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Datta Sonawane’s journey to rafugari began out of necessity. With no livelihood opportunities in his village, he moved to Pune and was drawn to the craft after watching his uncle work. (Express photo)
Every morning, Datta Sonawane makes the familiar journey from Patas village in Daund taluka to his spot outside Life Dry Cleaners on East Street in Pune Camp. And for 32 years, he has practised a skill with such precision that its greatest achievement is invisibility: rafugari, the traditional craft of seamlessly repairing damaged textiles.
“The hallmark of good rafu work means blending into the background design so much that one should get confused where the damage was if asked to point out later,” says Fakruddin Ansari, another artisan based in Wakad who has been practising the craft for three decades.
Ansari says, rafugari, which gained prominence in the 1700s, originated in Kashmir and Central Asia. This craft flourished across North India, Iran, and Uzbekistan, where skilled artisans, known as ‘textile physicians’, would embroider intricate designs on clothes and repair antique shawls for royal families and the wealthy.
“Rafu was more than just physical repair. It was used to hide economic loss. Fallen royal families across princely states in the country secretly repaired their clothes to present a well-to-do front to the world,” Ansari explains.
Fakruddin Ansari, based in Wakad, says rafugari originated in Kashmir and Central Asia where skilled ‘textile physicians’ would embroider intricate designs on clothes and repair antique shawls for the wealthy. (Express Photo)
Today, these craftsmen use meticulous patchwork and tana-bana (interlay) techniques to fix tears in garments, like in Pashmina shawls, Banarasi sarees, and others, so perfectly that the mend becomes undetectable.
Sonawane’s journey to rafugari began out of necessity. With no livelihood opportunities in his village, he moved to Pune and was drawn to the craft after watching his uncle work. Through observation and trial and error, he developed expertise in the field. For over three decades, he has regularly travelled by train between Daund and Pune, a distance of around 65 km each way, to practice his craft.
What keeps Sonawane and Ansari committed to their work isn’t just income, but the stories woven into each garment they touch.
“Most customers who visit love their garments because there are memories attached to them, like someone’s mother’s saree, father’s shirt, or a wedding suit,” Sonawane says. “Some keep repairing the same outfit multiple times because they consider it auspicious. People also prioritise comfort over money. Some pay Rs 500 for rafu on jeans worth Rs 700.”
His clientele spans all age groups, though he notes that mostly elderly and those wanting to preserve heirlooms from past generations seek his services. “I have worked on garments which are 80 years old,” he adds.
The value of his work is evident in the trust his customers place in him. “People agree to pay what I quote because some outfits like jeans and lehengas cost lakhs. I have repaired jeans worth Rs 50 lakh.”
Rafugari demands both skill and patience. Patchwork involves replacing damaged parts with identical fabric, while tana-bana requires removing threads from the garment’s hidden areas to seal holes, matching the weave and pattern exactly. “It requires patience and is quite time-consuming as the entire work is done by hand. The rate of work depends on the type of cloth and how much time it will take,” Sonawane says.
But the meticulous nature of the craft comes with challenges. “Most customers demand it to be done immediately, which is not possible,” Ansari said. “One mistake can force rework on the entire patch.”
“The most challenging part is finding threads matching the colour shade of the outfit. A small mistake in picking the colour can make the patch visible,” he adds.
Years of repetitive work have also taken a physical toll on the artisans. The small, repetitive motions and firm, sustained grip required for rafugari strain the tendons, joints, and muscles. “Over the years, repetitive handling of clothes causes hand pain, and I’m now taking medical treatment for pain relief,” Sonawane says.
Ansari faces similar challenges. “Rafu work impacts eyesight. Long hours of focusing on minute, intricate details often result in severe eye strain and blurred vision.”
Despite earning around Rs 40,000 to 45,000 per month on average, Sonawane says the craft has an uncertain future. “Rafugari is a dying craft facing extinction due to evolving fashion, changing consumer behaviour, and a lack of interest from the younger generation,” he says. “Rafu charges have increased because the number of artisans has fallen drastically.”
His own sons, both in their final year of graduation, have shown no interest in learning the craft. “Taking it forward has become difficult,” Sonawane says.
Yet he refuses to let the craft disappear without a fight. “I’ll definitely work till my body supports, but to keep rafugari alive, I would teach it free of cost to those who are interested in it,” he says.