Yesterday, I took out a turquoise-cyan beauty. A 25-year-old Kanchipuram silk sari / saree. It is my Amma’s (mom’s). I admired it. I let it lie, fly and speak to me for a while. Then I let it breathe fresh air for over 24 hours in a well-ventilated room.
Today, I refolded and rolled it over a kitchen paper cardboard roll*. Enjoyed the crispy and crunchy noises it made. I realised its textile narrative cannot linger. It will not last. Although, the peacock-symbol (sadly synthetic) borders, S-shaped scattered motifs (buttis) and base body silk are strong, it is faded and stained overall, and has bled too in a lot of places.
So, this time instead of tucking it back into my old-and-very-loved silk sari / saree stock, I breathed into it and let it go. It was a spiritual journey of reliving the love and acceptance of the loss. This time, I rolled and tucked it in plain sight. Planned its REbirth finally. Will share its makeover story — a collaborative initiative — soon.
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