Rambagh Palace has hosted royalty. For one weekend in 2025, it hosted Tanish and Jahanvi — and we were there with every lens we own to document all of it.
The brief when we first met was simple: 'We want it to feel like a film.' Those are the best briefs. Not because they're specific about what they want — but because they trust you to decide how to get there. We arrived at Rambagh a day early, walked the grounds at sunset, and understood immediately why they'd chosen it. The palace doesn't compete with your wedding. It amplifies it.
Jahanvi's Haldi was held in the inner courtyard, with marigold garlands strung between the arches and a morning light that came in low and golden. She sat at the centre of it laughing — genuinely, helplessly laughing — as her cousins made a proper mess of the whole thing. It was the most joyful hour of the whole weekend.
"The light at Rambagh at golden hour is unlike anything else in India. We had twelve shots in those forty minutes. All twelve made it to the final album."
The wedding ceremony itself was on the lawn at dusk. Two hundred guests. A live orchestra. Jahanvi descended a staircase that had been lined with white jasmine, and the orchestra shifted key at exactly the right moment — planned, we found out later, entirely by Tanish. He'd arranged it three weeks before without telling anyone.
We spent the second day at the reception — a longer, more celebratory affair that gave us time to find the quieter moments inside the larger ones. Tanish's father during the speech. Jahanvi holding her mother's hand for a moment before the first dance. These are the frames that outlast the grandeur.
Two days at Rambagh with Tanish and Jahanvi. If we had to describe it in a single word, it would be: earned. Every moment felt like it had been waited for — and finally, completely arrived.
