Saree: Mul Cotton
On a sultry, humid afternoon, while mentally evaluating the pros and cons of taking a nap, I discovered a small piece of paper sticking out of my saree cupboard. Propelled by my self-proclaimed ocd, I sprang up to put whatever that was into its place.
And, that’s when I discovered it first. The Saree Diaries! Yes, a diary that the sarees in my cupboard kept. Difficult to believe? Come on people, grow down a little! After all, no harm ever came from good old imagination. So, read on to know how the sarees went dear diary with all their hearts!
Entry number one-
Saree: Mul Cotton
I’m tired. But, good tired. What with the new baby coming in, I have had to work double shifts as a saree as well as a cradle for the baby. Made me get all fuzzy and warm thinking of my own baby days. Which was not very long ago by the way.
I remember the first sight I ever saw as a baby. The weaver and his family having what I realised was the only meal of their day after setting aside their day’s work (us) on shelves. How I wish I was a human and had two hands to actually give them a hug. They were the only kind of mom and dad I knew. So, there began my fondness for hugs. Yeah baby, big hugger right here.
They were discussing about sending me to the dyeing unit. Apparently, they were going to dip me in colour that would stick to me for life. I couldn’t wait to find out what my colour was. Generally, sarees of different colours end up together in a wardrobe. Isn’t that exciting? I was already looking forward to meeting other colours. I wonder why humans don’t get excited to see other colours of humans. Instead, they get uncomfortable. Some of them get judgemental! Why?
So, coming back to the dyeing process. Back then I dint know about all the colours that were out there. But, now that I have seen a lot of other coloured sarees, I’m amazed! There is sky blue, there is earthy brown, there are just almost all colours that one can imagine. I can’t help but admire the various artisans involved in creating a saree, not to mention their dedication. It usually takes a minimum of seven days to weave one saree on a handloom and then to start the dyeing process. In retrospect, my respect for them has only grown after learning that they were some of the very few weavers who still used handlooms instead of power-looms. While I have seen some awe-inspiringly beautiful people (in mirrors and otherwise), I must say these people who are living simple lives close to nature while unflinchingly holding on to their core values are the most beautiful people I have seen till now, hands down. Sniff, I miss them.
So, back to the present. The baby I spoke about is the great-grand daughter of the human who bought me at a store in Mumbai. That granny was one cool human. She was the kind of human whose colours only seemed to get richer with every wash.
Oh how I wept the day she passed on. I was thanking heavens that I was out on the terrace and it was raining. I mean, who wants to let people see them cry? I hear the baby crying. Oh yeah, there are babies. No care in the world. Wont care whether people see them cry or chuckle or burp, do they? How happy they look! I wonder why then that people say “don’t be such a baby”. As if that’s a bad thing. Hmph, funny humans.
Wait, the wailing is getting louder. I think my work as a cradle is about to start again. Well, see you later diary.