BRK Bommana Rajkumar's Shopping Mall

BRK Bommana Rajkumar's Shopping Mall From the house of Bommana Raj Kumar, discover elegant sarees. Visit us on the main road Rajahmundry.

To the one who made ordinary days feel safe, and life’s chaos feel a little softer— Happy Mother’s Day.In your quiet w...
10/05/2026

To the one who made ordinary days feel safe,
and life’s chaos feel a little softer—
Happy Mother’s Day.
In your quiet ways, in the smallest gestures,
you built a world I’ll always belong to.
Thank you for being our home, always.🤍

A day where nothing diminishes—only grows. On Akshaya Tritiya, every beginning carries quiet abundance, every offering b...
19/04/2026

A day where nothing diminishes—only grows. On Akshaya Tritiya, every beginning carries quiet abundance, every offering becomes a lasting blessing, and every intention is held gently by time, unfolding into something infinite. 🪷

Green Banarasi silk spills like monsoon vines over balcony rails, zari horses galloping wild across its folds. Woman cra...
16/04/2026

Green Banarasi silk spills like monsoon vines over balcony rails, zari horses galloping wild across its folds. Woman cradles it close, laugh lighting her eyes—jhumkas sway, bangles catch latticed light. 🎠

This isn’t just cloth; it’s Varanasi’s breath woven tight, gold threads telling tales of looms that hum through nights. Draped, it moves with her—elegant twist, a rustle of forests reborn.

Saree holds secrets of rivers and festivals, turning every step to poetry, every glance to gold.✨

Sisters multiply in mirror and memory—orange saree bold as dawn, green Kanjeevaram flowing like young leaves, pink silk ...
15/04/2026

Sisters multiply in mirror and memory—orange saree bold as dawn, green Kanjeevaram flowing like young leaves, pink silk peeking playful. ✨

On terraces, they lean close, jada blooms in hair, arms linked in laughter’s ease. Stairwells witness purple and
blue draped in easy sway, bangles chiming secrets. Sarees become their language—silk sentences of bond, zari punctuation of joy.

Women don’t just wear these yards; they live them, turning faded walls into stages, mirrors into confidants. Six yards hold more than cloth: whispers, giggles, the unbreakable thread between them. 🌞

Brass hums old songs beside purple petals half-dreaming in terracotta, roses spilling crimson hearts into copper bowls. ...
14/04/2026

Brass hums old songs beside purple petals half-dreaming in terracotta, roses spilling crimson hearts into copper bowls. White rice mounded like fresh snowfalls,
wooden toys carved with ancestors’ patience stand guard on etched tables.

This is ritual’s quiet heart—metal memory meeting flower’s fleeting sigh. A saree slips in like the missing verse, silk cradling jasmine’s breath, zari winking back at brass glow. Petals pressed into weave, blooms bound eternal—saree becomes the bloom that doesn’t fade,
threading nature’s soft decay into enduring drape.

Flowers fade, vessels endure; together with silk, they whisper life’s full circle.

Sapphire blue silk unfurls against pillar shadows, red zari borders blazing like festival torches climbing the pallu. Go...
13/04/2026

Sapphire blue silk unfurls against pillar shadows, red zari borders blazing like festival torches climbing the pallu. Gold paisleys nestle in the weave, heavy as monsoon promises.

She pauses mid-stride, necklace swinging, hair blooming with a bloom, arms crossed in quiet command. The drape is regal yet restless, fringes sweeping wood stairs like whispers of gongs. Mood lingers poised—half-shadowed glance that promises depths.

This saree is ocean met flame, blue calm pierced by red
fire, crafted for women who step like they own the light.

Emerald Banarasi silk catches window light like forest after rain, golden deer leaping across the weave—zari butas alive...
08/04/2026

Emerald Banarasi silk catches window light like forest after rain, golden deer leaping across the weave—zari butas alive with Varanasi’s ancient rhythm. 🌞

She leans into peeling walls, pallu cascading free, bangles orange against green depth. Borders thick as riverbanks hold the flow, fringe brushing faded sills. Mood is wild poise, that half-turn glance holding mischief and memory.

This isn’t tame cloth; it’s a safari in silk, motifs running untethered, calling you to roam its patterns. Draped loose, it moves with her—breath of Banaras in every sway.🪷

Thank you .rajichowdary for choosing BRK Silks—seeing you draped in our weave feels like coming home. ✨The silk kisses y...
05/04/2026

Thank you .rajichowdary for choosing BRK Silks—seeing you draped in our weave feels like coming home. ✨

The silk kisses your skin, carrying Devanga ancestors’ hands in every thread, their quiet devotion now yours to wear. Pallu falls grateful, zari glinting like shared secrets, turning ordinary moments sacred. We’re humbled you carry our legacy forward, a walking poem of craft and care.

From our looms to your grace—endless thanks.🙏

Blue silk like midnight river, edged in fiery red zari that climbs the pallu like temple creepers heavy with marigold. S...
04/04/2026

Blue silk like midnight river, edged in fiery red zari that climbs the pallu like temple creepers heavy with marigold. She leans into carved pillars, necklace swaying
gentle, hair pinned with a single bloom. 🌷

The drape falls full, borders thick as promises—gold weaving stories into every fold. Mood is poised mystery, that half-smile holding secrets of nights yet to unfold. No stark lights; just shadows playing on silk, turning her into silhouette of grace.

This saree commands quietly, blue depth calling to the bold red fringe, a canvas for women who wear their worlds woven close.✨

Address

10-1-8/1, Pushkar Ghat Road, Kottagumam, Main Rd
Rajahmundry
533101

Opening Hours

Monday 10am - 9pm
Tuesday 10am - 9pm
Wednesday 10am - 9pm
Thursday 10am - 9pm
Friday 10am - 9pm
Saturday 10am - 9pm
Sunday 10am - 9pm

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