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Embroidery as a Social Fabric | Embroidery as a Social Fabric |
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By Rupal Soni '04Today, on opposite sides of our village, two women cried for different reasons. One woman is 17, and she is about to leave the only home she has ever known to marry a man she has never met, to live with a family she prays will be kind to her. The other woman cries over the loss of her husband, just three months before their eldest son’s wedding. One is about to meet the man with whom she is to spend the rest of her life; the other is coping with just losing hers. Dema Achar is one of the most creative women in this village, and she’s forever leaving my Rural Design School classes in 9 days. She’s about seventeen and set to be married. We had gotten off to a rocky start at the Rural Design School. She was a bit of a handful during classes, constantly muttering in Kutchi to the other girls. Her comments that were too fast for my ears, although the condescension she felt toward my ability to lead classes came across loud and clear. In retrospect, her attitude was parallel to the way students act up if they are not challenged in school. I had yet to realize that I was not giving her an opportunity to tap into her full potential. It took 9 months, but she finally taught me that she was the natural leader of the group when given the responsibility. And now, even as she is leaving, she is still teaching me. Dema had invited me over to embroider at her house one afternoon as they made preparations for the wedding. I was surprised to see many of the village girls there when I arrived with my first attempt at embroidery in my hand. I found a place to sit and began my stitches as the girls excitedly chattered on about the day’s village news. Dema smiled as the other girls laughed. Only when I heard her sniffle repeatedly did I actually notice that she was silently crying as she worked on her embroidery, her wedding day clothes. Each stitch brought her closer to her new family and farther from the present moment. Her mother was sitting close by, also fighting back tears as she embroidered a bag for the wedding day. Each stitch was one stitch closer to her daughter leaving her. Across the village Khetaben Desar has to embroider a new set of clothes. Her husband passed away about a month ago and Kutchi tradition no longer allows her to wear fully embroidered kunjris. She breaks down and begins sobbing often as she begins the process of preparing the set of sparsely embroidered blouses that a widow must wear. She embroiders and rocks herself as she calls her husband’s name and asks the sky ‘why him?’ Today, on opposite sides of the village, two women are embroidering for the same reason. They are both learning how to say goodbye. |
If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.
- Lila Watson
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