A break in the silken thread: Banarasi weavers are crying to be heard

The day is not far when the last loom in Mubarakpur, the heart of the Banarasi sari, will break down and the art of silk weaving will be lost forever

When Narendra Modi came to power in 2014, we thought, here’s a man who will do something for us,” says Razi Haider, a weaver who runs a workshop where diligent young men toil on a shuttle and loom to produce the most exquisite pieces of silk and brocade you can imagine. “Sadly, nothing happened,” he says.

The weavers of Mubarakpur are not salesmen. They’re artists. They’re designers for whom the power loom is an abhorrence. Everything woven here is made on the handloom, employing as many as four men on one piece of fabric: Two working the shuttles, two others on the finishing and the colouring of the yarn. A luxurious satin weave with zari motifs was the highlight of this area — in itself, an ancient handloom weaving cluster, with evidence of fine silk weaving being practiced here since the 14th century. But over the years, this was usurped by the traders of Banaras and became synonymous with the Banarsi sari leading to a decline in the fame of Mubarakpur.

The weavers’ biggest grouse is that the government is running schemes that benefit nobody. They are angry with self-help groups and weavers’ collectives that the government finances: That have achieved nothing. Well-meaning interventions like the huge spanking new building mean to be a marketing centre for Mubarakpur silk have not got off the ground. The building is deserted. Haider says he paid money to the government to lease a kiosk but took back his deposit within a month of acquiring it. “There will be business if people come to Mubarakpur, feel and experience our weaving and touch the silk. Between Mubarakpur and Azamgarh (the biggest town, 14 km away) there is one bus. To come here, you have to get off at Varanasi and drive here from the airport. The roads are in a hopeless condition. So we have this wonderful building but it is completely unoccupied,” says Haider.

Everything woven here is made on the handloom, employing as many as four men on one piece of fabric: Two working the shuttles, two others on the finishing and the colouring of the yarn

For these weavers, mostly Ansari Muslims, silk is a source of finding jobs and also giving employment. Weaving, once you’ve been trained for it, can become an opportunity to make some money for a farmer who is between crops: All he has to do is come to the loom and work there for a few days between harvesting a crop and planting a new one. “But now there are no young men: the hands that have been trained to weave are now engaged in washing dishes at dhabas and mixing cement for the construction business. Our community used to look down on seeking jobs in the Gulf. Our parents and grandparents thought going to Saudi Arabia for work was the worst misfortune to befall a family. But now there’s no option. There is no opportunity to market our silk, those who sell in big shops would rather buy from Banaras than take the trouble to come here and as a result, our business is slowly dying,” Haider says, matter of factly as he absently caresses the jewel-toned silk.

Those in the business are in their 70s. Only a handful of weavers in their 30s and 40s continue to work the looms. Even the looms are in a pitiable state. “When we hear that somebody’s loom has broken down, we immediately rush there to buy it off him: Who knows when you might need a part that you can lose in your own loom,” he adds. 

The only words of praise the weavers have are for Shabana Azmi and designer Manish Malhotra. Azmi came to Mubarakpur, a few years ago, enduring the potholed roads and the insanitary conditions and organised a show for the weavers to display their art in Delhi. She followed it up with internet presentations and this got them many orders. Malhotra visits frequently. His show in aid of cancer patients, gave Mubarakpur a huge cachet. Of course, that was before 2016, weavers say with a shudder. Demonetisation was the last nail in the coffin and the industry is only now slowly recovering from the phase.

What would really help is getting handloom out of GST. Khadi has won that fight. Handloom weaving must also be exempt from GST. It must have certification, like a GI tag. There was a time a bride’s trousseau would be incomplete without at least one Banarasi sari. In the past, that sari would be woven in Mubarakpur. No longer. Because Mubarakpur is dying.