Tangled yarns and a troubled home

The other day, my mother-in-law took me to a woollen shop. Her intent was obvious: she wanted to purchase woollen loops to knit a sweater for herself. The very sight of the woollen bundles brought back warm memories of my childhood.

My badi ma or Tayiji (aunt) and mother would sit together on the terrace of our house on bright sunny days during the winter and knit sweaters, socks, mufflers, and gloves for the whole family. My tayiji was a knitting wizard and was known for weaving intricate and unconventional patterns.

My younger brother was fond of kites. One day, he threw a challenge at tayiji to knit a sweater for him that had a pattern of a kite spread over it. She, of course, accepted the challenge, more driven by love and affection for my brother than to prove her skill. She knit a sweater that had an attractive design of a kite laid out brilliantly on its front.

The news of the sweater with a kite, an ‘artistic piece and knitting marvel,’ spread like jungle fire, and the ladies from nearby streets started pouring in to our house to learn the grand design! This irritated my grandmother, whom we called dadi, no end, as the stream of unending visitors had upset the normal schedule of household chores.

She being a tough mother-in-law, instructed my aunt to stop the ‘tamasha’ (show). Her orders were religiously obeyed. But the ladies from the neighbourhood kept visiting every now and then. To put a stop to this stream of visitors, tayiji was forcibly sent off to her mother’s house. The aim of the move was to douse the ‘knitting passions’ of the ladies of the mohalla. The trick worked, and the visits of prospective learners ceased immediately.

When my aunt returned from her maternal house, the winter season had already ended. This provided immense relief to my tayiji. But, she received a bolt from the blue when my dadi brought her friend home -- now she wanted to learn to knit the pattern of a bat and a ball on a sweater! The Cricket World Cup was to be held the following year. My dadi’s friend’s grandchildren had extracted a promise from her that she would knit sweaters with a bat and a ball for them! My dadi’s friend relied on my badima because she was having difficulty getting the desired pattern on the sweaters.

Alas, tayiji is not with me today. She had shuffled off the mortal coil. But the special sweater knitted by her keeps her alive in my memories.