Pochampally: The Village of Textile Art 

Segment-1 : The Feeling

Some places become more than just locations. They become experiences which we cherish till the end of our lives. For many people, Pochampally may just be another village. But for me, it became one of the most beautiful escapes of my life. On 21 June 2026, I joined the Shuttle Society’s second Photowalk at Pochampally. It was a full-day photography trip. 

At the beginning of the day, I kept asking myself one question: 

“What kind of pictures I should be taking in this journey?” 

For a while, I had no answer. I had this silent confusion and struggle in me. But I just brushed it off and slowly started walking through the roads observing the people, without thinking about a frame to capture. 

Then I realized something. Every time I go for the photography, it was always how should I click the best and thought provoking picture, So for a change instead of making this journey about myself, I decided to make it about the people who live there.

Segment-2 : The Rebirth 

The moment I changed my perspective, everything became clear at the place,I started noticing the old faces. 

The tired yet strong hands. 

The small cuts left by threads like bruises of warrior. 

The skillful yet calm eyes of the artists.

In most places, an artist is one in a million, very rare to be seen. But here, the entire village was filled with such artists.

THIS IS ART!!

During the visit, I was told that weaving a single saree takes around 30–45 days. 

It is not simply weaving. The journey begins with preparing the thread. 

Then boiling, setting, designing the graph, tie-and-dye, colouring, rolling the thread, setting it again, and finally weaving it into a saree.

It is a long and beautiful process just the same as anything in life that generally matters is that all this effort is for the decoration of the single lady that’s how we treat women in this life .

This is the elegance of the true beauty of devotion towards the women in our life  

I may not remember every technical step perfectly, but what stayed with me was never the process. It was the emotion and the intent of the artists.

Segment-3 : The Struggle 

I noticed the palms of the weavers. Their fingers carried permanent marks left by years of working with thread. Every mark on their hands told the story of the time, patience and dedication required to create a single saree. A saree may cost anywhere from ₹1,400 to over ₹1 lakh. Most people see the price. But I began wondering..

• What are we actually buying? 
• A piece of fabric? 
• Or thirty to forty-five days of someone’s life? 
• If I gift that saree to my mother, what am I really giving her? 
• Money? Or love woven into cloth? 

That thought stayed with me,I wished I could weave something with my own hands for my mother. Not every step of the weaving, but some effort from my side in one of the steps. Not because it would be expensive. But because she would know that I spent my time, effort and love making it for her. 

Unfortunately, my daily life doesn’t allow me to do that. Sometimes I wonder why life has become like this.  We carry so much love inside us, yet we struggle to express it. Showing love to the people who matter most has somehow become difficult.

Segment-4 : The Pure Emotion 

While listening to people in the village, someone said something that saddened me. They spoke about the slow disappearance of hand weaving. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

• How can an art that carries so much life slowly fade away? 
• Why are most weavers elderly? 
• Where are the younger generation? 
• Why do only experienced hands carry the marks of thread? 
• Will there be young hands carrying those marks someday? 

As I walked through the village, and glanced at my own life I realized. 

Everything has become deeply numeric or a business, instead of what it felt like….. That’s the reason people are migrating to cities, working the hell out and silently carrying a small pain of not able to express such effort directly to loved ones. 

Not to blame the kids there, considering their financial situations. At least, people who are planning for their next vacation can go there and experience the magic of doing something by hand. 

That way, the livelihood of the people there will be maintained and people also get to experience something real and beautiful. Win-Win for both.

As I have continued walking, I saw an elderly couple. The woman wore a beautifully woven saree. Suddenly, a story appeared in my mind.

Segment-5 : The Story

I imagined a man from many years ago spending weeks weaving that saree with his own hands. 

Every thread carried his patience, love and desire to impress her…. 

When his wife wore it, it was like an angel mesmerizing his eyes… in full of her beauty and feminine divinity… Looking at her husband with a sense of fulfillment and happiness. She wasn’t just wearing a saree. She was wearing a piece of his heart and effort which he never said out loud but quietly enjoyed. 

All of the effort is nothing for him, when he get to see satisfied and happy face on his woman. I guess many people can relate, considering they looked at their loved ones in a pretty dress gifted by them. If not, what are you waiting for??

I wanted to ask someone whether such stories had ever existed. 

Then I stopped. 

Sometimes not knowing the truth is beautiful. Some stories deserve to live as possibilities. Some magic should never be explained. I want to keep this imagination alive. 

Maybe one day, at some point in my life, I will learn to weave a saree for my mother. Maybe this blog won’t inspire thousands of people or even a few hundred. But if it inspires even one person to express love through effort instead of words, that will be enough. 

Today, love is often reduced to coffee dates, clubbing, travelling or expensive gifts. But maybe love is something much simpler.  

Giving your time,Your focus,Your dedication,Your sacrifice. 

Working with your own hands just to see the smile on someone’s face. 

This story doesn’t belong to the hundred people who never take the first step. It belongs to that one person who chooses effort over convenience. I hope this art never fades.I hope it continues to live through the younger generation. 

Because some crafts are not just traditions. They are love, woven into threads.

“దారపు పోగులు…. తొలి సూర్యకిరణాల లాగా,

ప్రతి హృదయాన్ని కొత్త ఆశతో అల్లే‌….  

ఓ అందమైన అల్లిక….” 

These are the words of unconventional & underatted photographer. — Bharath Vamshi (@bobby_shots)

Thank you Shutter society for this life time memories….