The delicate hand-woven silk of Assam would seem completely out of place in a vortex of street violence. But this is exactly what happened towards the end of March as thousands of women and men took to the street in Sualkuchi, the hub of Assam’s weaving industry, 35 km from Guwahati.
The bone of contention was the ‘import’ of woven clothes similar to those churned out by the ever-busy looms of Sualkuchi. Coming out of Varanasi’s looms, the copycat Benarasi kapur (clothes) were cheaper, thereby eating into the livelihood of Sualkuchi’s weaving community.
Angered at the connivance of some local traders who ‘stole’ the traditional designs and sold them to weavers in Varanasi, the protesters set on fire clothes estimated to be worth Rs 25 lakh. The police resorted to teargas and fired at the protesting crowd, leaving seven injured, including two policemen. This ‘silk war’, as the local media dubbed it, was waiting to happen, say observers. Resentment had been simmering for some time among the weavers in the 50,000-plus town. Even customers became suspicious about the quality and authenticity of the woven
This was two days before all hell broke loose in Sualkuchi on March 30. Watching the news on television, Nirmali realised she had been on the right track after all. Incidentally, that shop was raided by police after government agencies woke up to the widespread public criticism, and protests escalated in Sualkuchi and Guwahati.
The protests were sparked off after Sualkuchi weavers saw low demand for their produce even during Rongali Bihu, the biggest Assamese festival ushering in the traditional New Year in April. Their suspicion proved correct. Traders had already flooded the market with Benarasi kapur .
A legacy of skills
Assam’s hand-woven silk textiles - Paat, Muga and Eri - are famous countrywide and even abroad. In this cottage industry, the product is entirely hand-crafted from start to finish. It involves division of labour — reeling, setting the loom, weaving and so on.
Interestingly, most of the sipinis (weavers) employed by traders are women belonging to the Bodo plains tribe. They are taught weaving from a young age. The skill fetches money and sustains their family. Many of them travel to Sualkuchi from remote villages, stay in dorm-like facilities and go home only for festivals or emergencies. They usually get paid according to the time taken to finish a product, so time is at a premium.
Their life is not very comfortable though. Even in the hot summer, they cannot afford the luxury of a fan as the delicate threads tend to break from the blast of air.
While the Paat and Eri silk with their rough texture are largely used for warm shawls, it is Muga that reigns supreme with its golden sheen. In the folk dance of Bihu, women wore only hand-woven Muga mekhala-chador .
Special cocoon
The silkworm of Muga is indigenous to the land and the thread has won the GI (Geographical Indication) tag for its uniqueness. Now the weavers allege that even Muga is being replicated with cheaper silk dyed in the golden hue.
Admittedly, Muga is expensive for the ordinary buyer. Gathering its cocoon is an arduous task; the younger generation does not want to take up the profession. The collected cocoons pass through middle-men and the thread cost escalates by the time it reaches Sualkuchi. But as old-timers say, once you buy a Muga mekhela-chador (ranging in price from Rs 10,000 to Rs 80,000), it remains a family heirloom that can be passed on for generations. In fact, the more it is used, the softer the material becomes. Muga saris and decorative items such as cushion covers are also in demand, especially overseas.
Assam’s sericulture department, with support from the Central Silk Board, has established around 22 Muga seed farms to produce cocoons for commercial rearers. But supply always lags demand. Besides, the delicate Muga silkworm can be bred only in the open. Any environmental disruption such as pollution can prove destructive. Thus, cocoon prices vary from season to season and, in turn, affect the price of the product.
With so many challenges already buffeting them, the weavers were naturally incensed by the additional threat posed by the ‘invasion’. Their agitation received additional attention as the Assam Assembly was in session and Opposition leaders lambasted the ruling party for ignoring the issue. Even though Bihu was round the corner (April 13-14), many shops wore a deserted look as the impasse continued.
The traders, on their part, pleaded that they had sunk close to Rs 15 crore in the clothes brought in from outside.
The State’s Minister of Handloom and Textiles, Pranati Phukan later announced that while the retailers could keep both the ‘produced in Assam’ and clothes from outside, the difference should be clearly highlighted to help customers make an informed choice.
The protest has now spread to other parts of the State too. The All Bodo Students’ Union has warned suppliers and retailers against selling traditional Bodo dresses such as aronai and dokhna that are manufactured outside.
Thus, a cottage industry dating back centuries finds itself battling the march of time on the strength of its delicate beauty.