Punita Maheshwari
Punita Maheshwari
I have covered education, human interest, and gender beats for media houses. Following that, I have worked as a gender campaigner for three years with digital a advocacy organisation. Currently, I am working as a political consultant and5 continuing long-form journalism.
Stories by Punita Maheshwari
 28 Mar, 2022

From the Taliban takeover to lockdowns in India, how Bhilwara’s textile industry survived 2021

Innovations ushered in by new generations and rising demand for school uniforms have helped the Rajasthani textile hub slowly find ground after a few turbulent monthsBhilwara, Rajasthan: "One in three people in Bhilwara seem to be associated with the textile industry," said Nikhil Kabra of Ajay Syntex.In the district of Bhilwara in Rajasthan, over 70 crore meters of various polyester blends are produced in a year by more than 400 weaving houses that manufacture synthetic yarn and 19 processing houses that turn them into shirts and suits. These MSMEs employ nearly 75,000 individuals.In India, Bhilwara is synonymous with the textile industry. The story dates back to 1935, when the first cotton mill, the Mewar Textile Mill, was established here. Many other such industries followed suit over time, and Bhilwara earned the title of India's textile city. The Sangam group, established in 1984, became the foremost producer of yarn in the country and brought a lot of business to the region. Mayur Suitings from Bhilwara was also instrumental in expanding the market. Moreover, with an annual turnover of around Rs 8,000 crore and 19,500 rotors for spinning houses, Bhilwara is one of the largest exporters of polyester and viscose-blended yarn.According to the Government of Rajasthan's Industries Report of January 2021, the textile industries of Bhilwara showed an annual growth rate of 8% to 10% compared to the previous year. However, this progress wasn't without the challenges of the pandemic.Unprocessed cloth material stacked under a shed (Photo Credits: Punita Maheshwari)"The factories were shut for three months during the two lockdowns. It was a tough time as we also had to let go of around 20% of our workforce," said Mahendra Singh Nahar, the commercial manager of Sona Processing House. Ram Lal Mali, a labourer in the processing house, echoed his views, adding that the government should intervene and ensure that labourers' rights are secure."We've never seen a worse time than this. Many people were in debt, and we didn't have the means to feed our families," he told 101Reporters. "This is not a work-from-home industry. It's been difficult to recover from the blow of the factory closures [during the lockdowns]." School Uniforms, Taliban & Turbulent TimesAs Covid-19 cases dropped in numbers and restrictions eased, Bhilwara suffered another significant blow — one bought on by the Taliban's takeover of Afghanistan, one of the 60 countries to which Bhilwara exported its textile products. "With the Taliban entering Afghanistan, exports to Afghanistan declined by 75% — from  Rs 40 lakh to  Rs 10 lakh a month," Nahar confirmed. While the industry saw a collective slump in the months of July, August and September 2021, the processing houses have managed to revive and are now running at a 100% capacity. One of the most significant factors for this revival has been the reopening of schools. This led to an increase in demand for uniforms, which constitute 25% to 40% of the production. However, not all textile manufacturing sectors in Bhilwara have been as fortunate. Amit Mehta, who trades in weaving, spinning and processing of yarn, explained: "A couple of months of high isn't enough to offset the damage, and there are reasons for that. Weaving centres are larger in number and have no specific association, unlike processing houses, where workers seem to have more solidarity. These are fewer in number, have more economic stability and, hence, have been able to start making profits sooner."Young Businessmen Spearheading InnovationSeveral people within the trading community, including Mehta, found alternative businesses to sustain themselves during the pandemic. And while many others migrated to their native towns, trends show a healthier rate of return back to Bhilwara than in several other industrial districts."The textile trade in Bhilwara is more than just an occupation," Kishan Patwari, a manufacturer-turned-marketer told 101Reporters. "After we went on strike, labourers received partial salary payments from their companies. So when production picked up pace post lockdown, there wasn’t much shortage of labour."  "Even folks from this generation return home after studying outside the state because there's an appetite for risk as well as adaptability to innovations and ways to live," he added. Kabra, 30, a third-generation businessman who returned to Bhilwara after studying in Mumbai, couldn't agree more. "The textile business in Bhilwara is rooted in families, so there's financial security," he explained. "Millennials have stepped outside the box, learned and brought with them the perks of innovations, which the older generation has accepted."Times have changed for the business, and so has Kabra's outlook. Going for quicker, quarterly turnovers, he feels that the textile industry is vast and expands beyond garments to technical textiles. This includes military tents and the cement fibre used between layers of roads for added stiffness. "Bhilwara has the machinery and resources to do this. It will also increase our options and allow us to enter different markets in such uncertain times," Kabra said. According to the Export Survey Potential, the Weaving Mills Association proposed that an Inland Container Depot be set up in the town to export goods to ports from Bhilwara. Kabra believes that this could immensely help the town's businesspeople.Hopes & Promises Of The Textile HubWhile Kabra's young mind spoke of innovation, Sanjay Periwal, president of the Weaving Mills Association in Bhilwara, highlighted the recent addition of 12% GST on clothing. "We disagree with the central government's decision," he told 101Reporters. "We had asked for a subsidy in yarn GST. Increasing the GST on the final product will pose a burden on buyers."In a recent proposal to the chief minister of Rajasthan, the Weaving Mills Association sought the following: waiver of electricity charges for 2020; minimum electricity unit charges, i.e. Rs 3.20 per unit; a capital subsidy of 25% to 30%; and the establishment of a textile park in Bhilwara to bring it close to global standards.The association expects compliance, especially given its commitment to high environmental standards. The processing houses use a lot of water to churn out the final product and ensure that they do not release polluted water into the rivers. They also comply with the zero-discharge policy and re-use processed water. As the industry waits for the government to declare Bhilwara a textile hub, its labourers await a plan that offers them a buffer in case of any unprecedented occasions in future. Mali, who's a husband and a father to one said: “We are still recovering from the debts that arose during the pandemic, and we'd like support in case any problematic economic condition surfaces again.”

Read Now  
 5min Read
  
From the Taliban takeover to lockdowns in India, how Bhilwara’s textile industry survived 2021

 24 Dec, 2021

Clad in pride and property: How 'tawaifs' in Jaipur are living their art

In one of the busiest spots in Chandpole market, the tawaifs in their poignant anarkalis and inherited talent are keeping an old tradition alive. Jaipur: Zubeida Bano started performing mujra at the tender age of 18. Now 70, chewing her supari, clad in a plain pathani suit, it is difficult to believe at first glance that she is a trained dancer. However, one only need to spend some time in her mujraghar to notice the ada (style) with which she walks, how she sits with authority on her gaddi, and her deep eyes that reflect memories of an age-old tradition, and understand that she has been a part of rich cultural history.Her mujraghar is one of the 20 at Jaipur's Chandpole Bazaar. Her authority seems to come from three areas: her pride in keeping an old dance form alive, her ownership of the mujraghar, and her own memories.You know the mehfil is about to begin when you start seeing Bano and many older and former tawaifs (courtesans) step into their mujraghars to begin the performances.Bano’s mujraghar, in one of the most important markets of Jaipur, overlooks the streets that are a rush of houses and tourists buying clothes, savouring food, and haggling with rickshawalas.A steep staircase leads to the mujraghar on the first floor. Amid the usual din of the market, there's one thing that is exclusive to this street — the chime of ghunghroos and tinkling of music systems around 7 in the evening.The windows get lit up and the tawaifs get ready for the evening show. “We have permission to play music till 11 pm every day. The police are usually downstairs and we can reach out to them if we ever want to,” Bano pointed out. "Mere yahaan sirf mujra chalta hai (I only allow mujra here),” she said, emphasising that her mujraghar has a license and her girls are  performers. “That's why the police also do not object to our presence in this prominent market," she explained, adding that mujra should not be equated with prostitution."It's either by performances over the years or erstwhile gifts from the then kings that we have earned these mujraghars. I bought this place 10 years ago for Rs 30 lakh and today it is easily worth Rs 1.5 crore," said Bano, adjusting herself comfortably in her gaddi. Her unapologetic way of speaking reflected the rutba (honour) that a tawaif drew in older times. The good old daysGulabo* (name changed), a young, practicing tawaif, in a mujraghar next to Bano's reminisces about the older times as well. “Our nani (maternal grandmother) told us that they used to do mujras and even the royalty used to visit. In fact, they used to send young kids to learn tehzeeb (courtesy) and art from them," she recalled, adding that things have changed now."Respect for the art form has gone down. We are performers and we want to perform and live a life of dignity. Sometimes, we are seen in a bad light and that should change,” she said. More than anyone, Bano is extremely proud of the fact that she has managed not to succumb to the modern demands of her customers.  "Sometimes an audience demands that the girls perform item numbers, but we refuse right away. As an old tawaif, I have seen a lot of changes but we want to keep the kathak dance form alive in this tradition,” Bano explained, while one of her tawaifs, ready for the evening, looked at her from across the room, awaiting the evening’s audience to pour in. Mujra, a dance form brought to India during Mughal rule means a musical performance by a dancing-girl and paying of respects. Over the years, the art form has seen many variations. As in cities like Delhi and Lucknow, in Jaipur too the mujra is a licensed activity.Dr Abhimanyu Singh, Assistant Professor in the Department of History at Rajasthan University, pointed out that Jaipur has been under Mughal influence given its proximity to Delhi and marriage associations with the Mughal empire.“That's one of the main reasons behind the presence of mujraghars in the city since the establishment of Jaipur,” he said, adding that mujras were also a counter to the native Rajput culture. "The Rajputs preferred their courtesans not being in the public eye. However, the tawaifs were more independent and had their own place to live in and perform," he explained.Pandemic and the futureOne of the tawaifs spoke about how the pandemic had affected their lifestyle and art. "We used to have more than ten guests visiting us every evening and showering money. But during the pandemic, we spent the evenings alone. There was no income. Sometimes we resorted to Bollywood music to oblige the audience," she confessed. The oldest of all the tawaifs in the region was the most unapologetic and confident. "We have been practicing here for ages. Our mothers did too and so did their mothers. With time, we have adapted to the new forms," she said, sporting a beautiful old anarkali. Explaining their way of life, she said: “We are the same as everyone else at home. Why would it be different?”“Of course, sometimes we are seen in a bad way and maybe that's why a baraat (groom's procession) doesn't knock on our door,” she added, hinting at the irony behind their profession being legal but looked down by society. Terming her performance space as her office, she said, “The women are elder sisters who are paying fees for their brothers and daughters who are running the household. We take money back to the family and it is like any other profession. In the olden times, a tawaif getting gold and silver was the norm, but nowadays we often have to haggle with taxi-drivers to come to our office.” A lot might have changed for the tawaifs over the years, but what has remained intact is their authority, and their beautiful mujraghars that stand as pink-walled buildings, with checkered floors, small rooms with artistic doors and the sound of music. They can still transport one to the old world where a tawaif held a position of respect in society. Santosh Jhanwar, a Jaipurite, observed, "I had no idea that we have this old dance form here. It just adds to our history. I am thankful to the tawaifs for keeping the mujra alive. They deserve more respect for the art they carry in their blood.” Yet, Gulabo and her sister, who perform in the same mujraghar, admit with innocent eyes and beautiful faces that “I don't think I would want my child to continue this. I would rather have them study”.

Read Now  
 5min Read
  
Clad in pride and property: How 'tawaifs' in Jaipur are living their art

Write For 101Reporters

101 Stories Around The Web

Explore All News