The never-say-die sewing machine
THE sewing machine was gifted to me by my husband. It was a desi brand. Now more than 20 years old, it has seen its heyday and helped me in my journey as a householder. Initially, I sewed knick-knacks, cushions, pillow covers, kitchen gloves, table cloth and other useful household articles. Those were the days when mass-produced, ready-made cheap things were not available at the click of a button. A sense of pride in handmade things was in vogue.
Moving on, my sewing evolved into making fancy dresses for my tiny tots, frocks with frills, pyjamas, bibs and jumpers. Before I knew, I had graduated to full-scale repair and maintenance of garments as I brought up a footballer and an adventure junkie whose gear needed constant mending. I discovered that mending old clothes was a doable sustainability mantra which reduced the carbon footprint of my household.
As children flew out of the nest and I found more time on my hands, the machine again came to my rescue as I revived my therapeutic hobby of sewing creative pieces, most of which I gifted to my indulging friends. I sewed pouches, tote bags, quilt covers, table mats and even a bespoke dog leash for a pet-parent friend.
It has now grown old and has started giving me trouble. It has often failed to give me the desired result with skipped stitches, jammed gears and bunched-up threads. Initially, I tried to repair the machine myself by following YouTube tutorials, but gradually gave up the effort. It was abandoned in a corner and I would rant about it to my sister.
Fed up with my whining and cribbing, she suggested that I chuck it out and get a new one. In fact, she was ready to gift me one. “There is a sale going on. Just have a look at the fancy new machines. There are so many features in them, you will be spoilt for choice. Enough of that old machine, you have used it for long. You deserve a new one and if you don’t buy one, I will order it for you,” she threatened. I was almost tempted to give in, but then I thought, “What will I do with it — sell it, give it away or just dump it?” Emotions tugged at my heart. “Let me give it one last chance,” I told my sister.
Next day, I took the machine to the mechanic, who checked it like a patient doctor. “So, is it alright?” I asked. “What can happen to its strong build, ma’am? But it seems you have not cared for it properly,” he said. When I came back after half an hour, it was ready, well-oiled and shining, and gave out a happy whirr. The mechanic took Rs 150 for the servicing. Since then, it has been running like a marathoner, smoothly, without any hitch or hassle. And I have resumed several of my sewing projects, especially those that involved upcycling old scraps. I sing along when I sew and say a silent thanks to my sustainability messiah.
