This is my ‘misar’, a beautifully red and black tie-dyed silk scarf that was handed down from my nani, my maternal grandmother to my mum and is now kept close to me in my home. This ‘misar’ represents the bundles of fabrics that travelled with Indian migrants as they moved across the world, specifically in my case, on the ships that brought the first passenger Indians from Gujerat to the shores of Natal, South Africa. Textiles are performative in its use, embodying the identity and practices of those who wear and use them.  In the book ‘Nanima’s Chest’ by Zuleikha Mayet she collects and documents the many fabrics from the homes of the Indian Diaspora within her community, my community in South Africa. She tells takes of the ‘petis’, traditional Indian chests, either made from carved Cedarwood or hammered Zinc and the fabrics that filled them. These chests would be in the homes of many mothers and aunts. Oral histories tell of ‘Jari Khala’, a Gujerati term for gold aunty, who carted two huge tins filled with embroidered gold and silver clothes that she filled in her bags from Surat to sell to Indians in Johannesburg. 

Amongst the diverse materials that migrants have carried with them, textile plays an important role in the material practices of migrant identities. Textile provides a valuable insight into the aesthetics and ethics of “everyday life”. Migrants often use soft materials, such as textiles and moveable objects, not only as garments and ornament but in the literal construction of their spaces. They also employ ‘soft’ spatial systems and practices with invisible qualities that are transmitted across locations and generations. These textiles capture the diverse biographies of people wo have travelled great distances and have carried with the very few objects, but most importantly bring with them the experiences, memories, knowledge and practices.