The sangam (union) of rivers Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati is what Allahabad is most famous for. But there’s another kind of unity that people of this city are quietly proud of. For many decades, hundreds of Muslim families have been making mauli (sacred red-and-yellow thread, also known as kalawa), which is an important and integral element in most Hindu religious functions.
Days before the Navratra (the nine-day festival dedicated to Hindu deity Durga), work is on in full swing in Ahladgunj village. Men, women and children from this Muslim-dominated village, about 40 kilometres from Allahabad city in the north Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, are busy making mauli and chunari (a piece of clothing offered to the deity) that are in great demand by Hindu devotees. Villagers ensure that plenty of these are in stock.
The practice of making “mauli”, which Hindu devotees tie on their wrist, has been the hallmark of this village for more than four generations, but how it originated is unknown. The colourful items made here are sent to various parts of Uttar Pradesh, India’s most populous state, and several other places, including Mumbai, Jammu, Assam and Nepal.
Chunari is another item used in Hindu rituals, especially as an adornment for the deity Durga
However, visiting Ahladgunj can be quite a task. The Allahabad-Lucknow National Highway is not just narrow, but also without a divider and full of rough patches, which results in a significant amount of time spent on the road. Trucks, buses, cars, bullock carts, rickshaws and cyclists all jostle to get to their destinations. It is intriguing why governments of the day have not noticed the potential for tourism the village holds. Ahladgunj could be developed into a “smart village”.
Sadly, the obscure village can be missed easily. But once at the village, the expansive open fields are a source of pleasure. You need ample time to go around photographing the details of how maulis and chunaris are made.
Ashfaq Khan, 72, says, “Once, almost every household was dedicated to this work and the fields were chock-a-block with maulis and chunaris drying in open spaces. Workers struggled to find space and put up bamboo poles even in the winding alleys. Coloured threads hung all over the place. Today, only the remnants of the old grandeur are left.”
In a number of households, entire families are involved in making the items.
Khan is among those who have not given up this traditional occupation. His day begins with the azaan and after the prayers, he and other members of his family make maulis and chunaris until evening. “People may also be making these in other parts of the country, but the quality of maulis made in Ahladgunj is unmatched,” he says.
The village gets the raw material from mills in Bhiwadi and Malegaon — popular as power loom hubs — in Maharashtra. “The raw material, known as ‘naara’ in local parlance, mainly comprises waste from power looms. Women of the house generally handle the job of making loose bundles out of the naara,” Khan says.
Rehana, 52, says, “As a child, I used to make maulis at my parents’ house. After marriage, I continued to work as my in-laws, too, are in the same profession. With decades of work behind me, I don’t find it enterprising anymore, but my young grandchildren feel intrigued by the colourful threads we hang for drying in the Sun.”
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It’s a painstaking job, involving each step of the procedure — from raw material segregation to dyeing and drying and finally dispatching to wholesalers.
Once the bundles of threads are ready, the workers use the tie-and-dye method to give them the distinctive red-and-yellow colour. The bundles are dipped in pans of boiling water containing red and yellow dyes. Chunaris are dyed in a similar fashion. After a while, the bundles are taken out of the pans and the water squeezed out. These are then hung on bamboo poles and left to dry. The chunaris are spread in green fields that become a riot vibrant red and yellow.
Almost all the workers are drenched in colour, and as coloured water flows in courtyards and drains, it appears as if there’s a celebration of Holi (a Hindu festival) here every day.
For an outsider, the red and yellow hues of the village may seem inspiring, but life is tough for these artisans. Since the entire work is done manually and no one wears gloves, many of them suffer from skin infections resulting from handling chemicals with bare hands.
Child labour poses another dilemma for the villagers.
Rahat Ali, a village elder, says, “For many families, it is their livelihood and even children are engaged in it. Education is not a priority. Whatever the families earn is spent on meals. Some faced criticism for letting their children work. The parents were warned against allowing young children to join the profession. But due to poverty, many cannot educate their children, so they continue to work on the sly.”
A young boy is busy working inside the house while his father Ashraf, comes out holding bundles of coloured threads. “My son was not keen on studies, so we let him assist in the family business. He gets pocket money for his efforts. At least he is not wasting his time,” he says, hesitantly.
However, there are those who have been in the trade for three to four generations, but do not wish their children to continue with it. Feroz, 45, says, “We have survived in this trade for three generations. But I do not want my son to follow in our footsteps. I have sent him to Kanpur for education. Profit margins have dwindled and over the last few decades, our living standard has come down and we barely manage to run the house. Since this line of work is not lucrative anymore, many villagers are opting for greener pastures.”
On an average, a family makes a profit of Rs5,000 (Dh273) to Rs7,000 a month. However, trade grows manifold before festivals such as Navratra and Diwali. Since it is customary for Hindus to tie the mauli on the wrist at the beginning of a religious ceremony, the demand increases.
Since there is no storage facility, the items are dried the same day, and work continues at a hectic pace to ensure this. The profession has given the village a different identity. “It’s a positive thing. Due to my work I have made several Hindu friends, who approach me directly whenever they require maulis and chunaris,” says Ashraf.
Nilima Pathak is a journalist based in New Delhi.
