Mumbai entrepreneur Ritika Mittal travels with a backpack and some maps to remote parts of India, often without a clue of where she is going, to source rare weaves that make their way into her online collection of sarees, dupattas and skirt-sets
Mumbai entrepreneur Ritika Mittal travels with a backpack and some maps to remote parts of India, often without a clue of where she is going, to source rare weaves that make their way into her online collection of sarees, dupattas and skirt-sets
The Internet is painfully slow," she apologises on SMS for the delay in mailing visuals to us, and quickly follows it up with the fact that she is "delighted to be sitting in a tiny cybercafe in Guwahati, chatting about Mora's journey". Mora, Mumbai entrepreneur Ritika Mittal's craft initiative, is all about rediscovering hidden gems, textiles that have been forgotten and weaving techniques that are lost.
Ritika Mittal washes clothes in Majuli, Assam, a village with no
electricity and bathrooms. The riverside hut where she spent
13 days was recently swept away in annual floods
Mittal's attempt at piecing together a unique personal wedding trousseau three years ago led her to the idea of starting an initiative that supports skilled artisans practicing rare crafts in remote areas of India. "The idea of including the same old saris with usual bling and borders in my trousseau wasn't appealing," says Mittal, recalling how horrified her mother was when she declared she would walk into the mandap in a cotton handloom saree.
She did anyway, and received a bag full of compliments for it. Shortly after her wedding, Mittal joined forces with her now-convinced mother to mix-and-merge fabrics, borders and weaves to create what her mother dubbed "good but strange sarees." Later, when her sister-in-law's friend snapped up eight of nine designs, Mittal and her husband Aditya Nair were encouraged to launch a business to create one-of-a-kind textiles.
They dubbed their line, Mora ('mine') -- that's what they wanted each garment to be; something its owner could claim to possess exclusively.u00a0
The NARO collection features rare weaves from North East India
that take months to create. Each piece is priced at Rs 60,000
onwards
Mittal has spent a large part of the last three years, travelling. "I travel alone with just a backpack and some maps, sometimes for five months at a stretch. Often I have no information on which destination I am headed for," she says. And, at these destinations, Mittal fuses weaves from Andhra Pradesh with techniques native to Nagaland, finding accommodation in weavers' homes. Naturally, theirs isn't just a work relationship, but one that demands a close bond mirrored in the tight weave of her fabrics.
The tribal weaves of North East India are the central theme for her new collection, Nora. "These are some of the most gorgeous weaves I have come across, unseen in urban metros." Mittal has also tried to incorporate the style of traditional Naga shawls in her line. "I have combined tribal weaves with Uppadas from Andhra Pradesh, and Naga weaves with Maharashtrian Khan, Chanderi from Madhya Pradesh and Kalamkari from Andhra.. all in a single sari."
Cotton saree with Kutchi pallu
Dupattas and stoles from her new collection are priced at Rs 3,000 onwards. Skirt-sets include kurti fabrics and dupattas priced at Rs 14,000 onwards, and saris come at Rs 6,000 onwards. The Naro line, on account of its rarity, sells at Rs 60,000 per piece. Eager to draw the urban consumer closer to tribal craft, Mittal invites enthusiasts to accompany her on her travels through photo albums she posts on Mora's Facebook page.
Through the course of our frequently-broken online chat, she directs us to pictures of her crossed paths with Bikramjit, a Garo tribal who does his bit to preserve and revive the rich musical traditions of these regions. Her album holds a picture of Bikramjit's nephew, his lips pressed to a Garo flute, as he practices a now-fading folk tune.
Mulmul dupatta
Like these artists whose skill goes largely unappreciated, weavers too are in the dark about the worth of their talent. Emphasising the need to ensure that relationships with craftspeople are based on mutual love and trust, Mittal says, "Floods are a frequent problem here, and deficient infrastructure compounds the difficulties they counter every day."
Her album carries a picture of her washing clothes in Majuli, Assam. The caption reads: "The hut where I spent 13 days, stood right beside the river and was washed away by floods."u00a0 Having been a part of their struggle and experiences, Mittal understands why their labour deserves the respect it rarely commands. "These textiles aren't just products. They are weaves that bind the stories of these people, their heritage, spirit and an incredible, ancient culture."
ADVERTISEMENT