There are very few things in life that match the sheer elegance, appeal, and even the cultural legacy of a handwoven Jamdani saree. Yes, it may sound strange to you, but what I’m saying, is from the perspective of someone who’s known these sarees closely. They have an inextricable part of my childhood and formative years in a small town in West Bengal, near Kolkata. Wondering how? I’ll take the liberty to go just a little into my story if you, the reader, are interested.
My Association with Handwoven Jamdani Sarees:
Picture the tick, tick, tick sound made by a loom and you’ll figure out the musical backdrop to my childhood years. Much of my evenings (after school) were spent in the second room in our humble one-storied house, reading, drawing, playing, or simply staring into space. I did all this as my father worked painstakingly on the loom, weaving what he called magic. It is this magic that I learnt to associate the fabric in question. One day, when I was about 6-7 years old, I finally asked my hardworking father, what is this called Baba? Pat came the answer from a busy man who was taking his sole meal break for the day (he used to work for almost 16-18 hours each day)- Jamdani.
Ever since, the musical interlude of the word has stayed in my mind. That’s not the only thing that’s stayed. Today, when I’ve grown up, studied till my Master’s, learnt good English (all thanks to my hardworking parents), and work at a company in Kolkata, these small bits have still remained with me. For me, handwoven Jamdani sarees are not just the glamorous, appealing, and historically rich treasures that are sold across the world. For me, they represent that hum of the loom, the dusty, cramped, and hot room, my father’s occasional throat rumble as he strained over the loom, his tired eyes trying to stay sharp after another long day, the drops of sweat on the floor, the scent of my father as I embraced him and said goodnight (smelt of hard work as I realize now).
Later on, I understood how skilled my father actually was. His nimble fingers worked the looms deftly, and he was highly regarded by several boutiques and companies who employed his services. I still remember how it took at least 2-3 weeks for one basic Jamdani to be made, and even more at times, for special orders. But of course, it’s handwoven Jamdani that I have to thank for my education, our barebones but decent life together, and for the opportunities that my father shaped out of his own hands.
Then the Downfall Struck:
See, the history and rich traditions of handwoven Jamdani sarees is beyond question. The sheer skill, painstaking craftsmanship, and dedication required to make each piece is unmatched. It is slow and sustainable fashion at its best, as I realize today, while helping preserve these traditional techniques and keeping artisan communities like ours alive. I knew it up close; however, all of a sudden, my father’s main order providers bolted on him some years back. They were apparently tired of the handloom story, and wanted something that was cheaper and would sell faster. Kind of like almost everything today that was once regarded as art, right? But I’m getting emotional and idealistic again (I’m only 24 after all).
With my father out of work and my mother facing a medical emergency, it was my job that kept us afloat. With time, however, I began to think of another way. I don’t know how-it just came to my mind one day. There is this highly skilled cousin of mine who also works in the very same space, but he did not have any literal space to work anymore, after his employer shifted shop to another town. Why don’t you and him work together? I asked my father one weekend when I was home from Kolkata. It took a lot of convincing both parties to get them on the same page. But who would give them work? That’s when another lucky opportunity fell into my lap.
How We Turned the Corner:
I work in Kolkata’s IT hub area and one day, we were chatting in the office canteen, when a colleague casually mentioned a name I hadn’t heard before- Tamal Boutique. She said that she was very happy with their Indian handlooms and how they promoted sustainable and slow fashion. The words kept turning over in my mind for a few days, before I suddenly mustered up some courage and went to find them. It helped that their boutique was quite near my workplace.
It was that chance meeting that led to our long association with them (quite some time now). The rest, as they say, is history. I won’t go into details of what transpired at that meeting. But I can say that here was finally a brand that gave my father a chance, checked out what we had to offer, and finally went ahead with my newly-assembled two-member family team. Today, our house has two more floors, with one reserved for handwoven Jamdani work. More orders are pouring in; there are now 5-6 people at any given time. My father seems happy enough and so does Tamal Boutique.
So, the next time you think- what’s all the big hype about Indian handlooms, what’s all this about legacy, quality, and so on- remember me and my story. Jamdani sarees are indeed an incredible story from the loom to a legacy that is India’s pride. It’s mine too, seeing as it’s intertwined with my legacy as well. As for Tamal Boutique, they’re clearly on a mission to promote, revive, and encourage Indian handlooms and traditional crafts. You know, honestly, thank you is too small a phrase to use as far as they’re concerned!