Folk tales, songs for neglected art

Ravneet Singh in Patiala

There are Punjabi folk tales and songs about Phulkari. A story goes like this: “The grandmother of a newborn girl begins phulkari embroidery at the time of her birth. She would gift it to her on her marriage.” Singer Gurdas Maan is cathartic: “Ghagre vi gye, phulkaria vi gayia, kanna vich kokru te valliya vi gayia… chal paye vilaiti bane.”

When it was time to head out of the house, women in parts of Punjab, Haryana and Rajasthan adorned themselves with phulkari, the flower work on dupattas and shawls. They collected in trinjans, (where they shared skills of embroidery, weaving and knitting) in rural domestics, superimposing their favourite colours and patterns on clothes. The carefully crafted designs on plain dupattas and suits took months to complete.

The designs of chhoti dibbi, kanchan booti, 2 number dibbi, palli or ath-garital and many others differ in design, pattern and style of work involved. ‘Suber’ is another embroidery work done only on the borders of the cloth. Bagh (garden), in which the whole base of the cotton fabric is covered with flowerlike designs, involves heavy work spanning weeks. 

Leaves, flowers and parts of specific plants were used to colour clothes. The clothes were soaked in them to bring out the best intended colour and couple them with designs. Patterns and colours of sunflowers represented respect, sky blue presented feelings of love and ‘kesri’ colour represented sacrifice.

The personal charm of phulkari gradually declined after the Partition. Commercialization took centre-stage with machines replacing women, and defeated friendless ‘trinjan’. Forgotten in most parts of the state, phulkari remains confined to a few houses of Patiala where it has traveled down generations. The young generation lacks interest and mothers weave on to make a little money.

“Shakuntla died last year, so, no one in their house makes phulkari now,” says Kaushalya sitting and creating ‘vail’ near the corners of a dupatta outside her house. She charges Rs 30 for a simple design on the borders where another woman in the locality will create intricate flower patterns.

In another house in Tripuri, Seema, Archana and Alka have kept the phulkari work alive. They get orders from shopkeepers for special embroidery. “Patterns of flowers are printed on the cloth which is followed till the last stitch. We charge Rs 300 apiece depending on the kind of work. Traders then sell these in domestic and international markets at heavy prices,” says Seema.

Their neighbours have stopped the practice. Many women used to do it, they say, “but gradually they stopped and moved on. It involves patience and hard work but does not pay well.” The art work is now presented in shops, showrooms and malls and bought by only a few.