Magic February 13 2013, 0 Comments
The day always begins bright in Jaipur.
Living with two fabulous girls, the three of us in design, means that without fail, the door bell frantically rings at 8.00am.
There are two painters who are back for the 100th time to repaint your house.
The tailor, who is soon becoming a fellow housemate arrives, tangled in swatches of fabrics for your approval.
A random 90 year old gardener discreetly floats by you in his white 'lungie' to save your attempt at a jungle terrace.
All the while coffee is overflowing in the kitchen, fresh fruits are being chopped and plans for the day are bouncing off of each person that passes by.
Your breakfast meeting then simmers and your working day begins.
You skip pass wild bougainvillea outside the house, waving at your smiling neighbors, inhaling the absolute exotic bliss that is your life.
Right before you crash. Hard. Into reality.
There's been some major confusion. The design which you handed to the block printer more than a month ago seems to have been used as a coaster for a paint bucket, as a result is no where near being made. The fabric you imagined your entire line of bed linens to be made in hasn't arrived from Calcutta, and will probably never arrive. Your order sheets have been misplaced - which technically means you don't exist.
Ah yes, the familiar roller coaster of emotions begin.
But that is what we love about Jaipur. One can be sure that a day does not pass uneventful. No emotions are spared. All senses are undoubtedly exasperated. Your breath is constantly cut short by a lingering date that floats in your mind - you know you're never going to make it - 1000 meters of fabric can not be printed in thirty days - there really is no point, you may as well quit while you're ahead. Quit now.
And then you enter the workshop. The artisans are jolly, they laugh at your impossible orders, they tease you with the potentiality of failure, they reassure you that it will all work out in the end. And you know it will. Then, with the precision of surgeons they begin. Chisiling at their blocks, creating colors from dust, stretching fabric so it's tightly crisp and printing in perfect rhythm. Everything makes sense.
The artisans are magic.