[Taba Yami]
Pvdu, also known as pud and pudu, depending on regions, is a traditional fabric once worn by the Nyishi people. This fabric remains only in fading memories and steeped in history, nearly lost to time. The first mention of it came in 2024, when a friend brought it up, sparking our curiosity. As we dug deeper, we discovered that the practice of making and wearing pvdu had largely faded away, but we were determined to document this ancient tradition before it was forgotten forever.
Driven by hope and a strong sense of purpose, we travelled to Jeju Dadda, a village in East Kameng district. Upon arriving, we enquired about the pvdu fabric, and many villagers shared nostalgic stories, particularly the women who used to weave it. Despite our efforts to identify the plant used in the fabric, we could not locate the plant. News quickly spread throughout the village that two people were searching for the pvdu plant, and every conversation begins with the question, “Did you find the plant?” and the villagers reminisced about their parents wearing the pvdu fabric and their own childhood memories of it. However, the younger ones did not know about the existence of such plant and a fabric known as pvdu that was worn by their ancestors. With the rise of modern fabrics, pvdu had fallen out of use. The villagers explained that the plant, no longer in demand, became rare and no longer grew to its full potential. Additionally, mithuns often grazed on it and foreign plant species were making it harder for the pvdu plant to thrive.
As the days passed, our hope began to wane. However, in a final attempt, one of the resource people, Dangchi Dada, recommended that we visit her jhum field. With the assistance of a few villagers, we made our way to myobi, a jhum field left to regenerate. To our astonishment, we found a few plants still growing. From that moment, we began the painstaking process of crafting the pvdu fabric. The entire documentation was made possible solely through the memories of Mecha Dada, our invaluable resource person, who shared her childhood recollections of making pvdu with her mother.
When the final piece of fabric emerged from the loin loom, we were extremely overwhelmed. The struggles, setbacks, and persistence we faced to document this lost tradition suddenly felt worth it. The pvdu fabric was not just a product of our ancestors’ skill; it was a testament to their resilience and wisdom, a legacy that had endured for generations.
Pvdu is not merely a fabric; it is a symbol of a rich cultural heritage, deeply woven into the history of the Nyishi people. Once a vital source of economy, it was also a mark of social status, craftsmanship, and the stories of our ancestors. The fabric was not just something worn, it represented the knowledge, skills, and traditions passed down through generations.
The significance of pvdu stretches far beyond its use as clothing. It is deeply intertwined with myths, folksongs, folk stories, and other traditional knowledge. Each thread woven into the fabric carries with it tales of the past – stories of resilience, community, and the profound connection between people and nature. For those who made and wore pvdu, it was a tangible representation of identity, skill, and pride.
In this modern age, it is easy to lose touch with traditions, but by holding onto these practices, we preserve the spirit of our ancestors for future generations. The rediscovery of pvdu serves as a powerful reminder of the rich cultural heritage that shapes who we are today.
As the knowledge of making pvdu fades into the memories of the older generation, it has become increasingly critical to preserve this traditional fabric before it is lost forever. Documentation through videos and photographs is just one aspect of preservation, but true preservation can only occur when the fabric is used in its original form by its people.
As the villagers aptly put it, “gacchi luko bhi sharam lagta hai jab humlo gusko use nahi karta hai (the plant feels shy when we don’t use it anymore).” This statement reflects a deep truth – when something is no longer used for its intended purpose, it loses its essence, and over time, it fades away. The pvdu plant, once a thriving part of the landscape, is no longer growing to its full potential because the tradition of using it has been abandoned. It is a clear reminder that cultural practices, like the plants they rely on, will only survive as long as they are actively practiced.
But it is never too late to revive what has been nearly forgotten. In recent years, we have seen the rise of modern fabrics making their way into traditional attire, but why not rediscover and reuse the fabric that is deeply rooted in our heritage? By embracing and utilising pvdu once more, we would honour not just a fabric but an entire cultural legacy – preserving the skills, stories, and wisdom of our ancestors.
Preserving pvdu is not just about safeguarding a piece of fabric; it’s about preserving a way of life, a connection to our past, and a vital part of our identity. Now is the time to reclaim and revive it, before it slips away completely.
As I reflect on this journey, I am deeply grateful to my resource persons for sharing their invaluable knowledge, and to the people of Jeju Dadda for their warm hospitality and willingness to impart their wisdom. Additionally, heartfelt gratitude to the members of Centre for Cultural-Linguistic Diversity (Eastern Himalaya), with support from the Firebird Foundation for Anthropological Research, for the opportunity to document this fading tradition. Without their support and guidance, this documentation would not have been possible. (The writer is a PhD scholar at the Arunachal Institute of Tribal Studies, Rajiv Gandhi University, Rono Hills.)
