Hi DemureDrapes...
"Swarnachari are regal, legacy saris from the stable of Balucharis. In yester years, each piece was almost akin to sculpting a rare piece of art and often handed over generations to be adorned on important occasions.
I have tried my best, telling the story of the Swarnachari as I saw with eyes and heart.
Thanks
Amrita...
Story of a Swarnachari...
"Maya and Me
"Don't touch me".
Who was that? A startled Maya turned around. Nobody ever came to this inner most boudoir. It was her grandma's. Now that she was no more, it was rarely opened, other than when her mom got it cleaned. She had come here today very excitedly because her mom just told her that she could wear her grandma's Swarnachari sari on her wedding day. Though there were three more equally beautiful saris, her parents had bought, she had begged her mom to let her wear her grandma's Swarnachari for the pheras.
Turning back again, she found no one there. So she tugged at the Swarnachari. " I said don't pull me like that". Maya slumped to the floor, pale with fear. " Who r you ? Why don't you reveal yurself".
"I'm your Swarnachari. I have been lying here peacefully for several years. Nobody dared to wake me up, without being gentle. You could have hurt me the way you pulled me. And by the ways...
Do u really want me to reveal my story?"
"Yes, yes, please do. I didn't mean to be rough. I'm sorry. It's just that I was so excited to see you. My grandmom looked an angel when you hugged her skin. My mom too glowed in your bright colors. I have always dreamt of you hugging me on my big day. So..."
" O.k. Then listen. Mine's a long story. I will cut it short for you.
When my yarns were ready to be woven, I heaved a sigh of relief. Readying the yarns had stretched me out. I was tired to my innards. It had been several days that the weavers stretched me to be ready for your grandma. I was being made specially for her and I found succour in that fact. So I lay stretched out, pulled at, day in and day out, for a couple weeks. You see, I had look beautiful. But the weavers at Bishnupur weren't done with me. They thought that I had to be softer. Can you believe it, I was boiled in a solution of soda & soap. Uhh. I don't even want to tell you how I felt then. And then!!!! I was put in acid to be dyed this rose color. So not fair!, Maya"
" Ooh, I'm sorry about that too. But I love your deep rose hue. Akash will swoon again , when he sees me draped by you. Just like on the first day he met me in our college canteen.
You know why? Even on that day, I was wearing a deep rose colored T. And he cud not take his eyes off me, " drooled Maya.
" What about these very special gold threads that run through me, contrasted by the shiny blacks? They too were made specially for your grandmom. Oh. How I remember her. Those wavy, silky tresses. Always neatly done when not open and flying gently in the breeze. She was such a beautiful lady. We were like, as they say, made for each other. On the day of her wedding, when everybody was besotted by her beauty, she shyly thanked me for making her look pretty. I was so happy for her. We talked to each other, radiant with joy. The rose in her cheeks and my rosiness, shyly merging with each other.
And your mom. I saw her from her birth. She was such a naughty child!"
"Really? I can't imagine mom naughty. She is always so correct. So disciplined. Patient. Caring...et al. ....huh.. I can't stop when it comes to mom," asked Maya surprisedly.
"Sweetheart, that's your mom now. Wish you had seen her as a kid. You are not a patch on her. But .....I kinda like your confidence, your clear thoughts. Your knowing your mind, with very few doubts. You are smart for the few years behind you."
" But before, I forget, I must tell you the rest of my story. You see this part of me, the pallu. Can you see, they tell you many stories. Stories from the grand epic Mahabharata. Stories that are still as relevant as then. Stories you must ponder on, at some point in your life. See here. It's when Krishna comes to speak to Karna, the great Angaraj that he was no sutaputra. He was the son of the mighty Surya & mother Kunti. And see just next to it. Kunti imploring Karna to desist from the battle and spare the lives of his brothers, the Pandavas. He was a great man, bravest of the braves. Yet he was bitter about being called a sutaputra. But imagine, he was floating in the river. Abandoned. And his charioteer dad, Adhirath and foster mother Radha took him to their home and loved him dearly. He rose to be king of Anga . Only if he had looked at the beneficence of Destiny and been more grateful, he would not have been on, what many believe, the wrong side of history. What a learning for us from a great life.
There's so much in these shimmering threads. Stories so eloquently woven, isnt it, Maya?
I love this part of mine. I'm not just your wedding sari, the Swarnachari. I'm your friend, philosopher & guide. Whenever you need me, I will take you in my folds. Come, let me hug you, cocooned by my motherly love, another young girl will start her greatest journey. It's my greatest joy."
Maya hugged Swarnachari. This time gently. She could ' feel' her grandma's love."
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