Baft Hawa
[2026 - ongoing]
Ram Prasad Basak (53) from Kalinarayanpur began weaving as a teenager. Phulia, West Bengal, July 2026.
The Story of a Textile
In the 18th century, Europe’s royal courts were mesmerised by whispers of a legendary textile so fine it was practically indistinguishable from the thin layer of dew that gathers on blades of grass on early winter mornings. Known as ‘baft hawa’ or ‘woven air’ and rumoured to be woven by mermaids, fairies, and even ghosts in India’s mystic forests, this ethereal fabric was a favourite of French Queen Marie Antoinette, Empress Joséphine Bonaparte, and English author Jane Austen.
In reality, this was ‘muslin’ — a fine, handspun, gossamer-like textile made from a rare cotton plant known as ‘phooti karpas’ or Gossypium arboreum var. neglecta by Bengali women weavers of Jangalbaree, Sonargaon, Teetbari, Dhamrai, and Bajitpur villages near Dhaka, in present-day Bangladesh. According to one 19th-century Arab traveller, this fine fabric was so fluid you could pull a bolt—a length of 300 feet or 91 metres—through the centre of a ring. Muslin gets its name from the ancient city of Mosul in modern-day Iraq. In the 12th century, Arab traders took fine, handwoven fabrics made in Mosul to Europe, where it became popular as ‘muslin’ or fabric “from Mosul”. But long before Mosul, weavers in Bengal—now divided between India and Bangladesh—were making even softer, finer cotton fabrics known variously as ‘shabnam’, a fabric as fine as morning dew; ‘abrawan’, a fluid, semi-transparent, water-like textile; and ‘nayansukh/tansukh’, or the pleasure of the eyes/body, a legendary fabric mentioned in the 16th-century Mughal gazette Ain-e-Akbari by Emperor Akbar’s court historian Abul Fazal; and ‘Jamdani’, a fine, lightweight handspun fabric with embroidered floral motifs and patterns.
The workshop of Mangal Basak, a third-generation weaver based in Phulia. Phulia, West Bengal, July 2026.
In the Mughal period, Jamdani became the most popular muslin fabric in South Asia. While its origins remain shrouded in mystery, records in Mughal documents show that a cottage industry producing high-quality Jamdani was well established in the Bengal region by the time of the Mughals. The fine, handspun, handwoven, and hand-embroidered textiles made here were known as ‘Jamdani’ because of their distinctive floral motifs, and the name comes from the Farsi ‘jam’, meaning ‘flower’, and ‘dani’, meaning ‘vase’.
Master weavers like Subrata Biswas (44) work an average of 12 hours per day. Phulia, West Bengal, July 2026.
Light as a feather and transparent like water, historical Jamdani fabrics were supposedly a favourite of the Mughal poet-princess Zeb-un-Nissa. Even during the Mughal period, these textiles were prized possessions cherished by royalty and aristocrats. The Jagath Seth family, the bankers to Mughal emperors in Delhi and the Nawabs of Murshidabad, were also in the muslin trade and believed to have owned two lengths of precious Jamdani muslins, 12 yards long and one yard wide, with thread counts between 600 and 1000, which only weighed 7 ounces or just over 200 grams.
When the Europeans first arrived in India, they were astonished by the quality and diversity of India’s indigenous cotton textiles and its extensive trade networks, which exported these textiles as far as China and Europe through the Silk Road. Soon, however, the Europeans took over these trade networks, and Indian textile exports to Europe grew exponentially, with Bengal being the largest contributor. At one point in the late 18th century, Indian textiles
accounted for almost 2/3rds of the British East India Company’s exports, and the company started exploiting farmers and weavers by lowering purchase prices and taxing exports.
accounted for almost 2/3rds of the British East India Company’s exports, and the company started exploiting farmers and weavers by lowering purchase prices and taxing exports.
By the early 19th century, Britain became the largest producer and exporter of cheap, mass-produced textiles to India, and the value of Bengal Muslin diminished rapidly. Cotton farmers and those involved in spinning, dyeing, weaving, and muslin production lost their livelihoods and moved on to other occupations. As a result, the once-lucrative Indian textile industry dwindled. Within a few decades, the muslin industry was reduced to a shadow of its former glory.
Parul Biswas works in traditional handloom at the Nutan Phulia Tantubay Samabay Samity. Phulia, West Bengal, July 2026.
And yet, the legendary Jamdani textile survived. From Dhaka, the centre shifted to Tangail, on the banks of the Brahmaputra River, where the Basaks continued to produce handspun, hand-dyed, handwoven, and hand-embroidered Jamdani textiles. Here, the textile became popular as ‘Tangail taant’ or simply the ‘Tangail textile’ after its new terroir.
After the Partition of India in 1947, most traditional weavers, including most of the Hindu Basak community, migrated from East Pakistan—now Bangladesh—to West Bengal, India.
Between Two Homelands
After the Partition of India in 1947, most traditional weavers, including most of the Hindu Basak community, migrated from East Pakistan—now Bangladesh—to West Bengal, India. This process of migration intensified
in 1965 and reached its peak in 1971, during the India-Pakistan War and the Bangladesh Liberation War. With these weavers and artisans, the textile tradition, too, migrated to India, where it thrived in Nadia and Murshidabad.
in 1965 and reached its peak in 1971, during the India-Pakistan War and the Bangladesh Liberation War. With these weavers and artisans, the textile tradition, too, migrated to India, where it thrived in Nadia and Murshidabad.
In Phulia, the Basaks began producing textiles following the same techniques from Tangail. Although the textiles produced here were not as fine or transparent as the classical Jamdani made in Dhaka and Tangail, these new weaving clusters helped preserve the Jamdani textile tradition.
Here, the Tangail tradition encountered the centuries-old Shantipur lineage, producing the distinct Phulia Tangail marked by restrained ornamentation and extraordinary attention to detail. To protect artists and weavers from
exploitative middlemen and the growing threat of cheap power-loom imitations, weaving cooperatives emerged in the 1970s. Today, the Phulia weaving cluster is India’s only centre for traditional Tangail weaving. But the number of handlooms has sharply declined—from nearly 75,000 to fewer than 20,000 in just two decades—and younger generations are leaving the craft behind, threatening its survival. In January 2024, West Bengal received the coveted Geographical Indication (GI) tag for ‘Tangail Saree of Bengal’.
exploitative middlemen and the growing threat of cheap power-loom imitations, weaving cooperatives emerged in the 1970s. Today, the Phulia weaving cluster is India’s only centre for traditional Tangail weaving. But the number of handlooms has sharply declined—from nearly 75,000 to fewer than 20,000 in just two decades—and younger generations are leaving the craft behind, threatening its survival. In January 2024, West Bengal received the coveted Geographical Indication (GI) tag for ‘Tangail Saree of Bengal’.
Shefali Basak (43) drums yarns onto the loom. Phulia, West Bengal, July 2026.
The story of Phulia is the story of the Indian subcontinent itself—of arbitrary borders drawn through living cultures, of communities uprooted, displaced, and remade into shadows of their former selves, and of knowledge surviving in the hands of artisans. The Tangail weave endured because generations of weavers carried it across historical ruptures that erased homes, livelihoods, and geographies, preserving an entire textile tradition through memory, labour, and migration.