Although I bought my first Maniabandhi pata (silk sari) with my very first lecturer’s salary in December 1981, for the thirty‐five years that I’ve been wearing Maniabandhi saris, made in the villages of Maniabandha and Nuapatna in Odisha, I knew very little about the weavers who make them. I have always been drawn to the vibrant colors, texture and striking symbols (conch shells, lotuses, elephants, lions and wheels, etc.) of these saris. When I came to the U.S. in 1989, I was surprised to see my Odiya
friends going to parties in their fashionable synthetic saris made of materials like chiffon and georgette. Trying to fit in with my new circle of friends, I went along with the trend and quickly started collecting synthetic saris too. But my love for Maniabandhi has endured. Whenever I go to Odisha, I visit the emporiums for the latest Maniabandhi designs and have proudly collected them as markers of my own personal identity.
In the last few years, I have been pleasantly surprised to see the turning of the wheel with more and more Odiya women in the U.S.A favoring Maniabandhi saris over synthetic ones for festive occasions. It is quite common these days to see these saris at weddings, sacred thread ceremonies, and birthday celebrations. On a recent visit to Bhubaneswar, I was greeted by a fashionable Indian‐born entrepreneur from the Bay Area with an inquiry about where I got my sari (“I want one exactly like it.”) I explained that I had been given that particular Maniabandhi sari as a gift at a wedding in the Bay Area; Maniabandhi saris have acquired iconic status and at weddings, it is often this type of sari which is exchanged as a gift between the bride and groom’s family and friends.
In 2007, in the course of my research on Buddhism and its practice in Odisha, I visited Maniabandha and Nuapatna and discovered that the weavers of these saris are predominantly Buddhists. I was surprised to find the practice of Buddhism in this village as a living religion because the textbooks tell us that Buddhism had practically disappeared from India long ago. In our own time Dr. Bhimrao Ambedkar, the eminent political leader who is remembered as the father of India’s constitution, revived it as a religion of protest. Born to a lower caste family in pre‐British India, Ambedkar had suffered from insurmountable caste discrimination and had adopted Buddhism in 1956. That is how, in the mid‐twentieth century, Buddhism resurfaced as a movement of protest against the caste hegemony and oppression in India ‐ especially in the western states of Gujarat and Maharashtra. While growing up, I was totally unaware of the practice of Buddhism anywhere in Odisha.
My trips to Maniabandha in 2007 and subsequently in 2011 made me aware that Buddhism is a vibrant and living religion there – and has been for some time. From talking with the village weavers, I learned that they have been practicing Buddhism for generations. Some of them believe that their ancestors had migrated to Maniabandha from Burdwan in West Bengal. This claim is supported by the genealogical account of several families I collected during my research. The time I spent in Maniabandha gives me hope to find the practice of Buddhism in other areas of Odisha as well.
During my visits, I saw that each member of the family ‐ men, women, and children – were involved in weaving the saris (coloring the thread, putting the thread into the loom, working on the patterns, finishing the sari, etc.). Learning the trade is part of their daily life. Women of all ages are the producers of the textile. They take pride in their creation and display their creative work in exquisite patterns. It is a common sight to have a loom in the entrance room and a few more small ones around the house.
The weavers say that their weaving is in line with their practice of Buddhism. As one of the villagers put it, “We are weavers. We do not kill animals. If we plough the land, we may have to destroy lives. With weaving as a profession, we do not tell lies, we do not cheat. Also, we do not have any rich man or family in the village.” Weaving jibes with their collective self‐image as honest people. This claim indeed stands out in contemporary India, reeking with news of corruption. According to the villagers, if they were engaged in agriculture or any other sector of the village economy, they would have to participate in violence at some level; weaving allows them to remain true to their Buddhist value of non‐violence. They also take pride in being vegetarians and abstaining from alcohol. Many of them even avoid eating onion and garlic because they are considered tamasic food.
I also learned that there is hardly any outward migration from Maniabandha. The young and old continue to live in the village because they each have a significant role in their traditional occupation – weaving. Weaving Maniabandhi saris has provided them with a meaningful occupation which helps them to construct their identity and makes it possible for them to keep their tradition and modern life side by side, as they themselves have lived side by side with their Hindu neighbors. In contrast, my home village, just twenty kilometers away, has been completely transformed by the new economy of India. In just one generation, my village has been revolutionized by the money flowing in from the mining business in Odisha. I could not recognize a single house from my childhood because all of the houses have become pukka mansions. I saw people driving to their homes in brand new Mercedes and BMWs ‐ which I had not even seen before leaving India in 1988. I was moved to see the contrast between the display of new wealth in my village and the state and national award‐winning patterns and designs of traditional Maniabandhi saris spread on the walls of Maniabandha.
The weavers, who are predominantly Buddhists, have learned to live side by side with their Hindu neighbors in more ways than one. I discovered that saris are specially woven for Lord Jagannath, Balabhadra and their sister Subhadra for various religious occasions by the artisans of Maniabandha and Nuapatna. As per the Madala Panji of Jagannath Temple, Puri, this must have been going on for several hundred years. The weavers of these villages also produce saris for the goddess Lakshmi with nine motifs – e.g. lotus, elephant, temple, peacock, water pot, conch cell, butterfly, and deer. They not only celebrate each other’s feasts and festivals but also participate in each other’s ritual performances. The Buddhist weavers of Maniabandha are well aware that they are combining Hindu and Buddhist symbols. Buddhist symbols such as lions, swans, and lotuses, and orange and red colors, are visible on the Maniabandhi sari. Hindu symbols such as temples, swans, lions, water pitchers and roses are woven along with them, making a very intricate pattern.
In their daily rituals, these Buddhists continue to worship Hindu gods and goddesses, and they do not see any contradiction in doing so. Maniabandha has established five Buddhist temples, which look like Hindu temples, where both Buddha and Hindu Gods are worshipped together. The village temples are adorned with the statues of Buddha and other Hindu deities, mainly Jagannath, Balabhadra along with Subhadra. They are worshipped side by side and are offered prayers, chantings and evening arati together. This common worship of Buddha and the Hindu shrines symbolize the religious acceptance of both the communities. The people reason out that Jagannath is the very embodiment of Buddha and refer to their age old tradition of making the Khandua sari for the lord, making them indispensible in serving the Lord Jagannath. Since Buddhists and Hindus live side by side in these villages, that co‐existence is reflected in the objects they produce as part of their everyday lives.
Like their Hindu neighbors, the Buddhist weavers practice endogamy, but unlike the Hindus, they have not been affected by the practice of dowry, so common in Odisha and the rest of India. This consumerist mentality underlying the demands of dowry from the bride’s family has become so rampant in present day India that it may be one of the major causes of physical abuse and assault of women in their affinal families. Some of the women in Maniabandha took pride in telling me that their young women do not suffer ostracization in finding a marriage partner because of lack of money. Marriage takes place mainly within the Buddhist communities spread out between Maniabandha and Nuapatna and a few other villages like Ragadi and Choudwar in Cuttack district. Instead of dowry, the families emphasize communal feasts in order to celebrate with their extended family and the community.
Each person in the village is looked upon as a producer because of his or her active role in weaving. I came across one interesting case. A single mother was sharing her life story, “I have been very sick, constantly in and out of the hospital. But both my daughters are taking care of me. They said, Ma, do not worry. We will weave saris and will take care of you.” Clearly, girls are as valued as their brothers in this community. However, when it comes to education, there is a twist. Parents are not very enthusiastic about sending their daughters for higher education. The villagers realize that their daughters already have gainful employment as weavers, which they may not have after their high school or college education. I met a very bright girl who earned first class in her high school and intermediate college examination. When I asked her whether she would continue her studies, she replied, “It is up to my father whether he will let me go for higher education.” When I asked her father, he responded, “I do not have any objection to her higher education, but she has tons of work at home and eventually will get married.” These days, undoubtedly new opportunities for educated women have started to appear in rural areas. In Maniabandha, I met a woman in her twenties married into the same village. She is a very skillful weaver, a mother of a toddler, with a college degree who is teaching in the Buddhist school in the village established in 2010. She said, “It is not easy to juggle all the different responsibilities of being a wife, daughter‐in‐law, mother, teacher and a weaver.” I was surprised to learn that she was also privately preparing for her BA degree. She said that her Buddhist faith gave her the courage and patience to manage all her responsibilities.
The villagers of Maniabandha have maintained their unique status by a distinctive way of life that they have carved out for themselves. I noticed that every Buddhist house is adorned with Buddha’s statue painted on its front wall or front door as every Hindu house has a Jagannath painting. In decorating their houses for weddings and other festive occasions, they have images of Buddha and segments of the Jataka stories painted on their walls.
Even though the Buddhist weavers in Maniabandha and Nuapatna live side by side with their Hindu neighbors, their way of life is distinct. In the rapidly changing modern India, they are maintaining their traditional occupation while catering to the growing demands of the Maniabandhi saris popularized by the forces of globalization. What I find remarkable about these weavers is that their way of life allows them to have best of both the worlds. They have an occupation tied to their religion that provides them with a meaning in their life and lets them incorporate markers of tradition as well as modernity. By welcoming the visit of His Holiness Dalai Lama ‐ the living Buddha ‐ to their village and sending their saris to the international market, they are participating in the global economy while maintaining their traditional occupation and Buddhist way of life. The villagers in Maniabandha are incorporating the best of both the old and new world. Maniabandhi Sari, the symbol of traditional values, has become the means by which they hope to succeed in the twenty‐first century.
