A good deal of it, especially of the black, is worked locally into blankets and saddle-bags. Woven in two feet width, two panels in length measuring nine feet each are sewn together to create a single piece. Intricately woven in brightly coloured patterns along the border, the shawls are masterpieces of craftsmanship of the finest order. Unlike some shawls woven with cotton warp, the khatha is still, weft and warp, entirely sheep wool. Rewind a century, the white wool was treated with locally produced vegetable dyes to create the intensely vibrant geometric patterns. Today, synthetic colours are obtained from the wholesale markets of Hyderabad and Karachi. The timeless designs, always angular geometric forms completely devoid of curvilinear or floral shapes, come from a common vocabulary we find in temple and funerary decorative schemes in Sindh and Gujarat that have not changed in a millennium. The length of the shawl has however altered, decreasing to eight feet. In 1906, the typical white khatha could be had for a mere two rupees and was in great demand. In the mid-1990s, it cost Rs. In the retail market of Mithi town today, the finest quality khatha, which now comes in either white or black, weighing 1,200 grams will set the buyer the poorer by Rs. A middling quality weighing 200 grams less will go for about Rs. This is a price set not by the craftsfolk producing this work of beauty. Rather, it is established by the middleman who keeps shop in Mithi town and also supplies the market in Hyderabad. Inevitably, this is grossly undervalued price so far as the artisan is concerned, leaving the fat profit to be gleaned by the middleman. Equally inevitably, it has determined a compromise on quality. Traditionally, khatha craftsman worked in a family unit. The wool procured from local livestock was cleaned and carded by older men. While some yarn was produced on a manual spindle by patriarchs, much of it came off the spinning wheel worked by women. In those bygone days of manual work, a khatha typically weighing 1,200 grams would take about three weeks from procurement of unprocessed wool to the time the finished product was ready to sell. Today it takes five days, for now it is made of wool processed and dyed in the factories of Karachi. To the uninitiated, the modern product may seem very fine but those who know the real thing can tell the difference at first glance. The shift in use of material was determined by the imperative of cutting down on production time because the cabal of retailers pays the artisan no more than Rs. The artisan, belonging invariably to the marginalised Meghwar caste, weighs lightly against the more influential bania and has no say in pricing. So the compromise on material as well as the three qualities of produce. As things stand, the artisan earns a net profit of just Rs. A khatha weaver, spending eight to ten hours at his loom seven days a week, typically earns between Rs. Unsurprisingly, the number of weavers is declining. And there are no apprentices learning the craft. In the last two decades of the 20th century, incipient non-government organisations in Thar as well as an influx of tourists brought about a boom in the khatha makers business. That was when buyers regularly visited weavers at work to see and purchase. This continued until a few years ago when increased travel restrictions made it difficult for Pakistani tourists and impossible for foreigners to travel freely in Thar. Coupled with that, alternating droughts and floods resulted in low agricultural produce reducing the purchase power of local buyers. Naino Ram Meghwar of village Sinyar Nangar, some 20 kilometres south of Islamkot, descends from a long line of weavers. Yet he says he would gladly give up khatha weaving if only he knew another skill. At 38 years of age, he is the last khatha maker of the family for he is not teaching his sons the toil of the loom. Who would want to learn a craft that cannot fill the belly, he asks ruefully? He is no longer making the authentic woollen khatha, says Naino Ram. But he still has the skill and can produce one for a buyer willing to pay the price. He is not alone. Across the rolling grey sand dunes of Tharparkar, there are scores of weavers who despite possessing the skill no longer produce the real item but pass off mere replicas. Previous: , , , , Urdu sad shayeri new shayeri 2016, Two lines shayeri in urdu, Ishaq poetry in urdu, Urdu poetry about ishaq, Poetry in urdu, Urdu poetry in English, The world is with me but I feel alone my self without my love, Painful poetry about world, Ghum poetry in urdu, Urdu poetry about ghum, Urdu poetry of arxi, I want to write something new on my love, Lovely girls poetry, Girls poetry about their sadness, How to find sad poetry, New English poetry with their meaning in urdu, Sad poetry in urdu and english, New poetry in English 2016 with clear wallpapers, Poetry forum wallpapers for poetry, Arxi the poet, arxi poetry in urdu, Two lines poetry urdu and English, English poetry with urdu translate, Very pain full poetry very sad poetry, Every day new poetry about love, Sad urdu poetry in English, Urdu poetries with sad wallpapers, Alone boy poetry, Alone girls poetry, Poetry about alone boy, Poetry about alone girls, The world is nothing without my love, My love is my life poetry, You are my everything poetry, Urdu sad poetry 2016, Sad urdu poetry 2016, new sad poetry 2016, New English and urdu poetry 2016, I miss my love everysecond poetry, Poetry about missing, 'Turwutt came to Nagar Parker at the head of an army in 1858 when Rana Karan Singh ruled over the place. A great battle was fought here in which the English were roundly defeated and had to flee for their lives. The Rajputs went in pursuit, and Turwutt was only able to get away with his life after a Meghwar tanner hid him under a pile of cowhides. Returning subsequently with an even greater army, Turwutt was finally able to overcome the Rajputs of Nagar. And not the one to forget the Meghwar, he allotted him a vast jagir. The tap-tap-tap of his steel tipped cane on the street became more pronounced. From afar the koel called, the moisture laden monsoon wind gusted down the corridor of the street and the old man sat down in the verandah of the ruined hulk at the west end of the Nagar Parker bazaar. I had never read of any great battle between the British and the Ranas of Nagar, I said. At the very end of the bazaar, past the ruined store fronts and houses of the rich Hindus of Nagar Parker's glory days, past the impressive Jain temple, Nawaz Khosa walked up the slight incline. There in front was a length of wall and further on, a subterranean opening that looked like a large water conduit. The wall, according to my guide, was all that remained of the Rajput fortress and the opening led into its basement where a cache of gunpowder was stored. After the defeat while the Rajput chiefs hid in the surrounding Karonjhar hills, the valiant General Roopa Kohli stole into the fortress to remove the cache. He was discovered, however, arrested and tortured. But he gave nothing away, and so he was hanged to death. Khosa offered to walk me to the east end of town to the site of the hanging. Though this was very clearly fable for the granite blocks of the purported castle and the entrance to the underground vaults were cemented together with modern cement that would have been introduced in Nagar Parker by the British, the little known Roopa or Roopla is celebrated in a folk song even today. Sixteen years ago while free wheeling around Thar Desert I had been told that no trip to the picturesque little town of Nagar Parker at the southeastern edge of Pakistan was complete without visiting 'Turwutt jo Thullo' - the Pedestal of Tyrwhitt, for that was how the Welsh name had been translated into the Sindhi and Parkeri languages. The stories my informant told me at that time made out Tyrwhitt as a saint and a demon in equal measure. Here was a man who pursued his official duties, whether to bridle contumacious Rajputs or to provide justice to the aggrieved, with a single minded madness. Tyrwhitt, it was told, was a fun loving man as well who would climb the hill daily to sit on the pedestal especially prepared for him on the windy peak in order to enjoy his drink in the remarkable scenery of the Karonjhar hills. But, it was also said, he was ruthless in his attempts to bring the recalcitrant Rajputs to heel and carried a pair of binoculars with him daily to keep a watchful eye on his domain between sips on his whisky and soda. In 1858 the district of Thar and Parker was detached from Bhoj and placed under the Hyderabad Collectorate. Owing to the more regular system of administration, the Ranas of the desert lost some of the independence they earlier enjoyed, consequently they raised the Kohlis to revolt. On 15th April 1859 a mob burnt down the telegraph office at Nagar Parker, killed a number of the police guard and took possession of the town. That is when we first hear of Lieutenant George Tyrwhitt who accompanied the army with a force of six hundred police levies to restore order. Order was restored, but the miscreants made off to spend the next year as fugitives. When they eventually did surrender, the Rana and his principal abettors were awarded lengthy jail sentences and deprived of their properties, while those who had assisted the government were granted jagirs. The passage of nearly a century and a half had embellished and romanticised the story of a failed revolt with tales of a valiant Kohli general trying to spirit away a cache of ammunition and the defeated white man cowering in fear under a pile of stinking hides. The authorities now saw the difficulties in keeping a vast desert region under the control of a distant administrative headquarters. Consequently in 1860 what now forms the districts of Mirpur Khas and Mithi was detached to form a separate Political Superintendency. The man to head it was George Tyrwhitt. Aitken's Gazetteer of the Province of Sind sic notes that here was 'an officer whose memory is associated in the traditions of Sind with many eccentricities'. Even at the time of his appointment as the Political Superintendent of the district of Thar and Parker, Tyrwhitt was reputed to be 'able, energetic and possessing an astonishing degree of insight into the characters, habits and feelings of the border tribes. But it is intriguing where and how he acquired his 'astonishing degree' of knowledge when we do not hear of him in Sindh prior to his appearance on the scene with his force of six hundred police levies. However, we do learn from the illustrious Mirza Kalich Beg that both his father and grandfather enjoyed friendly relations with Tyrwhitt and that the young Mirza was given an English education on the exhortation of the Political Superintendent. Among the legends regarding the man's singularity of purpose when it came to the job assigned him, one legend still lives: a con artist of his day impersonating as a district administration official complete with his train of clerks and peons visited Thar and Parker. There, right under the nose of the Political Superintendent the impostor received some money from a certain party and gave it possession of a block of land that was another man's rightful property. Even before Tyrwhitt could get wind of the carrying on, the swindler and his party made tracks. As soon as word reached him, Tyrwhitt saddled up and rode hell for leather after the tricksters, and, it is said, after riding non stop through the night came upon his quarry at the edge of the desert. The impostors were tried and sentenced to life imprisonment in the island fortress of Manora outside Karachi. If Tyrwhitt left anything in writing, all or much of it is lost. However, rather unlike other officers of the Raj, he certainly did not leave many photographs: there is but a single portrait of the man on record. This surely is evidence of his shy, reclusive nature. And so we know next to nothing of this mysterious person. But there are oblique references to his falling from grace toward the end of his service in Thar and Parker. There is no official word on how or why he left his position of Political Superintendent in 1873. There is only the reference that he came heavily under debt - a circumstance rather difficult for a man as seemingly reclusive and retiring as Tyrwhitt. It seems that it was the pressure of this debt that occasioned his departure for home the same year as he was removed from his superintendency. The Raj apparently protected its officers' secrets well for we get no inkling of the nature of Tyrwhitt's humiliation. We know that he sailed away for England sometime in 1873. Mirza Kalich Beg wrote that Colonel George Tyrwhitt died 'after 1874' in England; if there was a wife and children, there was no mention. The man who had brought order to the vast desert district of Thar and Parker and ruled judiciously over it for thirteen long years disappeared from official record because of an indiscretion. But for the people of Nagar Parker where he had held court, Tyrwhitt's pedestal on a wind scoured hilltop outside town even today remains very much a tourist attraction. They still flaunt it even when his memory is confused with the accretion of time. The dearth of official record makes it difficult to chronicle the accomplishments of Colonel Tyrwhitt in any detail, but whatever little is available does make one thing clear: here was a man no less in stature than John Jacob or Bartle Frere. But here was a man who missed the Role of Honour because of his reclusiveness. Here was man who missed out on glory because of a minor impropriety. Now, one hundred and twenty five years after his death, let as acknowledge him as one of the able empire builders that he really was. With these words do I celebrate Colonel George Tyrwhitt of the former desert district of Thar and Parker. The Seven Wonders were hardly an objective agreed-upon list of the greatest structures of the day but were, rather, very like a modern-day tourist pamphlet informing travelers on what to see on their trip. Great Pyramid of Giza, Egypt. The Great Pyramids, located at Giza on the west bank of the Nile River north of Cairo, are the only wonder of the ancient world that has survived to the present day. The three pyramids—Khufu Cheops , Khafra Chephren and Menkaura Mycerimus —were built between 2700 B. The largest and most impressive is Khufu, which covers 13 acres and is believed to contain more than 2 million stone blocks that weigh from two to 30 tons each. For more than 4,000 years, Khufu reigned as the tallest building in the world. In fact, it took modern man until the 19th century to build a taller structure. Amazingly, the nearly symmetrical pyramids were built without the aid of modern tools or surveying equipment. Scientists believe that the Egyptians used log rollers and sledges to move the stones into place. The sloped walls, which were intended to mimic the rays of Ra, the sun god, were originally built as steps, and then filled in with limestone. The interior of the pyramids included narrow corridors and hidden chambers in an unsuccessful attempt to foil grave robbers. Although modern archeologists have found some great treasures among the ruins, they believe most of what the pyramids once contained was looted within 250 years of their completion.
