About Biya Decor

Long before “Biya Decor” existed as a name, our family was already elbow-deep in fabric. My grandfather worked in curtain and sofa fabric production at a time when the trade was taught hand to hand, not learned from a manual. There was no shortcut. You watched, you practiced, you made mistakes on real fabric, and eventually you understood what separated a curtain that hung beautifully for ten years from one that sagged and faded within one.

That knowledge passed to my father, Raja Ayub, who built it into a full manufacturing operation. He didn’t inherit a business — he inherited a skill, and turned that skill into one. Over the decades, he became known in the trade not just as a producer of curtain and sofa fabrics, but as someone who trained others. Dozens of people who worked alongside him went on to open their own fabric businesses and manufacturing units, using what they learned under his guidance.

That’s not something we mention to sound impressive. It’s simply true, and it’s a part of the business we’re quietly proud of, because in an industry where people often guard their knowledge, my father shared his. I’ve heard him say, more than once, that teaching someone a trade properly doesn’t take anything away from you — it just means the trade survives. That attitude shaped how I was raised to think about this business, and it still shapes how we treat customers today: we’d rather explain why a fabric works than simply sell it to you and move on.

I grew up inside that world. Not visiting it occasionally — living in it. Bolts of fabric stacked in the workshop were part of the furniture of my childhood, and the smell of new fabric coming off a production run is still, to this day, a smell that feels like home to me. I sat through conversations about thread counts and weave durability before I understood most of the words. I watched customers walk in with a swatch and a vague idea, and walk out with curtains that transformed a room. I saw fabric get rejected on the production floor because the weight wasn’t right, even when it looked perfectly fine to an untrained eye — and I learned, slowly, what my father and the older workers were actually seeing that I wasn’t.

There were slow years and busy years. There were customers who knew exactly what they wanted and customers who needed to be walked through every option twice. There were mistakes on the production floor that got caught before they left the building, and lessons about why they happened that stuck with everyone in the room. None of that is the kind of thing you can learn from a textbook or a supplier’s spec sheet. It’s the kind of understanding that only comes from being present for it, year after year.

By the time I was old enough to think seriously about a career, I already had one. I understood fabric selection, manufacturing stages, quality inspection, customer requirements, and installation — not from a course, but from years of standing next to people who did it for a living. Biya Decor was my way of taking that inheritance and building something of my own on top of it, while keeping the same standards my father and grandfather never let anyone in the workshop compromise on.