Day 80-A Weaver's Tale

This is my second carpet (8 1/2" by 5"), finished in the wee hours of this morning (2/7/09), 48 days after my 1st stitch.

I am pleased with it, only because my 1st one was really bad. Yes, the one that took me 81 days!

This time, I followed Casey's advice closely. I used a frame, 3 threads instead of 2 and I poked instead of scooped. Now if you do not know what in the world I am talking about, then I am afraid you have to go start and stitch your 1st carpet.

I enjoyed working on this piece tremendously because for the first time, I could see how it would turn out nicely for a change. This must be how the nomadic women felt when they weaved their carpets and really, there were moments when I felt suspended in time, transported to where they were, as I stitched away, lost in my own pleasure.

Do you know that carpet weavers are also story tellers? In their canvas of wool and cotton, with their coloured threads, these women could be sharing with you their daily lives. If you are lucky, you can find in those rare pieces where in the symbols she designed, never planned and always spontaneous, a master weaver could be recounting the tale of how a fool parted with his money.

And so like these women, I weaved studiously, not only an Afghan carpet but also a story. Hardly an original tale, this is a common folklore recounted whenever an Indian child wants to hear an amazing elephant story. So here it is,

A Weaver's Tale

This is the story about Mahmood

and an elephant.

It was a hot summer day and Mahmood was roaming the harsh Rajasthani desert.On a hike through the bush,
he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mahmood approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found large pieces of wood deeply embedded in it.
As carefully and as gently as he could, Mahmood worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.

The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Mahmood stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

Mahmood never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

20 years later.....

Mahmood was walking through the Bombay Zoo with his teenage son.

As they approached the elephant enclosure,

one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mahmood and his son Mahmood Jr. were standing.

The large bull elephant stared at Mahmood, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man. Remembering the encounter 20 years ago, Mahmood couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant.

He summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure.

He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mahmood's legs and slammed him against the railing,

killing him instantly.

Poor Mahmood, he realised too late that this probably wasn't the same elephant.

I want to dedicate this post to Casey, who has given me invaluable advice and without whom, there will be no elephant story weaved today.