GARB OF THE GODS

THE STORIED BANARASI SILK REMAINS RELEVANT WITH NEW DESIGNERS GIVING IT A MODERN TAKE

- ANTARAA CHATTERJEE

THE BORDERS WERE A little crumpled but the zari work shined as though brand new. My mother's 30-yearold bridal Banarasi sari was soft against the skin of my palms, the deep magenta with its jade drape still as vibrant, the paisley in gold filigree bringing out a soft sheen synonymous with the fabric, just as when she wore it on her wedding day in 1994.

To identify an original Banarasi silk from a fake, you need to know what to look for. "We were taught to always check the reverse side. Look at the warps and wefts and a plain patch of silk almost 6-8 inches long on the pallu," my grandmother informed me sagely.

There are, of course, authenticity certificates you can ask for from sellers, and the GI tag is the most sensible way to go.

The fabric woven on a traditional handloom will have floats (skipped threads) on the reverse side, and there will be little imperfections, proving that it was woven by hand and marking it separate from machineproduced counterparts.

In Banaras or Varanasi, known to be the hub of the eponymous silk textile, you sit by the ghats steeped in spiritual solace, the amplitude of the aarti sounds filling you. You admire the culture, listen to old tales, and spin the yarn back to the roots of this ancient city, which is as old as the scriptures. When you see Varanasi, you learn how it gave birth to the fabric of celebration.