I love knitting, I love crochet…
I enjoy cross stitch embroidery, I enjoy painting cupboards
I learnt tatting in my youth, I learnt sewing after tatting
I dream of sourdough baking, I dream of patchwork quilts
Yes, working with my hands and mind, to create things, seems to be have been embedded in my mental circuits for a very long time. This has resulted in stacks of diverse raw-materials, scores of unfinished projects, and the desire to try my hand at anything new which comes along on Pinterest..that’s the reason for leaving it! I was overwhelmed by the infinite array of options and ideas..
During an emotional and raw phase of loss last year, when my sister was coping with the absolutely sudden departure of her husband, and the rest of the family was frozen in shock, I rushed down from Ranikhet to be with her, and to help her in any way possible. It took me just a day to realise that for my sister, a deep and desolate sense of loss, of being suddenly bereft and rudderless, and many more such emotions had welled up inside her. There were plenty of practical issues which had to be dealt with… a lot of people, paper-work, plans to be handled..and a whole new way of living to be worked out. She was handling it all with strength and courage, but that stunned and bereft feeling settled down just below her skin.
While handling the toughest aspect of loss—going through his things and trying to sort them into piles of “keep”/“donate”/“treasure”/ “throw”/“pass it on”, I kept some of his ties in my bag. I had a faint idea of what I wanted to do with them..cut them into squares, stitch them up, and make a collage for my sister. I thought of glistening black, blue and grey squares, with an eccentric patch of red, perhaps? something neo-classical? something modern? something unique?
I returned home with that bag of ties, and as knitting and working came rushing back to fill the days, the ties stayed quiet and snug in a forgotten corner of the cupboard. They would have completely faded from my mind, but for an unexpected visit by Varsha Sundarajan, a quilting expert and organiser of the International Quilt Festival in Chennai. Circumstances forced her to spend a morning with us, and while the dogs cuddled and licked and loved her, I brought out the ties and shared my plan to make a wall collage.
Varsha brought me back to Earth with a thud…
- Ties cannot be cut into pieces and stitched.
- The material is silky and slippery and slants and slides.
- Ties have to be taken apart, the inner lining removed, ironed out flat, and then strips can be made.
- The fabric has to be stitched onto ANOTHER fabric, to give it some support.
- Did I realise that ties are jazzy and bright, and there’s only so much of jazzy shades which can be stitched together?
I was ready to give up on the idea, and just continue knitting, but Varsha’s passion about quilting was as strong as my passion for knitting.
She took apart a couple of ties, and made me try my hand at ripping up seams. She had to leave for the station, but she didn’t leave the tie-project. YouTube tutorials on cutting strips, stitching strips into panels, aligning squares, and other quilting processes dropped into my inbox regularly. Pictures of possible arrangements and combinations popped up on my mobile, and yes, regular progress enquiries too!
And so, while I watched my brave sister step out into the world and learn a new way of living and working, of finding her quiet spaces and satisfaction, and bringing gratitude into every weary or woeful space, I learnt a new way of crafting.I stepped into the world of patches, machine sewing, pins and rotary cutters. I found satisfaction in combining shades and patterns to get the squares right, and learnt that less can be more, when I was attempting to gather memories for my sister. Even one square inch of a fabric would be enough to get back a happy memory of laughter, home-made biryani, old Hindi Songs, Posto the dog, or the gifting of a quirky tie!
As the months glided past, as the seasons changed, and as the fabric of sibling chats changed, I continued to unravel ties, cut strips, and create squares. Varsha continued to watch over my progress, like a distant, modern Fairy Godmother. She knew all the pitfalls before I even jumped into them, and her timely tips and tutorials saved the tie fabrics and my sanity.
When eight squares were prepared, it was time to assemble the throw in a way which would appeal to the sensibilities of my sister. She loves understated but attractive, clean spaces and flashes of colour, good materials and even better finish.
Graph paper, colour pencils, and coffee helped to get the final assembly done. With a lot of guidance from Varsha, of course!
For the backing, I pulled out a beautiful tussar dupatta which had been gifted earlier by my sister. It seemed right to join His ties with Her dupatta….a symbolic blending of the essence of this beloved couple in my life!
Hand stitched with some indigo dyed thread bought at a handloom festival, using masking tape and a sharp needle ( again, thank you Varsha!), the throw was finally complete and ready to be sent to the home from which it had been sourced.
It reached her on a Friday, when my phone was switched off and I was unable to hear or see her reaction. Smart girl sent me a voice recording, which I will keep with me as long as she keeps the throw.
She loved it. Every little strip brought back a good time with him. Some of them had been presented by her, some of them were there in photographs and party memories, some of them were being tied or untied while drama unfolded.
She will treasure it as long as she lives, and then her daughter will keep it and treasure it.
And I am glad.