Both John and Bim were convinced that the aesthetic and sense of design of Indian textile artisans were unique, and the need of the hour was to work with them to give their products a commercial outlet and due recognition and visibility. Fabindia began with this mission and succeeded spectacularly. Today it has some 250 retail outlets in around 90 cities across India, including 10 abroad, in chic cities like Rome and Dubai, and an annual turnover of well over a thousand crore.

The unique thing about Fabindia is that it was based on making its 90,000 artisans stakeholders in the company. This cooperative model, where hundreds of artisan clusters worked as partners with the company, has few more successful examples in the world. Over time, Fabindia expanded to include furniture, personal care products, organic food, ethnic jewellery, furnishing and crafts. Its sustainable business model has become the subject of study of leading global management institutes, and Harvard.

There must be hardly any middle-class Indian who has not, at some point or another, bought a kurta, a bandi, or some other product from Fabindia. The brand's uniqueness is that it offers originality, quality, and attractive designs at affordable prices. Bim was the indefatigable moving force behind the relentless expansion of the company. Her personal involvement with and knowledge of Indian handlooms and textiles—Chanderi, Sanganeri, or Banarasi—and her innate sense of good taste guided Fabindia to what it has become today.

But I must write something about Bim the person. My first remembrance of her is of an attractive woman dressed in a striking handloom sari wearing a great deal of silver jewellery. That was her trademark dress style, and she cut an attractive and distinctive presence in Delhi’s social circle. For some years now, I used to meet her every Sunday afternoon at the home of Deepak and Shobha Singh. Shobha and Deepak used to have two Bridge tables, one of Shobha’s four-some, and the other of Deepak’s. I used to play with Deepak, and Bim with Shobha. Bim was a competent and feisty player, who came in on a wheelchair and sat on it at the Bridge table. All the players would have tea together, which given Deepak and Shobha’s excellent hospitality, was quite an elaborate affair. This break was an occasion for animated discussions on a variety of subjects, including prominently, politics. Bim was an active participant and a good listener, making her point gently yet firmly, and always well-informed. This was not surprising. Bim had earlier worked as the social secretary to US ambassadors John Kenneth Galbraith and Chester Bowles; she had also worked for 21 years with the World Bank.

Alas, Deepak passed away a few months ago, and now Bim has also passed away. The quorum at Shobha’s place has shrunk.

Bim’s Christmas brunch was quite an institution in Delhi. It used to start around 8:30 am and go on well past lunch. The who’s who of Delhi was there in attendance. The menu was more than elaborate, including a full breakfast of eggs, sausages, bacon and baked beans, South Indian dosa, idli, sambhar, vada, North Indian fare of chhole bhature, puris, biryani, along with an entire range of desserts. Since I am not a brunch person, who can mix breakfast with lunch, the best part of the occasion for me—in spite of the mouthwatering food on offer—was the opportunity to meet so many friends in such a festive milieu, and have an excellent cup of coffee. Christmas lunch was invariably reserved for another very good friend, Satish Jacob of the BBC, and, in between, there had to be the mandatory stopover at the elaborate do at Arun Jaitley’s, a class-fellow from school.

Bim had a large circle of friends, and they will miss her hugely. The artisans who make up the Fabindia community have also been orphaned. Fortunately, William Bissell, Bim and John’s son is a business whiz and will ensure that Fabindia continues to flourish.

RIP Bim.