Woven into life: The quiet legacy of Haigala Meli

Hemalatha Jain narrates the story of Karnataka’s Haigala Meli towel, a humble handwoven textile that holds memory, labour and a fading cultural identity.

In the vast and layered history of Karnataka, not all stories are written in stone inscriptions or preserved in royal chronicles. Some are woven quietly into everyday life — into objects so ordinary that they escape attention. The Haigala Meli towel is one such artefact: a simple handwoven cloth that carries within it centuries of rural life, labour and cultural identity.

Even today, many elderly people across rural Karnataka remember the texture, durability and familiarity of these towels. During my conversations in villages, especially with those in their eighties, these memories came alive — not as distant history, but as lived experience.

Historically, much of Karnataka formed part of a vibrant textile-producing landscape. From early Deccan polities to the height of the Vijayanagara Empire, weaving was central to the region’s economy. Inscriptions speak of organised weaving communities, taxes paid in cloth, and textiles offered to temples.

While these records often highlight fine fabrics, they also point to a parallel world of coarse, utilitarian cottons — fabrics like the Haigala Meli, made for everyday use.

Woven from local cotton and dyed with natural colours, the Haigala Meli towel was designed for function. It served as a towel, a head wrap, a shoulder cloth and a shield against the sun.

Across Karnataka, this towel took on different regional forms. In the Mysuru–Mandya belt, finer weaves carried delicate motifs, sometimes even small bird or peacock forms woven into the fabric. In North Karnataka, bold borders — often in black or deep red — framed the cloth with striking simplicity. In Central Karnataka, large checks and strong colour contrasts dominated, practical and visually distinct.

These patterns are not abstract descriptions — they are tied to people and memory.

I remember Hussain Sab, a weaver who wore a worn-out white towel with a broad black border. It was frayed at the edges, but he carried it with ease, as if it were an extension of himself. In another village, farmer Kembavi wore a towel with a wide red border and large checks — typical of Central Karnataka — its boldness reflecting both utility and identity. And then there was Rajappa, a farmer, whose towel stood out with its red base and a yellow peacock motif in the pallu, a quiet reminder of the motif traditions seen in southern parts of the state.

Each conversation revealed how deeply embedded the Haigala Meli towel once was in everyday life. It was not something people thought about — it was simply there, reliable and constant. It marked work, routine and belonging.

But this ecosystem has been steadily unravelling.

The decline began during the colonial period, when machine-made textiles entered Indian markets in large quantities. Cheaper and more uniform, they disrupted traditional weaving systems. Yet, the Haigala Meli continued for some time, sustained by habit and necessity.

The more significant shift has taken place in recent decades.

As livelihoods became uncertain, many weavers left their looms. Demand weakened as consumers turned to factory-made alternatives — cheaper, more varied and easily available. Migration to cities further accelerated this change. With new environments came new perceptions.

The Haigala Meli towel, once worn with ease, began to be seen differently. In urban spaces, it was often associated with rural backwardness. Many avoided wearing it publicly, fearing a loss of respect. What had once symbolized dignity in labour slowly became something people hesitated to be identified with.

As a result, local manufacturing has declined sharply. Weaving clusters have thinned out, and younger generations see little reason to continue the craft. Haigala Meli towels from other states now dominate the market — affordable and accessible, but disconnected from local histories.

And yet, what is being lost is not just a product, but a way of life.

The Haigala Meli towel represents a system where material, environment and human need were closely aligned. It reflects knowledge built over generations — of cotton, of climate, of weaving. It carries within it the rhythms of rural Karnataka.

There is, however, a possibility of renewal.

As interest in handloom and sustainable textiles grows, there is space to revalue such traditions — not as relics, but as relevant practices. Restoring dignity to everyday objects like the Haigala Meli requires not just market support, but a shift in perception. It requires recognising that simplicity does not mean insignificance.

The Haigala Meli towel is more than a piece of cloth. If its threads are to endure, they must be held not just in hand, but in regard.

(The author is a textile researcher)