PICTURE A ROMANTIC setting during the Mughal era. An emperor has fought a long, hard battle and conquered land and gold. On his return, he only wishes to see his beloved. Society rules dictate decorum—the empress can only see him behind gossamer, wispy layers of cloth. The same breeze passes through the weft lock of the weave. The fabric is opaque, but one wonders if it would dissolve at the slightest touch.
Jamdani certainly could.
Rarely has a fabric captured the imagination of poets, romantics and royalty alike. In the first century BC, Roman author Petronius in Satyricon called it woven wind” and waxed eloquent on the fabric’s beauty: Thy bride might as well clothe herself with a garment of the wind as stand forth publicly naked under her clouds of muslin.” In Hindi and Urdu it is often referred to as ose ki boondein or shabnam morning dew) and aberawan running water). In its finest thread count, it was believed a whole sari could fit into a matchbox. Its diaphanous quality is so elusive that the Sufi poet Amir Khusro called it the skin of the moon’.
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