{"id":2576,"date":"2019-08-04T11:17:34","date_gmt":"2019-08-04T05:47:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?p=2576"},"modified":"2019-08-04T11:21:16","modified_gmt":"2019-08-04T05:51:16","slug":"the-bidai-saree","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/the-bidai-saree\/","title":{"rendered":"The Bidai Saree"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p style=\"text-align:center\"><strong>TEXT BY SONA SINGH<br>PHOTOGRAPHS BY AANCHAL MALHOTRA <br><\/strong><em><strong>New Delhi, India <\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Over\nthe years, I have been trying to piece together and understand the life and\ntimes of my long deceased grandmother, Chandrika Devi, through stories and\nanecdotes of the people who once knew her. I have performed this exercise\nalmost ritualistically since my childhood, for I always felt like I missed out\nmaking memories with my parental grandparents, as other children my age often\ndid. Having never known my grandparents in their lifetime, I would try to\nbefriend them in their death, conjuring up scenarios. While coming up with\nimages of <em>Baba<\/em> was easy as there were\nquite a few photographs of him around the house, invoking my grandmother, <em>Mama<\/em> would often end in failure. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>What\ncan I say about the woman whose only memory for me is a grainy black and white\nphotograph? Perhaps that she loved <em>ittar<\/em>;\nor that two of her children died in their infancy. I can say that she was\nconfined to the bed with asthma after the birth of her youngest son, my father.\nAnd I can say that her eldest son and she would often indulge in <em>paan, zarda,<\/em> <em>hookah, <\/em>and cigarettes together, after he got back from work in the\nevenings in Calcutta. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Chandrika Devi or <em>Kakka<\/em> as everyone fondly called her was born in a well-to-do family in village Chandpura in the Vaishali district in Bihar. Chandrika was bequeathed a huge dowry upon marriage and her wedding trousseau was the talk of the village. Fourteen years after her sudden demise (in 1968) when my grandfather got the servants to bring the boxes containing her belongings down from the attic in 1982, they found that the clothes inside had decayed and the only traces of what remained of her possessions was the putrid smell of fabric that had grown musty owing to years of constant neglect. And so, for as long as I could remember, I hoped there to be something, anything else apart from the black and white photo that I could associate with her. <br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-gallery columns-3 is-cropped wp-block-gallery-2 is-layout-flex wp-block-gallery-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Blouse-2-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2580\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2580\" class=\"wp-image-2580\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Blouse-2-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Blouse-2-450x600.jpg 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1662-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2581\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2581\" class=\"wp-image-2581\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1662-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1662-450x600.jpg 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Blouse-1-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2582\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2582\" class=\"wp-image-2582\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Blouse-1-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Blouse-1-450x600.jpg 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p><br>A few years ago, I serendipitously came across an old box that contained a motley group of items like property papers, a silver <em>ittardaan<\/em>, a few pieces of fabric and two banarasi blouses that had belonged to her. Recently, I also chanced upon a banarasi saree and its matching chadar that were in the possession of my aunt, along with an accompanying tale of love and blood. My aunt, Neelam, tells me that this silk banarasi saree had been a gift to Chandrika Devi from my grandfather\u2019s side and she wore it at her <em>bidai<\/em>, when she left her father\u2019s home for her husband\u2019s. Since Chandrika Devi\u2019s eldest daughter died of snakebite, Neelam, the first to get married, inherited the saree and wore it and the chadar during her own <em>bidai<\/em>, bringing the tradition beautifully full-circle. As Chandrika Devi died soon afterwards, Neelam never wore this garment again, wrapping it securely in mulmul cloth and keeping it ensconced between layers of clothes inside a Godrej almirah for years. Later, Neelam\u2019s daughter Rangila wore the chadar in her wedding as a blessing from the <em>nani<\/em> long passed. Most recently, almost 40 years since my grandmother\u2019s death, my mother decided to borrow this heirloom saree and wear it for my brother\u2019s wedding. For her, this gesture was a way to connect to the mother-in-law she had never met but whose blessings she sought fervently. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This was when I first saw the saree and chadar and fell irrevocably in love with the garments. It was also the time when I realized that one of the blouses that had been found in a box a few years ago had been the original set that came with this saree. As both my grandmother and aunt were different sizes, it appears that while Neelam got the saree and chadar, its blouse was kept in a box and long forgotten, only to be found years later. While in a decrepit condition, the blouse is a living embodiment of the fashion sensibilities of how women in the early 1930s liked their garments to be stitched. <br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-gallery columns-1 is-cropped wp-block-gallery-3 is-layout-flex wp-block-gallery-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"768\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1629-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2585\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2585\" class=\"wp-image-2585\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1629-1024x768.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1629-600x450.jpg 600w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1629-768x576.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p><br>The saree and its matching chadar are in a deep Gulabi pink colour and have been woven in the finest banarasi weaving technique &#8211; Kadhua or Kadwa, which means <em>kadha hua<\/em> or embroidered. This is a laborious method of weaving motifs independently onto the fabric and thus, there are no loose threads on the back. Using this technique, a variety of motifs of different sizes, colours and textures can be woven onto the garment. And while it may take four to five weeks to get the piece ready on the handloom, the final product is exquisite. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The border of the saree\nhas botanical motifs in gold along with singular dainty floral patterns spread\nacross the garment. At the corner of the <em>pallu<\/em>\nare two paisley designs, which are known as the Koniya motif in the banarasi-weaving\nparlance and gives a hint of the beautiful craftsmanship of this saree. There\nare yellow <em>meenakari butis<\/em> carved\nover the designs. In traditional banarasi\nweaves, <em>meenakari<\/em> technique is used\nto add different colors to the design apart from the zari. The chadar is made\nin the same design and colour and must have been used to cover the head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Given\nthe number of years that have elapsed since my grandparents got married,\nsometimes in the early 1930s, the saree, which is now almost 90 years old, is\nin a fabulous condition. My father talks about an incident from his childhood in the\nearly 1960s when his mother was still alive, when <em>pheriwallas<\/em> used to move from village to village to gather collectibles\nand other semi-precious items. He remembers that Chandrika Devi sold off one of\nher other banarasis to a <em>pheriwala<\/em>\nand he paid a sum of Rs 250 for the same. Immediately after paying the money,\nmy father says he saw the man light a match to the garment and walk away with\nall the zari that had melted off. Zari threads adorning the fabric were made of\npure gold, which, sadly, appeared to be far more valuable to the <em>pheriwalla<\/em> than the saree itself,\ndespite its historic weaving technique. Lighting the fabric on fire was also an\nage-old test to see whether the <em>zari <\/em>work\non the <em>saree<\/em> was real or not. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-gallery columns-3 is-cropped wp-block-gallery-4 is-layout-flex wp-block-gallery-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1737-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2597\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2597\" class=\"wp-image-2597\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1737-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1737-450x600.jpg 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1740-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2598\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2598\" class=\"wp-image-2598\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1740-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1740-450x600.jpg 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><li class=\"blocks-gallery-item\"><figure><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/1-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" data-id=\"2605\" data-link=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/?attachment_id=2605\" class=\"wp-image-2605\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/1-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/1-450x600.jpg 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p><br>When I saw the saree for the first time, I could not resist asking my aunt to lend it to me, which she agreeably did, without any questions asked. She later told me that by allowing me to keep the saree she was acting as a link between Chandrika Devi and her granddaughter, an exercise that filled her with immense satisfaction and pleasure. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>On certain days, I take out this garment in the lightest of silks and feel it against my hands, soft as butter. If I close my eyes tight enough, I can picture the young, demure bride Chandrika Devi, wearing this saree and getting ready to cross the threshold of her parents\u2019 home. She would have a short life, dying at the age of 42, leaving her youngest bereft of a mother\u2019s love. She would experience sickness and loss, but would bear them stoically. For solace she would read the Ramayana and compose letters to her loved ones. A lot of time would be spent in planting the mango orchards for the future grandchildren and smoking the hookah with equal aplomb. Years after her passing away, when memories of her had faded in the minds of those who had once known her, a whiff of ittar or the touch of a fabric would once again remind them of the grand woman who had shaped their lives. <br><br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\"><figure class=\"aligncenter is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1673-1024x768.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-2590\" width=\"768\" height=\"576\" srcset=\"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1673-1024x768.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1673-600x450.jpg 600w, https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/IMG_1673-768x576.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px\" \/><\/figure><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My aunt, Neelam, tells me that this silk banarasi saree had been a gift to my grandmother, Chandrika Devi, from my grandfather\u2019s side and she wore it at her bidai, when she left her father\u2019s home for her husband\u2019s. It is a Gulabi pink colour and has been woven in the finest banarasi weaving technique &#8211; Kadhua or Kadwa, which means kadha hua or embroidered<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":2579,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,421],"tags":[422,430,359,427,429,96,431,426,14,423,425,433,432,55,428,27,45,97],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2576"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2576"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2576\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2608,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2576\/revisions\/2608"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2579"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2576"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2576"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/museumofmaterialmemory.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2576"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}