We set out to unravel the mystique of the ancient craft Paithani which might have ended just as footnotes in history if the government of Maharashtra had not stepped in and set up 28 looms in Paithan as well as an educational centre in 1995 to revive the market for these traditional creations. Purchasing a new Paithani has become akin to investing in jewelry because it can be handed down from generation to generation and has virtually become a status symbol. The Paithani has a long life expectancy – a bent old weaver displayed a rare one and juxtaposed it against the new one in which the design had been faithfully copied. “To make even a copy of the original can take as long as two years and can cost two lakh Rupees," he said as he draped a couple of the vivid deep purples, blues and red confections on his arms, talking rapidly about the colour, texture, sheer and ultimately of the intricate handiwork. The technique uses multicolored silk weft threads to create intricate patterns on a gold background. The overall effect is similar to that of a Meenakari, enameling on jewelry. The ancient weaving technique was used throughout the world, in the Coptic textiles of Egypt, in the pre-columbian textiles of Latin America, and in China’s intricate silk hangings ( ko’sseu ). Central Asian nomadic weavers created gelims with this technique on simple mobile looms from ancient times. The technique was possibly brought to India by migrations from central Asia in the ancient past. Examples can be seen in the gelims of the North India, as well as the intricately woven Navalgund Jamkhans of the Karnataka in South india. It is possible that the technique was adapted for the weaving of intricate borders and cross borders of saris for royalty. Paithan today is a simple taluka town in Aurangabad District, and a quite religious place on the northern banks of the river Godavari in Maharashtra. Gone are the days of palaces and kings, of Sanskrit pundits who held forth on the Vedas, of preachers and their religious discourses. Gone, too are the days when Paithan was a prosperous trade centre called Pratishthan and exported rich fabrics and precious stones to far off lands. Yet, a glimmer of the glorious past carries on – not handed down by kings and princess, or even by learned men – but by patient weavers working endlessly at their humble looms – an indelible heritage, a sari called Paithani, a poem in silk and gold. The town has grown considerably in the last few years following the construction of the Jayakwadi Dam and the boom in the tourism industry. On the outskirts of the town, away from the din and bustle, in a cluster of the tin-roofed workshops which shelter a few families of the weavers who continue to keep alive a noble tradition – the weaving of the handsome Paithani – the only visual link between the glorious past of Paithan and the ravaged ruins that haunt the present town. There was a time when the Gods of Paithan found a home in a faraway Rome. There was flourishing trade between Paithan and many European cities. The place finds reference even in the Hindu Legends. But as has been the fate of most great kingdoms, Paithan too suffered a downfall, causing a sudden and an inexplicable decline in the trade. The greatest jolt was felt by the weavers, who not only lost the patronage of the king and other royal families but also were unable to compete with the machine-made products. The Paithani represents the continuity of the tradition as we see in the verses composed by the poets through the centuries. True, the Paithani brings nostalgia, but it also instills a sense of pride and security. It is a part of the ritualistic bonding of the whole community. Independent India sought to rediscover its lost traditions in several spheres of skilled endeavour. But Renaissance came late to Paithan. Meanwhile, the market was flooded with the textiles from Benaras, Calcutta and kanchipuram. Even Pochampalli and Tussar silk became well known in India and abroad. The weavers of paithan remained totally ignorant of the renewed interest in the handlooms. Besides, their infrastructure was pitiful. No loan facilities, long electricity cuts, and heavy taxation. A high capital was required for production, but the returns came late and remained unpredictable. The Middlemen swindled them anyway. Naturally, the younger generation began to give up their priceless craft heritage in sheer frustration. The Paithani is not just as silk of gorgeous colors, intricate design and painstaking labor. It is part of a culture given more to thrift than flamboyance, but which also treasures elegance and beauty. It tells us of people who were willing to spend lavishly to clothe their womenfolk in nine yards of traditional silk and spun gold, crafted by indigenous weavers. No Maharashtrian wedding trousseau was complete without the Paithani sari and Shela or stole, the best the family could afford. They then became treasured heirlooms