An Omar Khayyam poem finds itself on a 150-year-old rug from Balochistan. Beneath it, is a 100-year-old rug made by prisoners, sprawled across the floor. Stacks of neatly rolled rugs with varied patterns, colours, finish, and excellent craftsmanship, lean on walls. On the farther end, a lone weaver, equipped with a sickle-like tool (called ‘khour’) sits in front of a wooden loom, his hands moving swiftly through the array of threads, knotting and un-knotting. A typical day at RugWeave is all this and more; the handmade rugs store, at the basement of Eldorado building in Nungambakkam, intrigues collectors and art enthusiasts alike.
Nisha Tariq and Zeeshan Tariq are third-generation enthusiasts of carpets: thanks to the family business that inspired them to explore rugs. The business, which was originally started by their grandfather, was taken over by their father SM Tariq, who settled in Chennai 35 years ago. Zeeshan, who once went to Kashmir to collect some orders his father had placed, was touched on seeing the plight of the weavers. On sharing this experience with Nisha, the duo decided to act on it. “We always saw weaving as a commodity and never as an art. Despite being in the business for these many years, we never tried to understand the working behind it,” says Zeeshan.
This later led to Project Haath, an initiative to rehabilitate weavers across the country (especially in Kashmir and Central India) and revive the near-extinct art. “Now, Project Haath has about 650 weavers under its wing. We provide them as much support as possible by selling what they make and also creating awareness about their community,” says Nisha. RugWeave is directly collaborating with weavers from Kashmir and through other intermediaries with weavers from Central India, especially Badouli.
Project Haath
“In Kashmir, weaving is not community-specific. It is mostly dependent on economic background. Once they are educated, people tend to move on to other jobs because weaving rugs is labour intensive,” says Zeeshan, adding that the craft is passed on through generations. However, the advent of machine-made rugs and demand for modern designs started affecting the industry badly. “The decline in the number of weavers ultimately led to the steady increase in costs as well,” continues Zeeshan, an ardent collector who also studies carpets.
That the craft is labour intensive leaves the weavers with no incentive to continue, adds Nisha. Soon, the duo plans to organise workshops to understand the craft; an antique rug gallery might also take shape. They also plan to introduce a collection for the colour-blind by the end of 2020.
Now, the store houses a loom from Kashmir to show people the work that goes into making a carpet. Yusuf Mohammed, a third-generation weaver from Ganderbal, weaves in the store when he is not doubling up as a salesperson. “But the latter is what sustains him, not weaving. This situation needs to change,” says Nisha.
The loom and the art
The wooden loom, equipped with metal plates that hold the threads taut, stands upright against a wall. Yusuf sits at the loom, the ‘khour’ in one hand and a ‘punch’ in another. Beside him, lies a paper, bearing a burnt-out-brown tinge, with measurements and instructions; these come from the designer. He is now working on a silk carpet which would take him at least a couple of months to finish.
Yusuf has been weaving for 20 years now. Following the footsteps of his elder brother who initiated him into the art, he moved to Chennai to work at the store six years back.
“During harsh winters back home, people take to weaving when no other work can be done,” says Yusuf recalling the days he helped his brother during winter, because his school was closed.
“About 15 years ago, over 60 % of people in my hometown were into weaving. Now that has reduced to about 20-25 %,” explains the weaver. As he prepares to get back to his ‘taleem’, he says, “If the art is not recognised, future generations would not carry on in this field.”
