Counting all the pink stuff I owned was pretty easy but I never knew counting threads would be so terrible and would ultimately become a part of my life. I had a nightmare during my summer vacations that I hadnâ€™t completed my weaving assignment and I was feeling awful, but I didnâ€™t know it was just a teaser, the real horror still awaited me. Weaving is a real patience-gaining exercise and I will prove you that – just keep on reading.
It all started when I, along with my classmates stepped into the weaving lab with anxiety and confusion. We started off with warping in which we had to go really crazy, going round and round around the warp bed and collecting the warp with a compulsory cross in between. According to our dear Master Sahab, â€œ Cross ana zaroori hai warna dhaagay aesay uljhain gain kay kabhe alaag nahin hungain. â€
And then it was reeding, sitting on the floor like poor people earning for their bread and butter, picking a pair of thread very carefully as if they were made of delicate glass. Inserting the needle in each dent and pulling two threads at a time, and the dents are so tightly packed as if they were all in love with each other. I havenâ€™t seen anything so closely held, even you teeth might have more space for the bacteria to settle in but in case of dents, hah, hard luck.
Till reeding, life was at peace and we all were happy, singing and dancing, unaware about the storm that was gaining strength. The horror that was waiting for us to come to it was none other than Heddling. I am absolutely sure that if you can go through this process then you are a man with at least 50% God-gifted patience, no kidding.
When heddling was over, we collected enough energy and zeal to go on, and since we had already boarded the ship, we do rather fight the storm. So this time it was sweet little reeding again, and finally weaving of the actual fabric started off. We did plain, twill, double twill and basket weaves in different colours. I am telling you that weaving itself is pretty easy, only its preparation is hell, and since we donâ€™t have an any airconditioning in our so spacious weaving lab, its sure to make you all sweaty wet.
We seldom have our usual conversation since our tongue is busy with some of these sentimental statements:
â€œMaster Sahab, mai ney ek dent miss kardi, kya karoun main ab?â€
â€œMaster Sahab, Sir Shamoon kahan hain?â€
â€œUffff, my back aches like anything, im gonna get old before ageâ€
â€œWat did I do in my past, my dear lord? Why am I getting this sort of punishment?â€
â€œMaster Sahab, adhar ayain, mera shed nahin ban raha, aap ke loom kharb hain!!!â€
â€œMaster Sahab, weaving mai mistake hugaein hai, koi shortcut baatain, mujhay pher se nahin karna.â€
I am sure by now you must have realized that weaving is not an easy job, it becomes a piece of cake when you have the enthusiasm and energy like us, designers. But to be very honest, I felt empathy for the people whose living is based on handloom weaving. I realized the value of a mere piece of cloth and why all these khaadi people charge so much.
P.S. Donâ€™t take the pictures seriously; our class is one happy family, always smiling whenever someone is taking a picture, regardless of the amount of pain inside us. 🙂