Walk the narrow lanes of Banaras and the hum of looms follows you like a heartbeat. It isn't only the sound of weaving — it's the sound of continuity, of a centuries-old conversation between warp and weft. This is the story of the looms themselves.
✨ Fun fact: A single intricate Banarasi can need between 1,500 and 2,500 punch-cards to weave — every punched hole a tiny instruction the loom “remembers.”
We've written before about how a Banarasi is woven, step by step. Here we want to look at the machines themselves — the looms that made all of it possible, from the ancient and almost mythical to the mechanised.
The draw loom: the ancestor of all
The earliest loom of Banaras, the naqshaband draw loom, was a marvel of human patience. Every thread of the pattern was lifted by hand, guided by a system of cords, with an assistant — aptly called the draw boy — perched above to help the master weaver. This loom birthed the earliest brocades, where florals, creepers and Mughal paisleys came alive, painstakingly slow but breathtakingly precise. As weavers still say: design is not drawn by pen, it is drawn by patience.
The pit loom: Banaras beneath the ground
The pit loom is the soul of Banaras weaving. Dug into the earth, it lets the weaver sit low with legs inside the pit, working the treadles below. In many homes of Varanasi the loom was built into the very architecture, so the rhythm of weaving mixed with the rhythm of daily life. An old weaver once told a visiting researcher: our houses are built on looms — we do not just live here, we weave here.
The backstrap loom: the weaver's wanderer
Simple, portable and intimate, the backstrap loom tied one end to a tree and the other to the weaver's waist. In the villages around Chunar and Mirzapur, women were known to sit beneath mango trees and weave stoles and angochhas for household use. This loom carried not just threads but stories — woven in between daily chores, songs and conversations.
The frame loom: order and portability
Made of wooden rods set at right angles, the frame loom is like a woven box. In the twentieth century, weavers carried miniature versions abroad to demonstrate India's handloom heritage; at exhibitions, these tiny looms became ambassadors of Banaras craft, showing the world how patience and skill could outshine machines.
The Jacquard revolution: when the gods gave more hands
In the early nineteenth century, Joseph-Marie Jacquard's invention changed Banaras weaving forever. Punch-cards now controlled the lifting of warp threads, allowing one weaver to produce what once needed two. An elderly master in Alaipur put it beautifully: when the Jacquard came, we felt the gods had given us more hands. From 1,500 to 2,500 cards for a single saree, every punched hole became a silent design-memory — the meeting of tradition and technology. And yet the loom beneath remained a handloom: the cards choose the pattern, but a person still throws the shuttle.
The powerloom: a bitter arrival
With mechanisation came the powerloom — fast, and unfeeling. A saree that took weeks by hand could be churned out in a day by machine, its sharp metallic clatter often drowning out the softer rhythm of the handloom. A Lancashire folk ballad from the Industrial Revolution captured the same heartbreak on the other side of the world, telling hand-weavers their looms must come down and their work move into the factories. In Banaras too, the powerloom displaced many families: what was once craft became commodity, and many weavers were forced into other trades.
Keeping the looms alive
At Khinkhwab we see these looms not as relics but as living companions of history. The pit loom still beats in the bylanes of Alaipur; the Jacquard still sings its coded songs in Madanpura. The powerloom's shadow is real, but it has not dimmed the dignity of the hand. As one weaver told us on a field visit: our looms are our ancestors — to abandon them is to forget our own tongue. And so we keep them alive, in our heritage pieces and our bridal weaves, so the hum of the loom may never fall silent. You can see what these looms produce across our handwoven Banarasi collection — and read more of the story in The History of the Banarasi Saree.
Frequently asked questions
What kind of loom is a Banarasi woven on?
Traditionally a pit loom or frame loom fitted with a Jacquard mechanism. The Jacquard selects the pattern via punch-cards, but the weaver still works the shuttle and treadles by hand — so it remains a handloom.
What is a draw loom?
The oldest patterning loom, where a draw boy seated above lifted the pattern threads by cords while the master weaver wove. It produced the earliest Banarasi brocades before the Jacquard arrived.
How is a handloom different from a powerloom?
A handloom is worked by a person, who throws the shuttle and operates the treadles; a powerloom is mechanised and far faster, but produces a flatter, mass-made cloth without the depth and finish of handwoven silk.
What changed when the Jacquard arrived?
It automated the lifting of warp threads through punch-cards, so a single weaver could create elaborate patterns that previously needed a weaver and a draw boy. It made dense, complex brocades far more achievable — without replacing the human weaver.
Sources & further reading
- Jaya Jaitly, Woven Textiles of Varanasi (2014).
- Tarannum Fatma Lari, Textiles of Banaras: Yesterday and Today (Varanasi: Indica Books, 2010).
- Khinkhwab Fabric Stories: how a Banarasi saree is woven.
