Field Notes · No. 001
Ajrakhpur
Three years after a college assignment first took him to Kutch, Sahil Meenia went back to a village built around one cloth, to find out whether a centuries-old block print could live on contemporary silk.
Part One
A journey towards cloth
I first visited Ajrakhpur in 2021 while studying Fashion Design at NIFT, New Delhi. As part of our curriculum, every student had to visit a craft cluster somewhere in India. For most people it was another college assignment, but for me it became something much bigger.
Even during my summer vacations, I would travel to different parts of India to visit craft clusters on my own. I wasn't doing it to source fabrics or complete a project. I wanted to understand how these crafts existed in their own environment, how people lived, how they worked, what they wore every day, and how these traditions had managed to survive for so many generations.
Before that trip, Ajrakh was just another chapter in a textile book. I knew it was a traditional hand block printing craft from Kutch, Gujarat. I knew it used natural dyes and wooden blocks. But reading about a craft and experiencing it are two completely different things.
When I reached Kutch for the first time, I remember thinking how different everything felt from the rest of India I had experienced. The landscape was dry and open, the villages were quiet, and everywhere I looked, people seemed deeply connected to their culture. Clothing wasn't something people wore for festivals or special occasions. It was simply part of everyday life.
That trip completely changed the way I looked at craft. I realised that a craft isn't just a technique. It's a reflection of the people, the place and the culture it comes from.
Three years later, while preparing Hindostan Archive's first Paris Fashion Week collection, Indian Summers, I returned to Ajrakhpur. I wanted to explore how this centuries-old craft could be interpreted in a contemporary way. Could Ajrakh work on silk? Could traditional block printing become part of a modern wardrobe without losing its identity?
I travelled by train from Delhi to Ahmedabad and then to Bhuj. I prefer trains because they let you experience the country between destinations. From Bhuj I took a local shared tempo, got down at a small sign that simply read 'Ajrakhpur', and walked the remaining distance under the summer sun.
As I entered the village, fabrics drying outside homes and stacks of wooden blocks immediately reminded me why I had returned. This wasn't just a village where Ajrakh was made. It was a village built around Ajrakh.
Part Two
Inside the workshops
Finding the workshop
One of the first places I visited was the workshop of the Khatri family. I spent time understanding their work and hoped to collaborate, but as a young brand we simply couldn't afford it at the time. Instead of leaving, I continued walking through the village and eventually found a smaller workshop belonging to Afzal Khatri. We spoke about the Indian Summers collection and began experimenting with how Ajrakh could live on contemporary silk garments.
Four days, sixteen samples
For four days his workshop became my temporary studio. We explored shelves of archival wooden blocks, some nearly a century old, and developed around fifteen to sixteen print samples. Every day was spent discussing layouts, colours and techniques rather than simply producing fabric. I also began working with Abbas Ismail Khatri, and today both collaborations continue.
The Dyes
What patience decides
One of the things I admire most about Ajrakh is the patience it demands. A single fabric passes through repeated cycles of washing, printing, resist printing, dyeing and drying.
Natural dyes made from ingredients such as indigo, madder, turmeric and iron respond to sunlight, water and temperature, making every piece unique. With Afzal we primarily develop our silk Ajrakh fabrics, while with Abbas we work on cotton developments and new print layouts.
Coda
Looking back
What has stayed with me most isn't just the craft itself, but the relationships that began inside those workshops. When I boarded the train back to Delhi, I wasn't returning with just fabrics and samples. I was carrying sketchbooks, photographs, new friendships and a much deeper understanding of Ajrakh.
Working directly with artisans changes the way you see a garment. You begin to understand everything that happens before the fabric reaches your hands, the wooden blocks, the natural dyes, the countless stages of printing, washing and drying, and most importantly, the people behind every step.
Our relationship with Afzal has grown alongside Hindostan Archive. We started by developing twenty or thirty metres of fabric every couple of months. Today we work together almost every month, continuing to experiment while staying true to the craft.
One of the reasons I wanted to write these Field Notes is because most of these stories never leave the workshop. When someone wears an Ajrakh garment, they see the finished piece, but they don't see the conversations, experiments and days of work that came before it.
This is the first of many journeys I'll be documenting as Hindostan Archive continues travelling across the Indian subcontinent, meeting artisans and learning from the crafts that inspire our work. This was my first journey to Ajrakhpur, but it certainly won't be the last.
Field Notes No. 001, recorded in Ajrakhpur, Kutch. Words and photographs by Sahil Meenia, with Afzal Khatri and Abbas Ismail Khatri.
