While I was recording the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves and of footsteps on dry leaves in the hills in Manipur for a current film project, I heard on my earpieces a weak sound of something familiar I had practically forgotten to be still existing–weaving on a loom. The sound from my childhood. My aunt, my father’s younger sister, on whose back I grew up as a child. She used to weave. (Mother too.) I often went to the main market in Kakching to buy yarn for her.
I turned my mic to specify the direction the sound was coming from, then followed the sound track, and I heard the volume and clarity of the sound increasing as I got nearer to the source.
Higher up the hill in one of the cottages a woman was there weaving on her loom. I recorded as she weaved.