08 janvier 2018

SEWING STORIES (II)


I had to tell you about Mar's sewing machine. 
Mar, my tailor, is a lanky figure with bright eyes and a large smile. He exudes humility but whenever he sits at his machine, his slow yet confident gestures, operated by long expert fingers, commend respect, at least for the easily-impressed neophyte. 

A quick glimpse at Mar's den will tell you what kind of tailor he is. His craft shop is as neat as his sewing. Not much mess on the floor, neatly folded pieces in progress on the side and a triumphantly seated, polished yet flaking, Pfaff oldie on the table, with a couple of bobbin-holders which resemble scale pans, all the more so as they are crowned with prayer beads, supposed to ward off the evil and bring blessings. It is surmounted by a double hook through which the thread goes to finally end up in the machine. 


Mar says the pans are built-in but I feel this is a local, yet again savvy, interpretation of the bobbin-holder. 


You draw, Mar sews. But before, he listens in humble silence with frequent nods of the head, as if to take in your vision, knowing exactly when to object and when to concur, when to frown upon what may be deemed as excessive shortness or smile at fanciful requests. 

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