(Published yesterday...)
…I would have dry towels. Blame it on the monsoon, but my towels never dry fully. Neither does anything else, not unless it is almost pure polyester or some other drip dry fabric that practically repels water and seems like manna from the gods of mercy against mildew. So doing laundry during the three-odd months that it rains in Mumbai can be a nightmarish experience. Things tend to get dirty easily, what with all the mud around, and need to be washed regularly, but never seem to dry completely so that they can be stored. Towels, especially, since they need to be used more, are constantly made damp after baths, hand washes, drying dishes, whatever. And since they are part of the hygiene process, they need to be clean, both visibly and otherwise.
So just before the monsoon every year I have a good scrabble through the linen closet. With Small Cat burrowing into piles of sheets, ambushing me from under heaps of sandalwood-scented blankets and leaping over stacks of pillowcases, I work hard to sort the towels-that-dry from towels-that-never-dry-enough. The first to make the latter type are the new acquisitions; like new handkerchiefs, new towels seem to be waterproofed in some way, perhaps with starch or some kind of fabric softener that makes them appealingly fluffy and soft, just what you always want in a towel that you will wrap yourself in. Be it various Turkish towel offerings from Bombay Dyeing, Welspun, store brands and more esoteric ware from high-street boutique home-stores, all priced between about Rs 99 to Rs 2,500, it is only after a couple of washes, and vigorous ones at that, that the fabric becomes truly absorbent, mopping up whatever moisture it is required to mop up, be it just-washed dishes or bodies. And gradually, the older they get, the rougher they tend to become, providing a delicious scouring of skin as they wipe away all those beads of water. Just when you have them at that perfect consistency, when they wipe, rub and then line-dry without too much aggravation, it is time to turn them into dusters or use them to line the linen closet where they once occupied pride of place. Some towels have a synthetic component. They dry fast. But they do not feel like they mop up quite as well as the real thing.
But tradition – as is often the case – has the answer to this problem, at least for me. The thorthamundus, thin cotton bath sheets that are used in south India (often seen in Malayalam movies wrapped around the women’s freshly washed hair), are perfect for this time of year, or any time that there actually is rain. They vary in quality from loosely woven roughness that has raw edges and uneven texture, to more fine pieces that have a neat ‘temple’ style motif at each corner, usually in red or green, are nicely finished at the hems and thicker, finer and more regular in the weave. These useful swathes are generally found in stores in the south Indian strongholds of the city, like Venkateshwara Stores and Mahalakshmi Stores in Matunga, branches of Cooptex, and various other outlets. They are now also available at Fabindia outlets. They may seem inadequate or not very chic, but serve their purpose well, as they have done for generations, mop up moisture, dry off quickly in a gentle breeze and can double up as a mini-mundu, mini-lungi or lower body covering, at a pinch. Maybe Ranbir Kapoor should have used one of these when he had his big towel moment.
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