Nivarika opened in 2026 with a single furnace in Firozabad and a stubborn conviction: that a glass you drink from every evening should be worth looking at. The name is new. The hands are not.
Firozabad has been a glassmaking town since the Mughal era, and the skill has passed down the way most Indian craft does — not through schools, but across a workbench, from someone who already knows to someone who is about to. The artisans who blow our stemware learned from their fathers. Two of them learned from their mothers.
We did not invent any of this. What we did was refuse to let it be replaced by a machine that could make a thousand identical tumblers an hour, and then find people willing to pay for the difference.
A mouth-blown flute takes about forty minutes of one person's attention, and roughly one in seven does not survive to the annealing oven. A hand-cut pattern is scored against a spinning wheel with no guide but the eye. A bangle is strung, checked, and re-strung until it sits right.
That is why our pieces are not the cheapest, and why we would rather tell you where the money goes than pretend the price is arbitrary. It buys somebody's time, and the years of practice standing behind it.
Glass leaves the furnace at around 1,100°C, the colour of a sunset and the consistency of honey. Everything that follows has to happen before it cools.
Breath and gravity do most of the work; the rest is a pair of hands that have done this ten thousand times. No two flutes come off the pipe identical, which is the point.
Pieces cool overnight in the lehr, one slow degree at a time. Rush it and the glass keeps the stress inside it, and cracks a year later in someone's kitchen.
Everything on the site right now came out of that furnace in our first year. There is no back catalogue and no warehouse behind it — each piece was made, checked and photographed within a few months of the studio opening.
Small batches are not a line we picked for the website. They are what one furnace and a handful of pairs of hands can actually make in a year.
When a piece here sells out, the next run is a decision rather than a reorder — a different night's work, a slightly different colour off the same recipe. The set you buy this year will not be exactly reproducible next year, and we would rather say so than pretend otherwise.
It also means you can ask us anything about a piece and get an answer from the person who watched it being made, which will not be true forever.
A faint seam where the pipe met the glass. A bangle a hair wider than its neighbour. A thickness that varies by a fraction across the base of a bowl. These are the fingerprints of the person who made it, and we have never seen a reason to sand them off.
See the collection