The humble gamchha finally gets its due

If there’s one fabric that could win the award for Best Supporting Actor in the grand production of Indian life, it’s the gamchha. Humble yet heroic, this rectangular piece of cloth has been quietly holding things together—sometimes literally—across the country. Now, it finally gets its moment in the spotlight with Gamchha: The Extraordinary in the Ordinary, an exhibition at the National Crafts Museum & Hastkala Academy in Delhi, running till March 10, 2025. And let’s be clear: this is no ordinary towel display. This is high art, fashion, history, poetry, and nostalgia, all woven into one.

The exhibition, a brainchild of Dastkari Haat Samiti founder Jaya Jaitly, showcases gamchhas from every corner of India. Ever wondered how a simple cloth can have so many personalities? In Kerala, the crisp white thorthu isn’t just a humble towel, it’s also practically a household heirloom. Wrapped around waists, draped over shoulders, or tied dramatically around heads post-head-bath (a classic mom move), it’s everywhere. In Karnataka, the haigal meli exudes rugged charm, draped over shoulders with an air of “I could build a house with my bare hands, but I choose not to”. Meanwhile, in Assam, the gamosa is a cultural icon woven with intricate motifs, often gifted as a mark of respect—like the original influencer PR package. In Bihar and UP, the red-and-white gamchha is the unofficial uniform of street philosophers, rickshaw drivers, and anyone who can still relate to Amitabh Bachchan’s ‘angry young man’ phase. In Bengal, a gamchha might be a picnic blanket by day and a makeshift turban by night, because Bengalis love a multi-purpose investment.

Jaitly reminds us that the gamchha entered the urban person’s dictionary not more than five years ago but has always been an essential to the working class. “The basic gamchha is rooted in the working class—the farmers, the vegetable sellers, and the roadside marketeers, those who carry gamchhas on their cycles and wander around trying to sell [their wares]. These are simple people, and I want the fashion and textile-loving world not to let them go unnoticed.”

The exhibition is far from a static display—it’s an experience. You will find artisans weaving there, tracing the evolution of the gamchha from utilitarian cloth to high fashion. And this exhibit isn’t just about looking at cloth—it’s about reimagining it. Origami artist Ankon Mitra suspends folded gamchhas from the ceiling, giving visitors the surreal experience of walking under a sky of checkered dreams. Rias Jaipur founder Avishek Mandal’s installation takes a more nostalgic route, tracing the journey of the gamchha through time, with suspended shuttles symbolising the act of weaving. The installation also features a transistor playing old Bengali melodies—a love letter to the weavers whose craft was often accompanied by the crackling tunes of All India Radio.

Visitors at the exhibit will also realise that the gamchha has inspired more poetry than a tragic Bollywood love story. The exhibit walls are covered in verses that celebrate its everyday magic—like the Assamese Bihu folk song that offers a gamosa as a blessing for a prosperous life, or the cheeky Kannada proverb that declares, “I don’t need a degree, just a haigal meli towel on my shoulder and a whole lot of attitude!”

One of the biggest takeaways from the exhibition—apart from the sheer versatility of the gamchha (seriously, is there anything it can’t do?)—is its role in reviving a craft that was slowly slipping through the cracks of modernity. Take Village Crafted Grama, for example. This Kerala-based initiative, founded by Seema Soby Kurian, is bringing back the state’s traditional thorthu. Cherthala, a village once home to weavers in South India, was losing its weaving legacy to mass-produced power-loom fabrics. But thanks to this brand, the thorthu is back in business—and not just in bathrooms. Every gamchha sold helps fund books and pencils for local children, proving that tradition, when nurtured right, can create a future as well as preserve the past.

At its heart, the gamchha remains the great equaliser. It’s used by farmers and film stars, by monks and mechanics, by weavers and wanderers. It soaks up sweat, carries fish, shields from the sun, swaddles babies, and even makes an emergency curtain when modesty calls.

The exhibition has also spotlighted Bengal-based brands like Rimil Design Studio. The studio is proving that necessity truly is the mother of reinvention. Tasked with increasing the daily wages of the weavers making gamchhas for them, the brand had an ‘aha’ moment: Why not use the gamchha’s natural 36-inch width to create stoles and dupattas? Soon, they were crafting sarees, running fabrics, and even finer weaves, breathing new life (and business) into a textile that had been typecast as a humble hand towel for far too long.

Of course, with any cultural resurgence comes the tricky conversation about where appreciation ends and appropriation begins. Mitra acknowledges the tension: “Cities like Delhi, Mumbai, and Bengaluru are already quite cut off from rural realities. Exhibitions like these help us reconnect with those cultural nuances while ensuring the gamchha’s legacy isn’t stripped of its original context.” He credits organisations like the Dastkaari Haat Samiti for ensuring that innovation goes hand-in-hand with respect for the original artisans. “The important thing is to position elements like the gamchha in a city context, increase its visibility, and then use that new positioning to create novel business opportunities for the original weavers in the hinterland.”

At its heart, the gamchha remains the great equaliser. It’s used by farmers and film stars, by monks and mechanics, by weavers and wanderers. It soaks up sweat, carries fish, shields from the sun, swaddles babies, and even makes an emergency curtain when modesty calls. It has also starred in countless silverscreen moments—whether wrapped around Aamir Khan’s waist in Lagaan or as a Cannes red-carpet accessory for Anurag Kashyap, draped nonchalantly over his designer suit. And yet, it’s never been fully celebrated—until now.

Gamchha: The Extraordinary in the Ordinary is on at the National Crafts Museum & Hastkala Academy in Delhi till March 10. For more information, visit dastkarihaat.com