The Enduring Thread: Ludhiana's Daresi Craftsmen Keep Manjha Tradition Alive

Step into the bustling heart of Ludhiana, specifically the Daresi Mohalla, and you might just catch a glimpse of a dying art – one that generations of craftsmen have painstakingly perfected. Here, amidst the everyday sounds of the city, a quiet battle is being waged: a fight to preserve the soul of traditional kite-flying through the creation of authentic, handmade manjha.

For centuries, the hands in these workshops have mixed age-old concoctions: finely ground glass, perhaps a touch of maida, rice, even eggs, all blended just so. This unique paste is then lovingly applied to cotton thread, layer upon careful layer, before being left to dry under the sun. It’s a slow, precise dance, requiring incredible patience and a true artisan's touch, resulting in a string that’s not just strong but also remarkably supple and, importantly, biodegradable.

But oh, how times have changed. Today, these dedicated artisans face a formidable, almost overwhelming adversary: the cheap, ubiquitous plastic or nylon string, often known as 'gattu' or 'Chinese dor.' It’s faster to produce, costs a mere fraction, and, let's be honest, offers a brutal strength that's hard to beat in a casual tug-of-war in the sky. For many, it seems like an easy, practical choice.

Yet, this modern marvel comes with a dark, deeply unsettling side. Believe it or not, this 'stronger' string is also incredibly dangerous. We're talking about sharp, nearly invisible lines that can terribly injure birds mid-flight, even electrocute them if they snag power lines. And for us humans? Think nasty cuts, even severe injuries, often on busy streets during festivals. It's truly heartbreaking, frankly, to see the toll it takes, despite governmental bans that are, frustratingly, often ignored.

The statistics are stark, almost heartbreaking. Imagine dedicating your entire life to a craft, only to see its demand plummet by a staggering ninety percent. That's the harsh reality for many Daresi families. Most have had to abandon their ancestral calling, seeking other ways to put food on the table. It's a tragedy, really, watching such rich heritage slowly, quietly fade away.

But here's the silver lining, the enduring spirit that truly inspires: a tenacious few, like Ramesh Kumar, a sprightly 62-year-old carrying on a legacy, refuse to give up. For them, it’s not just about business; it’s about honouring their forefathers, preserving a piece of cultural identity. They toil on, often relying on the unwavering loyalty of long-time customers who still cherish the nuanced 'feel' of a genuine, hand-crafted manjha, understanding its superior quality and traditional value.

And then there’s Basant Panchami, that wonderful festival of spring. It offers a glimmer of hope, a temporary surge in demand as purists and traditionalists seek out the authentic experience. For a brief period, the streets of Daresi hum with a renewed, albeit fleeting, energy, reminding everyone of the joy and tradition that true manjha brings.

So, as we look up at the skies, perhaps at a colourful kite dancing on the wind, let's spare a thought for the hands that spun its thread. Let's remember the Daresi craftsmen, these quiet guardians of tradition, who, against all odds, continue to fight for the soul of Ludhiana's kite-flying heritage. Their resilience isn't just about manjha; it's a poignant reminder of the enduring power of human spirit and the irreplaceable value of craftsmanship in a fast-changing world.