My mother thought I had gone cuckoo with excitement and grief in equal measure.
I wanted to wear a saree from her trousseau for my hastily put together wedding reception—just before the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world and we all began living in our pyjamas—much to my mother's surprise. Since this was not a 'real' wedding, thanks to the din of disapproving voices leading up to the day, my mother was concerned that I was "making do" with old clothes and wasn't really happy.
She couldn't be more wrong. I was announcing to the world that I had found the most perfect partner, and I decided to do it wearing a garment that meant something to me. I was also sealing a deal with that choice: to never let go of anything that still held value, even if it meant efforts.
My reception saree took days and thousands of rupees and many man hours to get ready.
"You could have bought two new sarees with the money you spent on restoring this one."
Yes, mumma, but I could not have bought the happy memory of my third birthday when you wore this green saree with silver zari and I wore a matching suit you made from the scratch.
- 01/03
The then and now of a silk saree with silver zari.
Author's archives
- 02/03
Author and her parents. Her mother is seen wearing the same silk saree.
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- 03/03
Th restored version of a 40-year-old saree.
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