Dilli-6 is not just a pin code of an area in Old Delhi. It is almost an adjective that describes a way of life. There was a time when some of the most eminent families of Delhi lived in various streets of Chandni Chowk. Some of these neighbourhoods, known as kuchas at that time, like the ones at Sitaram Bazaar, Nai Sarak, Gadodia Market, Khari Baoli and Daryaganj, were almost as famed for their millionaire residents as much as perhaps Palo Alto is today for its tech celebrities.
From the time of Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan – who shifted his capital from Agra to Delhi in 1638 – to long after, this area was known for its fabulous havelis, grand gardens and lively bazaars. It was natural, then, for established and even upcoming seths and sahukars (businessmen and moneylenders) to gravitate toward this area and put roots of their entrepreneurship here. Slowly, a composite culture, a special Dilli-6 way of life, emerged.
Many generations of large joint families would live and work together. There was no concept of privacy or secrecy; everyone knew what was happening in others’ families and businesses. In those days, all seasonal festivals and marriage celebrations were community affairs that went on for weeks. In this scenario, fine clothing defined a family’s social standing. Women’s idea of peak luxury was rich clothes adorned with zari and gota embroidery featuring real silver and gold threads. This demand prompted Ram Swaroop Das Sanghi to start his zari and gota shop in Chandni Chowk in the 1920s. Called Sheo Prasad Shambhuram, it was named after his great Grandfather.
“Our family roots can actually be traced to the Sanghi region of Haryana. Sometime in the 1800s – our elders came to Delhi and started dabbling in various businesses like iron trading and money lending, as was the trend in those days,” says Jagmohan Gotewale, Sanghi’s grandson who now runs a branch of the original business under the brand name, Sanghi Saree Emporium from Chandni Chowk.
In the early 1900s, it became a lucrative business for master craftsmen and textile shopkeepers to cater to the fine tastes of women of royal households, he adds. “Under the stewardship of Ram Swaroop Das ji, the real gold zari and real silver gotawork of Sheo Prasad Shambhuram became known for its authenticity of materials and fine workmanship. No marriage at that time was complete without sarees, dupattas, odhnis and lehengas made by my grandfather. And people were willing to pay for fine craftsmanship.”
Also read: Sita Ram Diwan Chand, Paharganj’s one-dish restaurant selling Lahori chole bhature since 1947
Gota and Zari defined luxury, finesse
The pomp and show of Mughal zenana and other royal households rapidly spread to prosperous families of North India, and the demand for zari and gota work increased. Delhi became a hub for silver craftsmen who churned out more and more fine silver wires. In this pre-industrial era, all work was done by hand. So, the trend of patronising good master artisans and their shops with rich rewards was common.
These thin silver wires were covered with a polish of real gold and made into a delicate mesh. This mesh was covered with glittering, colourful fabric and used to embellish sarees, dupattas, odhnis and lehengas. “Gold was measured in ratti and tola. Experienced people like my father, Basheshar Nath Gotewala ji, could tell how much gold was used in a garment simply by weighing it in his hand. The value of a saree or lehenga was according to the amount of gold and silver embedded in the garment,” says Gotewale, adding that these make for some of the most valuable items in any wedding trousseau.
“Trust and credibility about the authenticity of the precious material used was the most important reason for the popularity of our brand.”
Creating dresses with so much gold and silver enmeshed inside needed an extremely strong fabric to hold its weight. Lying on the Silk Route were cities like Xian, Kandahar and Samarkand, from where merchants delivered the finest quality silks that formed the base for these exquisite gota and zari garments. Thans or hefty rolls of silk would be delivered at various hubs in Chandni Chowk by travelling caravans of cloth merchants. These supplies would finish in no time because it took textile workers three to 10 months to complete one zari and gota saree. In those days, nothing at shops was available on display. Virtually every fine piece was made to order because of the high cost of gota and zari.
“These gota sarees were forever. Pieces were handed down from one generation to another,” says Gotewale, underlining the quality of work and the longevity of these garments. “You would be surprised to know that the daughter of one very eminent politician from the 1960s era contacted us, and she wanted to sell her mother’s saree. She was expecting no more than Rs 20 to 30,000 for it. I had one look at it, and I advised her that it’s an antique piece, so she should keep it carefully. I told her this piece could fetch her lakhs from an informed collector. Sure enough, she called back a few months later and confirmed what I had told her,” he adds.
Also read: Hindu College—a revolution started by businessmen, championed by freedom fighters
The evolution of gota and zari
With fashions changing, thick silks gave way to flowing crepes and chiffons, which again came from China through the well-established Silk Route. Colourful crepes and chiffons adopted gota work with local prints such as Western India’s lehariya and batik. This hybrid of Chinese cloth, Rajasthani designs and Delhi gota became a steady favourite of the royal gharanas of Rajasthan and Gujarat over the next five to six decades. But some unusual combinations came up too. “My father, late Basheshar Nath Gotewale ji, used to tell us that the then President of India, Dr Rajendra Prasad ji’s family, would send us hand woven Khadi on which they would ask us to do our best quality gota work. We made a lot of these innovative sarees whenever there was a marriage in their family,” says Gotewale.
The fine gota work and its superb quality were noticed by the British, too. Slowly they pulled in top artisans to make military badges, braided caps, ornamental belts and shirt buckles. This became another steady stream of work for purani dilli craftsmen, which continues even today. This may be one of the reasons why military memorabilia shines undiminished for a long time.
However, in the last three decades, the contours of this industry have changed dramatically. The authenticity of gold and silver was reduced in zari and gota work. The demand slowly dipped, so master artisans moved out of Delhi to small, niche hubs like Varanasi. Today there are very few orders for real silver or gold zari work. Even top national and international designers who charge big money hardly ever use real silver or gold in zari and gota.
“After a long gap, recently, a customer got real zari pieces made from Varanasi and told me to create a bridal saree from that. I got all the zari pieces checked and found that some of the zari had copper wire and mesh. I put all the pieces in front of the customer and handed him the report. We don’t let artificial stuff enter our workshops,” says Gotewale.
Philanthropy used to be a big part of the Purani Dilli tradition. “One of the biggest parks in Model Town, having an approximate area of 11 acres, is named after my father to honour his selfless contribution to the welfare of society. My father, Basheshar Nath ji, established the Gota Salma Association to bring all craftsmen under one roof and fix a minimum assured fee to safeguard their rights,” says Gotewale with pride.
“He also empowered women by giving them gota and plain fabric, which they could hand stitch at home. It is because of these initiatives that the industry gave my father the title of ‘Gotawale’ – a name we all proudly continue to carry.”
This article is part of a series called BusinessHistories exploring iconic businesses in India that have endured tough times and changing markets. Read all articles here.
(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)