There is a story behind everything we possess. Whether it’s a picture framed, a furniture bought, a trip to your favorite place or it’s a simple saree you adore. Sometimes the stories are simple, funny and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. This “laal paad” saree I am wearing today, started its journey in the year 1987….only thirty years ago!
My mother was a simple lady, a typical housewife who were doing all her duties silently but perfectly. She didn’t have any desire except to see all her three daughters successful. She never demanded anything from my father as well but was proud of him. We three sisters were good in studies and my father was a very bright, energetic man working as an executive dealing with finance and accounts in a well reputed public sector company. With this scenario, we were comfortable and never smelled anything terribly wrong.
My father fall sick suddenly- the jolt shook us heavily. The diagnosis required an immediate surgery. As my uncle was staying in Kolkata we left for Kolkata for Dad’s surgery. As we didn’t have a brother my cousin brothers were all very affectionate to us and they stood beside us like walls. One of my cousin bro was too brilliant who then just completed his M.Tech from prestigious IISc, Bangalore and joined a reputed organization. From his first salary, he decided to buy gifts for my dad and ma. My dad guided him throughout his career and they both had a very good bonding. So my aunt and bro went to a weaver known to them and ordered this saree for my ma. You can see the work done on the entire saree. The design was a brainchild of my aunt. She instructed the weaver and this beautiful piece was created. My bro gifted the saree to my mom with much pride and joy. Still, I can remember his peaceful smile filled with gratitude. Meanwhile, my dad underwent surgery but could not sustain the strain. The condition worsened day by day and all of a sudden he breathed his last in the hospital itself. Unprepared we, utterly disgusted, lost faith on that Supreme authority. The whole family was shattered, broken and our another journey towards the undefined destination began. All history now.
And this laal paad remained untouched. No pico fall, no blouse stitched till now!! When the trauma started settling down, we stared at the saree, again gloominess surrounded us and it was locked away. It was only some time back, I took it out and penned down its story. Interestingly, this is the only saree of my mom that I have kept, all other clothes of her were given away to the needy. Perhaps to write its unique story, “
Perhaps to write its unique story, I wanted this “laal paad” to be told and seen.