The Traditional Robe.
Soniyas wedding preparations are reaching a crescendo. It's an experience of a lifetime. The Troupe, sorry cohort that's going to do a kind of "flash mob" furiously practices to the pulsating music. The gyrations, the steps, the dance moves really inspires even people like me with two left feet to shake a leg. The energy, the cheer, the frolic really makes practice sessions add pep and zing to the ambience. Then there is the never ending shopping, which is the chorus line of this wedding song. Each activity is either preceded or followed by shopping. I never realized, it requires so much dedication,perseverance, resilience and stamina. An important part of the wedding preparation is getting the brides ensemble. It would be utter humiliation or blasphemy,to restrict it to being called just a bridal wardrobe. The Ensemble as I prefer to call it, comprises of different genres, depending on the occasion for which it is to be donned. To quote, a few,- Lehenga, Indo- western, traditional, western......... The list surely goes on.
The traditional Saree is one of the most stylish of all attires. It drapes completely, and yet has a subtle sensuality, an elegance that's stately. Draping a saree is an art, that needs to be perfected. The bridal saree is an attire that includes an accessory, that is supposed to drape the bride's shoulders as she makes her way to the altar. It is like a shawl, - called 'Shela' but much more ornate and lush, hand embroidered with gold threads,appliques and truly is a resplendent robe.
Medha tells me, that she wants me to escort her when she carries this robe for getting it polished. I baulked. Garments to be polished?
She tells me that this particular 'Shela' was almost a 100 years old, worn by Medha's grandmother. As she pulls it out of a neatly wrapped packing, i can't help marvel at this heirloom. It has a rich, maroon color, with the feel and appearance of royalty. Its borders, called 'Kaath' almost 10 inches broad are braided with gold thread. The weave, and the workmanship is exquisite. A piece of art, that's stood the test of time. I can't help marveling at the artisans, who crafted this masterpiece nearly a century ago. A machine made fabric, might be faultless, but it doesn't have the distinctive human touch, that transforms mere fibre to a piece of cultural extravaganza.
She tells me, she has found a person, who will hand polish this robe, without damaging a single thread. That sounds really impossible. The only snag is that to reach his place, we might have to traverse some really shady localities and therefore, my services as a bouncer are solicited.
I agree, and we set off right into the heartland of Pune, which is almost unapproachable. We reach a spot, where we abandon our vehicle and hoof through the extremely narrow lanes. Mofussil, archaic, Pune. Almost like having walked through a time machine. Small houses, rather dwellings, where one has to almost crawl to enter, small one feet wide staircases to reach the upper level, duck down almost genuflect, to reach the artisan who will be restoring the garment.
We eventually meet him. He looks at us, with a rather annoyed expression, but then his eyes light up when we show him the Shela. He takes it in his hand, and one can almost sense the connoisseur in him caressing the fabric and leching at the workmanship. He studies it carefully, and spontaneously utters some words in an unknown but appreciative jargon.
He says, he will need a week to painfully polish the garment inch by inch carefully avoiding any inadvertent damage to the underlying fabric. I am a Surgeon and can appreciate the dexterity that is required to execute a task of this magnitude and complexity.
We finalize the charges, which are quite reasonable, considering the highly skilled task he has on hand. We request him to be careful, as he is handling not just a garment, but a piece of our family history. A legacy, that will be passed on, a tradition that will be perpetuated, by Soniya.
We are just transient instruments, links in this chain of transmission, of performing sanctifying rituals, taking solemn vows, that ensure propagation of the the tribe and it's rich, enriching culture.
The fitting finale was to indulge in some lip smacking authentic Muglai Street food. The flavors were truly surreal. My taste buds explode in ecstacy as we make our way back to our car, with a hope that Arif will restore not just the garment, but also the faith that we reposed in his hands.
Soniyas wedding preparations are reaching a crescendo. It's an experience of a lifetime. The Troupe, sorry cohort that's going to do a kind of "flash mob" furiously practices to the pulsating music. The gyrations, the steps, the dance moves really inspires even people like me with two left feet to shake a leg. The energy, the cheer, the frolic really makes practice sessions add pep and zing to the ambience. Then there is the never ending shopping, which is the chorus line of this wedding song. Each activity is either preceded or followed by shopping. I never realized, it requires so much dedication,perseverance, resilience and stamina. An important part of the wedding preparation is getting the brides ensemble. It would be utter humiliation or blasphemy,to restrict it to being called just a bridal wardrobe. The Ensemble as I prefer to call it, comprises of different genres, depending on the occasion for which it is to be donned. To quote, a few,- Lehenga, Indo- western, traditional, western......... The list surely goes on.
The traditional Saree is one of the most stylish of all attires. It drapes completely, and yet has a subtle sensuality, an elegance that's stately. Draping a saree is an art, that needs to be perfected. The bridal saree is an attire that includes an accessory, that is supposed to drape the bride's shoulders as she makes her way to the altar. It is like a shawl, - called 'Shela' but much more ornate and lush, hand embroidered with gold threads,appliques and truly is a resplendent robe.
Medha tells me, that she wants me to escort her when she carries this robe for getting it polished. I baulked. Garments to be polished?
She tells me that this particular 'Shela' was almost a 100 years old, worn by Medha's grandmother. As she pulls it out of a neatly wrapped packing, i can't help marvel at this heirloom. It has a rich, maroon color, with the feel and appearance of royalty. Its borders, called 'Kaath' almost 10 inches broad are braided with gold thread. The weave, and the workmanship is exquisite. A piece of art, that's stood the test of time. I can't help marveling at the artisans, who crafted this masterpiece nearly a century ago. A machine made fabric, might be faultless, but it doesn't have the distinctive human touch, that transforms mere fibre to a piece of cultural extravaganza.
She tells me, she has found a person, who will hand polish this robe, without damaging a single thread. That sounds really impossible. The only snag is that to reach his place, we might have to traverse some really shady localities and therefore, my services as a bouncer are solicited.
I agree, and we set off right into the heartland of Pune, which is almost unapproachable. We reach a spot, where we abandon our vehicle and hoof through the extremely narrow lanes. Mofussil, archaic, Pune. Almost like having walked through a time machine. Small houses, rather dwellings, where one has to almost crawl to enter, small one feet wide staircases to reach the upper level, duck down almost genuflect, to reach the artisan who will be restoring the garment.
We eventually meet him. He looks at us, with a rather annoyed expression, but then his eyes light up when we show him the Shela. He takes it in his hand, and one can almost sense the connoisseur in him caressing the fabric and leching at the workmanship. He studies it carefully, and spontaneously utters some words in an unknown but appreciative jargon.
He says, he will need a week to painfully polish the garment inch by inch carefully avoiding any inadvertent damage to the underlying fabric. I am a Surgeon and can appreciate the dexterity that is required to execute a task of this magnitude and complexity.
We finalize the charges, which are quite reasonable, considering the highly skilled task he has on hand. We request him to be careful, as he is handling not just a garment, but a piece of our family history. A legacy, that will be passed on, a tradition that will be perpetuated, by Soniya.
We are just transient instruments, links in this chain of transmission, of performing sanctifying rituals, taking solemn vows, that ensure propagation of the the tribe and it's rich, enriching culture.
The fitting finale was to indulge in some lip smacking authentic Muglai Street food. The flavors were truly surreal. My taste buds explode in ecstacy as we make our way back to our car, with a hope that Arif will restore not just the garment, but also the faith that we reposed in his hands.
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