MISSION STATEMENT

I come from generations of Sikh-Punjabi fiber artists, who have entrusted me to preserve their beautiful heirlooms: a hand-embroidered phulkari shawl traditionally worn by women on their wedding day (Picture 1), a woven rug called a dhurrie with a flora and fauna motif (Picture 2), and a woven cotton khes often used as a bedspread in rural Punjab (Picture 3). Made by my grandmothers and great-grandmother, these heirlooms have survived decades of state-sanctioned violence and the forced migration of our people. The British empire tore our land in two pieces during the 1947 Partition, and in the chaos that ensued we lost thousands. The state-sanctioned Sikh genocide of 1984 led to thousands more dying. Following Operation Blue Star and the assassination of Prime Minister Gandhi, the 1984 genocide particularly impacted my parents’ generation of Sikhs and was the catalyst for many Sikhs to chase stability abroad.

My parents raised me in Queens, NY. As a first-generation American, I struggled to connect with my culture through the lens of tragedy that separated us. When I was in middle school, my mother taught me how to knit and crochet, two fiber arts our ancestors used to stay warm and pass time. On trips back to Punjab, my grandmothers would use our common language of fiber arts to connect with me. They shared stories about the communal aspect of their crafts: meeting with other women in the village to complete a group project, drink chai, and gossip. Sitting together at a traditional pit loom or on a manja protected in the shade.

As I enter my thirties, I continuously revisit these stories in my mind and am reminded that these fiber arts have almost disappeared. Many Sikh families could not hold onto their ancestors’ heirlooms when they fled. In an effort to revive our traditional fiber arts practices, I have been teaching myself how to embroider phulkari patterns using single-ply silk floss. A year ago, I invested in a Leclerc 45-inch floor loom, a treasured find that my sister and I traveled to Pennsylvania to retrieve (Picture 4). I purchased this loom specifically with the intent of replicating my grandmother’s khes. For the past year, I have been learning how to set up my loom and practicing basic weave structures. As I learn these arts, I know I am fortunate to have heirlooms as references.

I have had the Been There Knit That platform for five years. As I learn more about Punjabi fiber arts, I will be recording the experience on this website in a series called ਬੁਣਾਈ ਵਤਨ (English Translation: Weaving Homeland). I will share every aspect of the art: its history, where I source materials, in-depth tutorials, and more. I hope that people will use the resources I share to keep these traditional arts alive with me. Palestinian artist Wafa Ghnaim of Tatreez and Tea, Punjabi Giddha performer Noor Zora, and Partition historian Aanchal Malothra are just a few of the inspirations for this series. In their own ways, they are each preserving history and art for future generations.

Please connect with me if you are on the same journey. I would love to share resources and build community with you.

Picture 1. This photo was taken on my wedding day. Over my head, I am wearing a phulkari shawl embroidered by my maternal grandmother and great-grandmother. It has been worn by several women in my family on their wedding day, including my grandmother and mother.

Picture 2. This handwoven dhurrie was made by my maternal grandmother around 60 years ago. She gave it me as a keepsake when I was 20, and I currently display it proudly in my living room.

Picture 3. This is the khes I would like to recreate. My paternal grandmother made it around 70 years ago using a traditional pit loom.

Picture 4. My beloved Leclerc floor loom is displayed in the front room of my home. This image shows the first time I dressed the loom. It was a proud moment.