A thread shop
Pat’s photo tag is absolute fun. Fun because every picture one clicks, has a story. Each and everyone. And given the number of picture folders on my notebook, this was going to be a tough one too. I closed my eyes and clicked on a folder and then picked the 10th photo.
The folder was ‘Sydney Rocks market’. Its a market close to the harbour in Sydney, and is most charming. Open from fri-sunday, the Rocks Market has food, drinks, cafe, exhibits, art, flowers, people, and is a whole lot of fun.
Armed with my D60 I gallivanted about the market, and it was an utterly romantic experience. The quaint lanes, smell of fresh street food, stalls selling Oilve oils from their estates, wine tasting stalls..it was like a dream. I wandered about, a little away from the market place and came across a tailor shop with walls dotted with threads of all possible colours.
It reminded me of Ma. Ma stitches all my salwar kameezes and her sari blouses. She does it as a profession too. Way back when I was in class 12, things weren’t great financially. Pujo was approaching and we didn’t have money to buy ourselves clothes for every day of the 5 days of Pujo, which wasn't really required, but as teenagers, it then seemed very important. We never made it apparent, but ma knew how I might be feeling. Dad was out of a job then, and he was possibly going through his worst phase in life professionally and personally. That’s when ma swung into action. She spread word that she could deliver orders over night. She took orders of Salwar Kurtas, frocks for little children, cushion covers…what not – she took more than she could handle. But she managed it. That’s how she pooled in enough money to buy Dada and me new clothes for all 5 days of Pujo.
I remember her sitting through late nights and stitching crappy synthetic salwar kameezes (a fabric she so abhors). And over one month she made a lot of things possible for us, as a family. Ma set it right. I recall accompanying her to Ameerpet, an area from where she picked her threads, lining, needles and other such stitching supplies. I used to stand out side the store enthralled at the sheer number of thread shades available.
All that stitching for a living might sound filmy as you read, but as i write, tears well up.
And as I see this pic today, I think of her and the very popular business that she is running today, only out of sheer will power. Through my college days, I never once wore a ready-made kurta. And the ones ma made for me were such sexy ones!
Ma, if you ever visit, I’ll take you to this shop. I promise.
There were such lovely pics from Rocks market you know..and there are more stories to say. But let’s leave that for another day.
*********************************************************
Not tagging anyone, but urge you guys to do a tag on a photograph with a story. If the pic is random its even more fun. You’ll see how a story will unfold right before you eyes, even before you know it.
The rules:
1. Open your first photo folder. (I did that blindly)
2. Scroll to the 10th photo.
3. Post the photo on your blog and tell the story behind it and
4. Tag people to do the same.
Those who respond to the tag, do lemme know. Would love to see the picture and read your story too :).
Much love.
The folder was ‘Sydney Rocks market’. Its a market close to the harbour in Sydney, and is most charming. Open from fri-sunday, the Rocks Market has food, drinks, cafe, exhibits, art, flowers, people, and is a whole lot of fun.
Armed with my D60 I gallivanted about the market, and it was an utterly romantic experience. The quaint lanes, smell of fresh street food, stalls selling Oilve oils from their estates, wine tasting stalls..it was like a dream. I wandered about, a little away from the market place and came across a tailor shop with walls dotted with threads of all possible colours.
It reminded me of Ma. Ma stitches all my salwar kameezes and her sari blouses. She does it as a profession too. Way back when I was in class 12, things weren’t great financially. Pujo was approaching and we didn’t have money to buy ourselves clothes for every day of the 5 days of Pujo, which wasn't really required, but as teenagers, it then seemed very important. We never made it apparent, but ma knew how I might be feeling. Dad was out of a job then, and he was possibly going through his worst phase in life professionally and personally. That’s when ma swung into action. She spread word that she could deliver orders over night. She took orders of Salwar Kurtas, frocks for little children, cushion covers…what not – she took more than she could handle. But she managed it. That’s how she pooled in enough money to buy Dada and me new clothes for all 5 days of Pujo.
I remember her sitting through late nights and stitching crappy synthetic salwar kameezes (a fabric she so abhors). And over one month she made a lot of things possible for us, as a family. Ma set it right. I recall accompanying her to Ameerpet, an area from where she picked her threads, lining, needles and other such stitching supplies. I used to stand out side the store enthralled at the sheer number of thread shades available.
All that stitching for a living might sound filmy as you read, but as i write, tears well up.
And as I see this pic today, I think of her and the very popular business that she is running today, only out of sheer will power. Through my college days, I never once wore a ready-made kurta. And the ones ma made for me were such sexy ones!
Ma, if you ever visit, I’ll take you to this shop. I promise.
There were such lovely pics from Rocks market you know..and there are more stories to say. But let’s leave that for another day.
*********************************************************
Not tagging anyone, but urge you guys to do a tag on a photograph with a story. If the pic is random its even more fun. You’ll see how a story will unfold right before you eyes, even before you know it.
The rules:
1. Open your first photo folder. (I did that blindly)
2. Scroll to the 10th photo.
3. Post the photo on your blog and tell the story behind it and
4. Tag people to do the same.
Those who respond to the tag, do lemme know. Would love to see the picture and read your story too :).
Much love.
Comments
This was a really touching post...loved reading it.
Nice pic!!
@Phish phish: she made one for u..remember? :)I rmember the print too...a yellow one?
@m4: can't wait to read leaves from your parent's life too. We all have our stories. And its strange how they surface ...this part of my life was completely buried, till I uncovered this picture. :)
@Pat: oh when did ya set foot in this territory? Next time, you know who u should call. We'll stroll the rocks and have some yummy hot choc at the Guylian cafe!
thanks for this tag babe :). I wish i came across a photograph that made me say a funny tale.
@aynzoya: yes yes. thats all we do. blame. blame others, blame luck. despite ready examples and lessons right before our eyes! Shubho Bijoya babe. E-kolakoli!
My mother stitched and knitted our things too...
Suberb!
but over the years M has grown so attrociously healthy that she is scared of getting something done from her as it would take up more than boudi's double of normal working hours for a single piece. :D
I picked the 10th pic :) Story has unfolded - will post soon :) blogging is getting more and more interesting ! thanks KG !
read out your blog to M and she informed me that basanti boudi is incredibly talented but unfortunately not marketed to that sense. i also learnt that when misha was a kid, basanti boudi had sewn for her quite a number of outfits... no wonder they used to say misha looks so sweet...........
she had even made a night dress for the 3 M's in my family the link to which is given below.
http://www.orkut.co.in/Main#AlbumZoom?uid=13032005893818332388&pid=27&aid=1$pid=27
Satyi! Just blame game - and I know I wont learn my lesson - cause it is the easiest thing to do. :( Wish I had an iota of ma's resilience.
Subho bijoya. Asche bochor abaar hobe :)
Isn't it amazing how a single picture can bring back so many memories? And it's just a random thread shop?!!!
Life is good and your mum deserves a cape as well as her own theme song. Move over Wonder Woman!
:)