SUM OF ITS PARTS

Indians have been acing mathematics for centuries; just look at what we wear.

- VARUN RANA.

It was my hatred for mathematics that pushed me to pursue fashion design after school ended in 2001. Little did I know that mathematics, with its rules and rigour, would follow me to my refuge, the National Institute of Fashion Technology, New Delhi.

But before reconciling with this betrayal, in the summer of 2002, I went to intern at Weavers Studio in Kolkata. Under its knowledgeable founder Darshan Shah (Darshan Di to all), I worked with a variety of textiles, ultimately falling in love with jamdani akin to embroidery, but done on the loom while the textile is woven into existence.

Jamdani gave me a deep appreciation for the art in the weavers' hands, eyes and minds. Not only must they execute backbreakingly repetitive actions—the geometry of their physical work—but also keep alive the artistic flair of a craft they themselves would almost never enjoy wearing.

This past February, Darshan Di launched 'Textiles from Bengal: A Shared Legacy', opening up her fabled archives and the centuries-old textiles within, describing how jamdani weavers used to sing songs that had—within their rhythm and lyrics—the calculations for motifs they hoped to sculpt on their looms.

To continue producing textiles with a dedicated submission to form, structure and proportion is possibly the most anyone has ever loved geometry, save for our teachers who thought it the simpler of math’s two main branches. How wrong they were. Are.