19/03/2023
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WHEN LUXURY CAME HOME (Part II of III)
Every Spring & Autumn marked two stout gentlemen from Banaras coming home. In their crisp white kurtas, with potlis of one-of-a-kind, textiles. Gossamer muslins in the summer and glistening silks with pure gold zari in the winter. In a kaleidoscope of colours, freshly handwoven from their small karkhanas. Elegant Rangkats - a crossover of colour-blocked yarns, diaphanous muslin Jamdanis - light-weight like woven air, and Brocades - in scalding crimson, hot pink & canary yellow with motifs of fruit and flora – a cultural crossover from Persia.
And the ultimate, the Shikargah – a handwoven canvas of a hunting scene on a saree - in a muted Pewter Grey or English Blue. These weren’t textiles, these were stories painstakingly woven on the finest cottons and silks. There were no textiles akin to these perhaps in the world.
And the presentation was enthralling. The gentlemen took one saree out at a time, draped it on themselves, tucking it around their rotund stomachs, dramatically throwing it over their shoulders to show you the pallu. Posing in their masculine bodies with sheer élan. A performance. And the ladies sat sipping hot tea, gently sighing under their breath. And you spied that discreet nod, every now and then, to put a piece aside. Or heard detailed instructions on an order, woven to their specifications, with just the right shade of peach they desired.
But then that is how erstwhile families in India lived. As patrons of the finest in art, jewellery, textiles, stone sculpture, metallurgy, carpets, silver, copper and spices. Traders from the North extending to the Hindu Kush mountains and up to Iran in Central Asia, cherry-picked old families, and came home to them. With treasures that make auctions houses blush today. And the relationship between the seller and buyer, became not merely about a sale. It was one of a true seeker and patron. That was luxury.
From a chapter in the extraordinary ‘Sublime India’ by Visionnaire.
Image courtesy: Frank Horvat, 1950s
