<p>Between the 1920s and the 1930s, archaeologists dug up hundreds of printed textile fragments in Fustat (old Cairo), Egypt. A thorough analysis of the patterns, dyes (indigo and madder), printing techniques and fabric revealed that they were in fact handwoven and hand-printed in Ajrakhpur, Gujarat and dated back to the 13th and 14th centuries. While there was enough evidence suggesting robust trade between India and the Middle East, the discovery confirmed that there was a high amount of trade of high quality cotton textiles between Fustat, a major port, and the port of Bharuch in Gujarat.</p>.<p>I heard of the ‘Fustat prints’ only in 2019, when I travelled to Delhi to cover a fashion presentation by a popular sustainable label. The collection was inspired by two of the 14th-century fragments and the designers helming the brand had incorporated the historical prints into capes, structured jackets, saris and trousers.</p>.<p>Fashion journalism is often trivialised, and within journalistic circles too. Here was evidence of an important chapter of world history with India at its epicentre that was tightly tied to the ‘frivolous’ pursuit of fashion. For me, it was evidence that there are a lot more important stories waiting to be told. I had since wanted to explore the various crafts of Gujarat. The state is rich in craft traditions spanning textiles, artwork, jewellery, pottery and more. But I was keen on also bringing the voices of the craftspersons to the fore.</p>.Land subsidence threatens India's megacities.<p><strong>Kutch bound</strong></p>.<p>In late September this year, a visit to a textile exhibition in Bengaluru earned me an invite to a trip to Bhuj in Gujarat. The purpose of the trip was to visit and interact with a selection of weavers specialising in a range of weaving techniques indigenous to the region. It was organised by Aadyam Handwoven, and I saw it as an opportunity to pursue that interest I had unwittingly placed on the backburner six years ago.</p>.<p>Bhuj is home to the Vankars or weavers of Kutch, said to be the descendants of the Meghwal Maru community of Rajasthan. For centuries, the community has been keeping alive the extra weft technique of hand-weaving. The weaver adds extra loops above or below the warp, during the weaving process. The intricate designs created using this technique have the effect of embroidery.</p>.<p>The white Innova I stepped out of cut an incongruous figure on the dirt road that led to the home of fourth-generation weaver Babu Bhai Padhiyar and his family in Kanderai village, about 23 kilometres east of central Bhuj.</p>.<p>It was late afternoon and they ushered me into a room and passed around tumblers of piping hot tea as I took a seat on the floor. The walls of the room were lined with shelves stacked with handwoven rugs and yardage. The father-son duo showed us a range of the products they had woven by hand. Some thick, vibrant, multi-hued and traditional, others more muted, light and suited to contemporary palates — likely commissioned by luxury brands.</p>.<p>“Weaving is in my blood. My entire family, for generations, has honed this craft. I am a fourth-generation weaver, and I began weaving around 1994-1995. My children are now carrying forward this tradition,” Padhiyar said.</p>.<p>In an adjacent building that housed the looms, Padhiyar and his son took turns demonstrating how they make carpets and rugs on pit looms. In that muggy heat, a pit loom offers much-needed relief to weavers labouring for hours over their work. It is cooler in the pit, the seat of the weaver. On the day of my visit, Padhiyar was working on a dhurrie — an elegant black and white piece still in its early stages.</p>.<p>The family specialises in the dhabla technique — a cotton by cotton weave where the warp is visible and the weft is hidden. While one of the advantages of the pit loom is that it is less hot and thus easier to work on, it also gives the weaver room to apply more force into the weaving as it absorbs vibrations, which makes for a textile that is dense and has a clean finish.</p>.<p>“When I was younger, things were very different. Our weaving shed was a hut with no structure or support, so there were no walls. During the rains all work had to stop. Now, we have a proper dedicated shed that allows us to work year-round,” recalled the senior Padhiyar.</p>.<p>His grandfather would travel to neighbouring villages to sell their products, “but the money earned was very little and would run out”. The family often turned back to farming to support themselves during lean periods.</p>.<p>“Between 2013 and 2014, we actively started taking part in exhibitions around India. This helped us meet different people who soon became our customers and gave us some work, but it was usually a small order of one or two items and beyond that there was not much change,” he shared. Padhiyar has had a steady source of income since 2017.</p>.<p>Contending with the unpredictable monsoon was a challenge during his childhood, but now, one of the biggest problems facing him is that of machine-made products being labelled and sold as handloom. “Most customers do not know the difference and they end up buying into this marketing hoax, which affects the entire industry and the livelihood of weavers,” he explained. To keep this in check, the government should provide one common platform for handloom-only products that go through a proper process of attestation and certification to guarantee that they are handmade, he added.</p>.<p>Padhiyar recalled that after the 2001 Gujarat earthquake, there was a significant decline in handloom. With no way out of their financial burdens and having to rebuild their lives, many weavers left their craft to make quick money.</p>.<p>“Things slowly began to change in 2013 when 15 to 16 looms started working again. In 2025, there has been a significant rise in the number of weavers, which has helped stabilise the craft and the livelihood of many more families in Bhuj,” he said, adding, “I would urge Indians to have more love and respect for Indian crafts and to adopt these into their lives. The support motivates us to work harder and be more creative.”</p>.<p>He believes removing GST on raw materials and offering subsidies on them will make a significant difference to the weavers. Training programmes on marketing and workshops on how they can present and sell their work are a few other needs he hopes the government will fulfil. “While we actively participate in exhibitions around India, we often face language barriers that make it difficult to share the details of our craft and this sometimes leads to losing out on customers,” he shared.</p>.<p><strong>Dotted patterns</strong></p>.<p>Later that day, Giridhar Bhai from Adhoi village took me through the 700-year-old tangaliya technique of weaving. It is a technique practised by the Dangasia community of Gujarat and earned a GI tag in 2008. Since then, a craft that was on the brink of extinction has seen a major revival. Government support has made a difference. So has innovation and awareness of its value. Traditionally made with coarse wool, today it is also woven with cotton and silk.</p>.<p>A grey stole was taking shape on a frame loom when I entered the facility. Giridhar was adding small dots to the plain weave by simply twisting and snapping the contrasting threads with his sharp nails. The raised dots formed geometric patterns.</p>.<p>As I watched how he worked, one of the women of the house fired up the stove in the courtyard to serve the guests some bajra rotis and tea.</p>.<p>Apart from stoles, the family also weaves saris, dupattas, shawls, bed covers, runners and dhurries. </p>.<p>It was the first day of Navaratri and as I drove back to the hotel, I could see that the festivities were just beginning. I caught strains of garba music from a nearby playground as the car approached the hotel.</p>.<p><strong>Cotton and silk</strong></p>.<p class="bodytext">On my second day in Kutch, I had a long journey ahead of me. I was scheduled to meet a mashru weaver, Doriya Ramji, at his home in Mandvi village, which was about two hours away from the hotel. The village is synonymous with mashru weaving.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Mashru is one of the most sought after weaves from Gujarat. It is a blend of silk, viscose and cotton. The lustrous fabric has a smooth satin finish.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Third-generation weaver, Ramji, has been weaving mashru for 35 years. “I have been practising my craft since I was 15 years old. The skills, the craft and all its nuances were taught to me by my father and I have loved it ever since. Weaving allows me to stay close to my loved ones — my mother, my wife and our three kids. My 18-year-old son is currently in college and in his spare time I pass along the knowledge my father once imparted to me. Because of weaving I do not have to leave home in search of work,” Ramji said as I watched him work the loom.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Since he started working, there have been many changes in the weaving process and in the marketplace. “In my grandfather’s time everything had to be done by hand. There was no shuttle to simplify and shorten the weaving process,” he shared. Like Padhiyar’s grandfather, he too would travel great distances to sell his products for a paltry sum and the family had to support themselves through farming. “Today, from the comfort of my home, I have access to customers who are aware of the craft and regularly place orders with me, which gives me a steady income. This allows me to focus on weaving. In a day, I can weave five to six metres of mashru fabric,” he explained.</p>.<p class="bodytext">He noted that earlier, mashru was done on cotton by cotton, which created a dull fabric. But the addition of viscose in the warp and mercerised cotton in the weft has given the weave a sheen that has contributed to its popularity. But a common challenge facing handloom weavers is the effect of the rains on the wooden looms. “During the rains the moisture and dampness make the wooden parts of the loom expand. This causes the loom to get stuck or jammed and slows down productivity,” he explained.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Ramji wants customers to buy directly from the weavers. “We can educate them about the craft, help them understand the value of the fabric and recognise the difference between handloom and machine-made products,” he said.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Though the government has started many programmes to support the handloom industry, “most of them have failed to help the craftspersons at the ground-level”. “These initiatives should also be designed on a smaller scale so that more craftspersons can benefit and showcase their artistic skills. One important step the government can take is to provide weavers with a loom shed at home so that we can work throughout the year,” he added.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold"><strong>A Gujarati thali</strong></span></p>.<p class="bodytext">We stopped for lunch in the home of another weaver, Meghji Harji, who also specialises in the extra weft weaving technique. Meghji is a 1995 National Award winner and the 2022 Sant Kabir awardee.</p>.<p class="bodytext">His family served me an elaborate spread on a brass platter. Jowar and corn rotis, white butter, a brinjal dish, bowls of dal and numerous other vegetarian curries and desserts made for an authentic Gujarati feast.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Meghji’s loom, facilitated by Aadyam, is located a short distance from the main property. The looms are operated by the sixth-generation weaver and his son, Arun.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The entire family came together for the pre-loom processes. The warping is done by the women and during the sizing stage, about four-five members hold the warp threads several metres apart and another member brushes the threads with starch solution, to strengthen the yarn. The process is called ‘kanji’ or ‘pean’ (pronounced ‘pane’).</p>.<p class="bodytext">In Meghji’s neighbourhood, there were also traditional bhungas (circular mudhouses with thatched roofs). The walls were decorated with lippan art (mud and mirror work). An added bonus was watching women from the community embroidering fabric in their sunlit courtyards.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Karan Sanjot, a fifth-generation artisan from the Meghwal community, explained that Kutchi embroidery like pakko, kachho, kharek and suf are a visual language in the region. Earlier, a woman’s clothes would indicate whether she was married or single and her trousseau was created by the women in her family and her community.</p>.<p class="bodytext">With that it was time to drive back to my hotel. Over two days, I barely scratched the surface of the crafts of Gujarat. But it was eye-opening talking to the weavers and artisans who are keeping centuries-old traditions alive with nothing but passion and hard work.</p>
<p>Between the 1920s and the 1930s, archaeologists dug up hundreds of printed textile fragments in Fustat (old Cairo), Egypt. A thorough analysis of the patterns, dyes (indigo and madder), printing techniques and fabric revealed that they were in fact handwoven and hand-printed in Ajrakhpur, Gujarat and dated back to the 13th and 14th centuries. While there was enough evidence suggesting robust trade between India and the Middle East, the discovery confirmed that there was a high amount of trade of high quality cotton textiles between Fustat, a major port, and the port of Bharuch in Gujarat.</p>.<p>I heard of the ‘Fustat prints’ only in 2019, when I travelled to Delhi to cover a fashion presentation by a popular sustainable label. The collection was inspired by two of the 14th-century fragments and the designers helming the brand had incorporated the historical prints into capes, structured jackets, saris and trousers.</p>.<p>Fashion journalism is often trivialised, and within journalistic circles too. Here was evidence of an important chapter of world history with India at its epicentre that was tightly tied to the ‘frivolous’ pursuit of fashion. For me, it was evidence that there are a lot more important stories waiting to be told. I had since wanted to explore the various crafts of Gujarat. The state is rich in craft traditions spanning textiles, artwork, jewellery, pottery and more. But I was keen on also bringing the voices of the craftspersons to the fore.</p>.Land subsidence threatens India's megacities.<p><strong>Kutch bound</strong></p>.<p>In late September this year, a visit to a textile exhibition in Bengaluru earned me an invite to a trip to Bhuj in Gujarat. The purpose of the trip was to visit and interact with a selection of weavers specialising in a range of weaving techniques indigenous to the region. It was organised by Aadyam Handwoven, and I saw it as an opportunity to pursue that interest I had unwittingly placed on the backburner six years ago.</p>.<p>Bhuj is home to the Vankars or weavers of Kutch, said to be the descendants of the Meghwal Maru community of Rajasthan. For centuries, the community has been keeping alive the extra weft technique of hand-weaving. The weaver adds extra loops above or below the warp, during the weaving process. The intricate designs created using this technique have the effect of embroidery.</p>.<p>The white Innova I stepped out of cut an incongruous figure on the dirt road that led to the home of fourth-generation weaver Babu Bhai Padhiyar and his family in Kanderai village, about 23 kilometres east of central Bhuj.</p>.<p>It was late afternoon and they ushered me into a room and passed around tumblers of piping hot tea as I took a seat on the floor. The walls of the room were lined with shelves stacked with handwoven rugs and yardage. The father-son duo showed us a range of the products they had woven by hand. Some thick, vibrant, multi-hued and traditional, others more muted, light and suited to contemporary palates — likely commissioned by luxury brands.</p>.<p>“Weaving is in my blood. My entire family, for generations, has honed this craft. I am a fourth-generation weaver, and I began weaving around 1994-1995. My children are now carrying forward this tradition,” Padhiyar said.</p>.<p>In an adjacent building that housed the looms, Padhiyar and his son took turns demonstrating how they make carpets and rugs on pit looms. In that muggy heat, a pit loom offers much-needed relief to weavers labouring for hours over their work. It is cooler in the pit, the seat of the weaver. On the day of my visit, Padhiyar was working on a dhurrie — an elegant black and white piece still in its early stages.</p>.<p>The family specialises in the dhabla technique — a cotton by cotton weave where the warp is visible and the weft is hidden. While one of the advantages of the pit loom is that it is less hot and thus easier to work on, it also gives the weaver room to apply more force into the weaving as it absorbs vibrations, which makes for a textile that is dense and has a clean finish.</p>.<p>“When I was younger, things were very different. Our weaving shed was a hut with no structure or support, so there were no walls. During the rains all work had to stop. Now, we have a proper dedicated shed that allows us to work year-round,” recalled the senior Padhiyar.</p>.<p>His grandfather would travel to neighbouring villages to sell their products, “but the money earned was very little and would run out”. The family often turned back to farming to support themselves during lean periods.</p>.<p>“Between 2013 and 2014, we actively started taking part in exhibitions around India. This helped us meet different people who soon became our customers and gave us some work, but it was usually a small order of one or two items and beyond that there was not much change,” he shared. Padhiyar has had a steady source of income since 2017.</p>.<p>Contending with the unpredictable monsoon was a challenge during his childhood, but now, one of the biggest problems facing him is that of machine-made products being labelled and sold as handloom. “Most customers do not know the difference and they end up buying into this marketing hoax, which affects the entire industry and the livelihood of weavers,” he explained. To keep this in check, the government should provide one common platform for handloom-only products that go through a proper process of attestation and certification to guarantee that they are handmade, he added.</p>.<p>Padhiyar recalled that after the 2001 Gujarat earthquake, there was a significant decline in handloom. With no way out of their financial burdens and having to rebuild their lives, many weavers left their craft to make quick money.</p>.<p>“Things slowly began to change in 2013 when 15 to 16 looms started working again. In 2025, there has been a significant rise in the number of weavers, which has helped stabilise the craft and the livelihood of many more families in Bhuj,” he said, adding, “I would urge Indians to have more love and respect for Indian crafts and to adopt these into their lives. The support motivates us to work harder and be more creative.”</p>.<p>He believes removing GST on raw materials and offering subsidies on them will make a significant difference to the weavers. Training programmes on marketing and workshops on how they can present and sell their work are a few other needs he hopes the government will fulfil. “While we actively participate in exhibitions around India, we often face language barriers that make it difficult to share the details of our craft and this sometimes leads to losing out on customers,” he shared.</p>.<p><strong>Dotted patterns</strong></p>.<p>Later that day, Giridhar Bhai from Adhoi village took me through the 700-year-old tangaliya technique of weaving. It is a technique practised by the Dangasia community of Gujarat and earned a GI tag in 2008. Since then, a craft that was on the brink of extinction has seen a major revival. Government support has made a difference. So has innovation and awareness of its value. Traditionally made with coarse wool, today it is also woven with cotton and silk.</p>.<p>A grey stole was taking shape on a frame loom when I entered the facility. Giridhar was adding small dots to the plain weave by simply twisting and snapping the contrasting threads with his sharp nails. The raised dots formed geometric patterns.</p>.<p>As I watched how he worked, one of the women of the house fired up the stove in the courtyard to serve the guests some bajra rotis and tea.</p>.<p>Apart from stoles, the family also weaves saris, dupattas, shawls, bed covers, runners and dhurries. </p>.<p>It was the first day of Navaratri and as I drove back to the hotel, I could see that the festivities were just beginning. I caught strains of garba music from a nearby playground as the car approached the hotel.</p>.<p><strong>Cotton and silk</strong></p>.<p class="bodytext">On my second day in Kutch, I had a long journey ahead of me. I was scheduled to meet a mashru weaver, Doriya Ramji, at his home in Mandvi village, which was about two hours away from the hotel. The village is synonymous with mashru weaving.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Mashru is one of the most sought after weaves from Gujarat. It is a blend of silk, viscose and cotton. The lustrous fabric has a smooth satin finish.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Third-generation weaver, Ramji, has been weaving mashru for 35 years. “I have been practising my craft since I was 15 years old. The skills, the craft and all its nuances were taught to me by my father and I have loved it ever since. Weaving allows me to stay close to my loved ones — my mother, my wife and our three kids. My 18-year-old son is currently in college and in his spare time I pass along the knowledge my father once imparted to me. Because of weaving I do not have to leave home in search of work,” Ramji said as I watched him work the loom.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Since he started working, there have been many changes in the weaving process and in the marketplace. “In my grandfather’s time everything had to be done by hand. There was no shuttle to simplify and shorten the weaving process,” he shared. Like Padhiyar’s grandfather, he too would travel great distances to sell his products for a paltry sum and the family had to support themselves through farming. “Today, from the comfort of my home, I have access to customers who are aware of the craft and regularly place orders with me, which gives me a steady income. This allows me to focus on weaving. In a day, I can weave five to six metres of mashru fabric,” he explained.</p>.<p class="bodytext">He noted that earlier, mashru was done on cotton by cotton, which created a dull fabric. But the addition of viscose in the warp and mercerised cotton in the weft has given the weave a sheen that has contributed to its popularity. But a common challenge facing handloom weavers is the effect of the rains on the wooden looms. “During the rains the moisture and dampness make the wooden parts of the loom expand. This causes the loom to get stuck or jammed and slows down productivity,” he explained.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Ramji wants customers to buy directly from the weavers. “We can educate them about the craft, help them understand the value of the fabric and recognise the difference between handloom and machine-made products,” he said.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Though the government has started many programmes to support the handloom industry, “most of them have failed to help the craftspersons at the ground-level”. “These initiatives should also be designed on a smaller scale so that more craftspersons can benefit and showcase their artistic skills. One important step the government can take is to provide weavers with a loom shed at home so that we can work throughout the year,” he added.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold"><strong>A Gujarati thali</strong></span></p>.<p class="bodytext">We stopped for lunch in the home of another weaver, Meghji Harji, who also specialises in the extra weft weaving technique. Meghji is a 1995 National Award winner and the 2022 Sant Kabir awardee.</p>.<p class="bodytext">His family served me an elaborate spread on a brass platter. Jowar and corn rotis, white butter, a brinjal dish, bowls of dal and numerous other vegetarian curries and desserts made for an authentic Gujarati feast.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Meghji’s loom, facilitated by Aadyam, is located a short distance from the main property. The looms are operated by the sixth-generation weaver and his son, Arun.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The entire family came together for the pre-loom processes. The warping is done by the women and during the sizing stage, about four-five members hold the warp threads several metres apart and another member brushes the threads with starch solution, to strengthen the yarn. The process is called ‘kanji’ or ‘pean’ (pronounced ‘pane’).</p>.<p class="bodytext">In Meghji’s neighbourhood, there were also traditional bhungas (circular mudhouses with thatched roofs). The walls were decorated with lippan art (mud and mirror work). An added bonus was watching women from the community embroidering fabric in their sunlit courtyards.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Karan Sanjot, a fifth-generation artisan from the Meghwal community, explained that Kutchi embroidery like pakko, kachho, kharek and suf are a visual language in the region. Earlier, a woman’s clothes would indicate whether she was married or single and her trousseau was created by the women in her family and her community.</p>.<p class="bodytext">With that it was time to drive back to my hotel. Over two days, I barely scratched the surface of the crafts of Gujarat. But it was eye-opening talking to the weavers and artisans who are keeping centuries-old traditions alive with nothing but passion and hard work.</p>