Stories
How Samahar Came to Be
A story that began with saree shopping in Gariahat, grew through love and curiosity, and eventually found its way to the looms of Bengal.
Gariahat
As a young boy, I accompanied my mom on shopping expeditions. Especially before Durga Puja, we would visit the shops in and around Gariahat.
Back then, I simply strolled from one shop to another while Mom selected sarees with unmatched precision. She knew exactly the fabrics and colours she wanted. She understood the likes and dislikes of each person in the long list of relatives who received a saree as a gift for Durga Puja.
The whole affair seemed bamboozling to my tiny brain back then. But as I grew older, I began to see the method in that madness and started forming opinions of my own. I still did not understand fabrics, but the splash of colours and the different patterns made the world of sarees extremely appealing.
Every now and then, though, my enthusiasm would meet a little reality check. I would excitedly point out some colourful saree, only to discover that it was a printed cotton saree when Mom was actually looking for a Murshidabad silk or a Tussar Jamdani. Everyone would have a good laugh about it, including the salesperson.
But it rarely dampened my spirits. That world of colours, designs and patterns simply fascinated me.
The Indigo Saree
Learning to Look
The Idea
One Rainy Sunday
Samahar




