this recipe special to you, and what do you hope others feel when they make it?

What makes this rasam so special to me is its beautiful simplicity. There are countless ways to make it, every home, every region has its own recipe and way of making Rasam, yet this version feels so simple and timeless. 

It’s quick, forgiving, and somehow always turns out comforting and delicious, every single time I make it. I use whole spices, freshly pounded by hand, and temper them gently in ghee. That aroma alone feels like medicine - grounding, warming, and so good for the gut. 

To me, rasam is a reminder that healing doesn’t have to be complicated and that it's often within our reach. I hope when others make it, they feel the same sense of healing and nourishment — like the warmth of a hug in a bowl. 

Is there a message you’d love to share with women around the world who are reconnecting with tradition, slowness, or creativity?

I’d say — trust the slow path. Malidoma Patrice Some in his book “Ritual” says, one of the main differences between the Industrial world and the Indigenous world is “Speed”.
 
There’s so much wisdom in moving gently, in allowing life to unfold at its natural rhythm. Reconnecting with tradition, slowness and creativity is about remembering what’s always lived within us.

Our rituals, our crafts, our ways of tending were never meant to be rushed. They were born from presence and care. When we return to that, we begin to live in a healthy state of balance. 

To every woman finding her way back to these roots — what you create carries ancestral memory and healing. Each act of slowness, each moment of presence, is us finding our way back home.

You can learn more about Deepa and her art and practices at Quiet Earth.