Sari: Do I need her or she needs me?

 

This is the post I shared this morning on a saree group I am member of. 

There has been a debate recently about sari and non-sari. This has made me think a bit more about the issue. 

At the core of the debate is the question about what can be called a sari and what should not be called a sari. The purists argue that sari is an unstitched garment. If I have understood correctly, their point is that if it gets stitched in any form it can no longer be called a sari. 

It is the semantics which are causing the sneers!! And sneers which are making me uncomfortable to the point of asking myself questions and seeking answers within myself. Why is the debate making me uncomfortable?

So, back to the subject at the core of the debate. The trends amongst consumers and designers to modify the traditional unstitched garment to suit various purposes ranging from fashion to convenience to propaganda is being criticized by the purists. Their objection lies in using the word sari for any modified versions. 

Fair enough that any stitching violates the basic principle that sari is an unstitched garment. It would be fine if the defenders of this definition stick to this side of the argument. 

What takes the argument down a slippery slope is when these defenders start to malign the modified versions with adjectives colored with varying degrees of hate and more than a subtle touch of superiority. These derogations have no bottom. I came across someone calling it “ stitched monstrosity “, someone else saying “ stitched saree is lame and lazy”. These are people I admire. Yes I admire, despite the difference in how we view things.

The question that came to my mind is does sari need defenders? 

A garment that has stood the test of time since ancient Indus Valley civilization, does it need modern day revivalists and textile buffs to define and defend it? No matter whether the subcontinent was ruled by invaders and imperialists for long periods of time, the sari could not be made extinct. An onslaught of western fashion could not deter simple village women to abandon their roots. I am one such rural woman who by a stroke of destiny was removed from Indian soil and transplanted into the thick of western society for most of my adult life. And yet the sari could not be removed out of me. 

Does that sari need me or anyone to stand up for it? And in a bid to stand up for it, does it call for me to show something or someone else down ? If sari was a person or a mother would she be proud of me when I disrespect another person for her sake? Does my mother’s originality get shaken up when someone else gets inspired by her and tries to look like her? 

The same question is begging for thought these days when it comes to national pride, no matter what country you identify yourself with. Loving my country is ok. But is my country calling for me to look down upon or sneer at another country? Is my country really so weak?  It’s the same issue with religion.

Am I fully understanding the strength of the sari if I am provoked to defend it? Or is it something else making me shout out aloud? 

Can we love something dearly and still see good things in others? 

It is for each one to know within themselves. 

My saree is a fine kota silk with Bagh print from 

Mohammed Bilal Khatri. I had bought this from Dastkar Mumbai through online communication. This saree is perhaps the most light weight saree in my collection. It is buttery soft and elegant. Needless to say, I love it.