Did you see the dim light in the weavers home? Did you see the pregnant wife of the artist struggle while traversing the path to reach the hospital? Did you see the child of the artisan run behind kites bare footed in the afternoon sun? His bare back burnt by the harsh rays as his father weaves fabric for you and me. But his kids don’t have a new shirt, even when the fabric is loosely tied and the thread is worn out with time.
It’s so easy to look away from the little thread that runs through your yarn of fabric. This fabric is created with hope. India is home to different arts and crafts unique to each state. In my blog, it’s just an mere endeavour to reach out to you as you buy a handmade product. Those trembling hands of the artisans, who are feeling lost and helpless, may regain their confidence with your endorsement. We are nothing without one another. Just as the harvest depends on the shifting seasons, we are all connected equally and harmoniously.
Help Me Help Them…
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