From Khar to fibre

Guwahati, Sept 27: “Aita’r posola” — an antiquated metaphor to refer to the nostalgic bond of the older generation with the younger one — is also a testament to the popularity of the innocuous banana plant amongst the Asomiya people through the ages. If you have a backyard, you would inevitably have a kol gos. From paat’ot diya maas (fish wrapped in banana leaf) to Khardwi (an alkaline Bodo dish), the banana plant is indispensable in Assamese cooking. And, indeed, in its religious and social life. Think of Diwali and images of shiny, green banana plants with neat rows of earthen lamps placed on bamboo planks crop up. A wedding and the pulao-mangxo is served on a banana leaf to satiate guests. But what came as a surprise was the use of the banana plant as fibre, a part of a final year project at the Assam Textile Institute — to roll out handmade bags, cushion covers, lamp shades, table runners, pen stands and trays — all without the use of harsh chemicals or dyes.

“Unlike in this region, in Japan, banana fibre is widely used as a blending material in the textile sector. In fact, the Japanese currency notes (the Yen) are made out of banana fibre! There’s a high demand for it in countries like the USA, Malaysia, Korea, the European Union, etc. So, exporting banana fibre will bring in substantial foreign exchange,” asserts Dr. Dipul Kalita, Senior Principal Scientist, North East Institute of Science and Technology (CSIR-NEIST), Jorhat, whose core research has been on fibre science and technology.

“Musa balbisiana, or bhim kol, is native to the Northeastern states. It is often found in the wild. An ancestor to modern bananas, its tensile strength makes it ideal to be used as fibre. A group of final year students has come up with an innovative project to make products out of banana fibre,” explains Tanmai Das, HoD, Assam Textile Institute, as he asks the excited group to take me around the institute.

The first technical institute to be established in the State, it began as a weaving school in 1920. Located on the busy Ambari Road, the government institute offers diploma courses in three streams — textile technology, garment technology, and fashion technology. The young group, comprising of Partha Pratim Nath, Raha; Shilpi Saikia, Bokakhat; Dipshikha Devi, Rangiya; Kaushik Bez, Guwahati; Iqbal Qoraishi, Chandrapur; Dhritiman Kashyap, Guwahati; and Astha Doley, Dhemaji, point to a grove of banana plants on campus. This is where their story started roughly five months ago. “I remember Deuta telling us as children, kol gos ouxudhi gos. As a farmer’s son, I also knew it was similar to jute. It had a pseudo-stem and was a natural fibre like the former. Kaushik also pointed out that it was eco-friendly. Iqbal noticed that banana plants also generate a lot of waste; after harvesting the fruit bunches, the plant is cut down. Only a few are fed to wild elephants,” Partha gave me an overview as we settled down on one of the classroom benches.

The group looked up journal papers online and came to the conclusion that this huge waste, roughly about 60 tonnes per hectare, is the biggest problem for farmers, and if tackled appropriately, could be a breakthrough. “But the real question was: how would we extract fibre from the pseudo-stem?” That question could only be answered once they attempted to do so; 40 plants on campus which had already borne fruit were cut down to extract fibre. Around this time, the group attended a xokam or a prayer meeting at Dipshikha’s house where they noticed the dunga — a curved platter made out of banana stem to offer proxad. “But what we forgot was how badly our clothes would be stained,” Dipshikha laughs as she recollects. Nevertheless, after they stripped the outer seven or eight black-green layers, a pale white layer emerged. If theycut further, they would have come to the softest part — the posola, a local delicacy — but unsuitable to extract fibre. “We thought it was a doomed project as it was very labour-intensive: combing for at least an average of five to six hours using a helai brush (the kind we use to remove fish scales) was tedious. But after we persisted for a week or so, we were able to remove the gummy substance, and the fibre part emerged.” They referred to local knowledge and boiled the fibre in a simple salt solution and let it sun dry. The students were excited but doubtful. Even if the fibre was extracted, would it actually convert into a product?

The uncomplicated tray was the first item of choice — the frame was bamboo with strips of banana fibre wound round it tightly. “We simply took three strands and interlaced them, beni guthar nisina. Ultimately, hair is like fibre only, na!” Astha quips. The group also filed into the Pragjyotika store next door and came upon jute and meteka products, secretly excited that their product was unique. It was the burst of confidence they needed — a bag followed next, modelled on a thermocol mould for shape and decorated with wooden beads. By this time, the group had gotten really ambitious. Could they try making clothout of this fibre? Or in Partha’s words: “Puk etai dhorile maane, aaru laage, aaru laage...” Making yarn, they knew, would be difficult. The material would probably be too rough. They made use of the college lab to experiment with a range of softening agents and came up with one that worked. The recipe, they say, would have to be a ‘secret’ for now. The next steps for someone familiar with weaving were standard — attach three thin plys for the bobbin using a kaathi or a thin stick. Fix the ply on the warp sheet; divide into two layers to enable interlacement. Iqbal interlinks his hands together to show me... one-two... one-two... It was hand-spun cloth made the old-fashioned way. The only catch was, banana fibre entangles quickly. It took infinite patience and many cups of laal saah.

Dhritiman, the artist in the group, gave the finishing touches to the lampshade, choosing a cave design, “As you can see, I used mehendi instead of synthetic colours.” Sticking to their resolve of using natural colours, they also explored eco printing. “Here at the institute, we teach printing, not eco printing per se. But they picked up — notice this beautiful purplish flower on the cushion cover?” asks Tanmai. It was the aparajita flower magically drying to a rich purple. The utilitarian neem too looked transformed. A one-of-a-kind print that captures the beauty of Nature.

I decided to ask one last difficult question: But would you be able to make money out of it? The group showed me a detailed costing plan —according to which even if 60 per cent of the produce gets sold, a craftsperson could earn around Rs. 23,000.

This hardy fibre has the look and feel of cotton and the charm of jute. Importantly, for our climate, it becomes stronger with water and not weaker. According to a 2011 study by DoNER, the North-East region will be seeing extreme rainfall events in the years to come. Such a situation has ‘led many farmers around the world to turn to fruit production, such as bananas, as a coping strategy (Zhu et al., 2021)’. Shouldn’t we too be taking the banana route to financial and ecological security?

By

Nasreen Habib