I have in my childhood seen my grandmother make many such kanthas especially to gift new borns in the family. It was believed that old fabric will be soft on their skin and keep them warm. But nothing that I had seen in my childhood had prepared me for what I saw when I came to live in Santiniketan in Birbhum district. Birbhum has almost a 40 per cent Muslim population and Muslim women are truly the masters of kantha making.
It is an art that they learn from their mothers and grandmothers and take immense pride in their creations. Especially because they have to give these as part of their daughter’s dowry. The more the number of kanthas and more exquisite the work the more will be the respect the girl will command at her in-law’s place.
Normally these kanthas are not made for sale. But very occasionally, when a farming family needs extra hands at harvesting time, it is not uncommon for the women to be coaxed into parting with one of these family treasures. I have bought many such pieces for myself and my friends and have always been amazed at how exquisite the designs, both floral and geometric, emerge even as the quilts are covered in tiny kantha stitches. The colours used have a spontaneity to them that puts trained designers to shame. Many of these come signed (by embroidery) by their creator as ‘Nargis begum’ or ‘Mariam bibi’ and that truly adds to the charm.
One afternoon last week, I got a call from my potter friend in Santiniketan to tell me that there were two Chinese gentlemen in town who wanted to buy these quilts. Knowing that I take an interest in them, she wanted to know whether she could ask them to see me.
I called them home and showed them my collection. I told them that they were for my use and not for sale fearing that they may take a fancy to one of them. They looked at all my beautiful pieces but seemed visibly unimpressed.
“We have bought a kantha in Paris,” they said, “and that is in our opinion the best.” One of them pulled out a green quilt from their bag. It was one with a geometric design very common on muslim quilts. In fact, I had one similar and I pointed to that. They said, “But the standard is not the same.” I looked perplexed. One of them turned the quilt over and showed me how the density of stitches in the two quilts was different. The one they had had stitches denser than mine.
“We are looking for the same number of stitches in one inch,” one of them explained helpfully. “I believe you have an outfit that does embroidery. Can you make 200 of these with our standard,” they asked.
In my mind’s eye, I saw Muslim girls who sit in their backyard and stitch these quilts in gay abandon suddenly having to count stitches in every inch. It filled me with horror. And 200 of them!
I took a minute to reply. “You will have to try elsewhere. We don’t exactly do things to order,” I said meekly.
