Male Garments in Mughal-Era India circa 1574

by Anne Harwood

for the Scholars of St. Thomas Aquinas, 2008

 Introduction

It was not very long ago that Western scholars believed that sewing was virtually unknown by the inhabitants of India prior to the Islamic invasion of the twelfth century.[1] Given that several traditional pieces of Indian garb are (essentially lengths of unstitched textiles wrapped around various parts of the body) namely the turban, the sari and the dhoti, or loincloth, a casual observer may have concluded that Indians, especially in the South where these garments predominate, were unacquainted with the art of plying the needle. 

In reality, Indians had of course been sewing well in advance of the Delhi Sultanate. There are, for example, images of women wearing cholis (a short, fitted bodice) in the Ajunta cave paintings, dating from the 1^st to the 6^th century C.E.[2] And there is significant evidence, from the diary of Emperor Babur, to support the view that the jama (tunic) was worn by men before his invasion of India in the first quarter of the sixteenth century.           

Textiles and Dyes

The cotton plant, Gossypium arboreum, is native to the area around the Indus valley, providing since ancient times a source of yarn that was cheap and readily available. The Greek historian, Herodotus, wrote in the 5^th century B.C.E., “There are trees which grow wild, the fruit of which is a wool exceeding in beauty and goodness that of sheep. The Indians make their clothes of this tree-wool.”[3]

The earliest textile finds

 were made at Mohenjo-daro, an archeological site of the 3^rd millennium B.C. on the Indus River. There, woven and madder-dyed cotton fragments wrapped around a silver pot had been preserved…The use of madder dye made fast with a mordant and the presence of dye vats at the site testify to an advanced understanding of the processes of colour fixing on cloth, and a relief-carved stone sculpture from the dig clearly depicts figures draped with patterned cloth.[4]

Indian muslins were much prized in Europe during the first century B.C.E., earning such poetic names as “venti” (wind) and “nebuli” (misty).[5] In fact, the textile and spice trade from the East with Rome was significant enough to prompt Pliny the Elder to complain about the trade deficit of over 550 million sesterces of gold bullion each year.[6] This trade with the Mediterranean empires of Europe was abruptly ended by the Hunnish incursions into north-central India in the fifth century, whereupon Indian trade focused on routes into other parts of Asia.[7

Despite this interruption in trade with a lucrative market, however, craftsmanship did not decline. Writing in 1322, the Persian Amir Khusran said rapturously of Indian muslins, “They are like a pleasant gift of a springtide and sit as lightly upon the body as moonlight on the tulip or dewdrops on the morning rose.”[8] And in the sixteenth century, the Arab trader, Sulaimen, wrote, “(they are) wove to that degree of fineness that they may be drawn through a ring of middling size.”[9] Cotton textiles remain a major Indian export up to the present day.

Silk has also been a significant trade item. In Costumes and Textiles of Royal India, Ritu Kumar notes, “The wild silks of India were gathered from the cocoons spun by the silkworms which fed upon the asan trees, mulberry and the castor oil plants of the North-Eastern Himalayas. …The first mention of this silk appears in the seventh century in Banabhata’s biography of King Harsha.”[10] Silk was also imported from China via trade routes through the Himalayas.[11] Wool was not necessary or feasible throughout most of India, especially in the hot and humid south, where the finest of cotton muslins were found. In the north, however, in mountainous and cooler regions like Kashmir, the spinning and weaving of wool was raised to the same level of finesse and beauty as the silks and cottons. To this day, “Cashmere” shawls are highly prized and sought-after.

In addition to the fineness and delicacy of the fabric, Indian textiles were also noted for their brilliant colours and prints. Cotton, like linen, naturally resists dyes, but Indian craftsman learned early on the secrets of mordants and dyes and how to manipulate them. Remarkably, India managed to keep the complex technique of cotton dyeing secret from the world until the seventeenth century.[12] Colourfast dyeing in Europe prior to the seventeenth century was rare and expensive, available only to the wealthy and/or aristocratic.

There are over 300 dye-yielding plants common to India,[13] which, combined with various mordants, yield a vast array of colours and hues. One of the most important of these is indigo, which was exported in vast quantities to the Dutch, the English and the Persians. Since Vedic times (c 1000 – 500 B.C.E.), Indian dyers have been using madder, safflower, and turmeric. Post-Vedic dyestuffs include saffron, kermes, rocana (cow’s urine) and carbon black.[14] By the medieval and Mughal era, these essentials were expanded to include cochineal and mineral sources, such as iron, sulfate of iron, sulfate of copper and sulfate of antimony. The medieval period also marked the discovery of alum as a mordant.[15]

Indian craftsman had also developed techniques for using dyes to create grid/check patterns, delicate floral prints and complex pictorial scenes on textiles.[16]  Material evidence of this was found at site on the outskirts of Cairo, where large numbers of printed, painted and resist-dyed fabrics were uncovered. These fabrics date from the tenth to the fifteenth centuries, and chemical analysis revealed that the colours came from dye-yielding plants native to India, specifically chayroot (madder) and neel (indigo).[17]

These fragments show a remarkable intricacy, especially compared to textiles available in Europe during the same time period.

             Figure 1. Examples of Indian textiles found in Cairo, dating from 10^th – 15^th c.

  The patterns on these fragments were created using a resist paste and mordants, and probably exported from Gujarat or Rajasthan, regions famous for the technique of block printing.[18] The colours found in these examples include ten varieties of red, and various shades of purple, blue and brown. Such was the skill of Indian dyers that a virtually unlimited palette was available to them. Besides basic reds and blues obtained from the aforementioned sources, they were also able to create such subtle colours as gul-i-anar (like the flower of a pomegranate), pink, orange, pistachio green, bottle green and violet.[19]

In addition to block printing and embroidery, Indian textile makers embellished their wares with paint. Dye-painted wall hangings depicting religious scenes for the edification of the faithful were used in temples as decoration and for rituals.[20] Kumar tells us,

They were painted by master craftsman who had an in-depth knowledge of the sacred texts and worked in guilds attached to the temples. Although most of the surviving painted textiles do not pre-date the seventeenth century, the degree of sophistication they display suggests that the technique and style is the continuation of a long-established textile tradition.[21]

Finally, tie-dyed fabrics also had a long tradition in the Indian courts. These tie-dyed fabrics were a far cry from the t-shirts popular during the 1960s. Instead, this technique was used during the post-Vedic and Mughal periods to produce designs such as bandhani (dotted), lahariya (wavy) and mothra (checked).

Given the various dyestuffs, fabrics and techniques available to Indian textile makers, Indian clothing benefited from an abundance of options.

Male garb during the reign of Akbar was comprised of five basic components. Men wore a pagri (turban), a jama (coat), a patka (shawl), a katzeb (sash) and either trousers or a dhoti (loincloth). These articles will be examined individually below.

The Jama

Essentially, the jama is a snugly fitted garment that is complemented by a pair of long sleeves, a distinctive crossover bodice and a full skirt. Although very few examples of the jama have survived from Akbar’s reign, there is a wealth of artistic evidence which, combined with Abu Fas’l’s documentation in The Akbarnama, probably completed in 1596, make it possible to recreate an authentic garment

A defining characteristic of Akbar’s reign (1556 – 1605) was his attempt to bring together the Islamic and Hindu cultures. His efforts ranged from the personal and dynastic (such as when he married a Hindu princess), to the administrative (Hindu officers figured prominently at his court), to the arts (Akbar was an enthusiastic supporter of Hindu poets and artisans). In Indian Costumes In the Collection of the Calico Museum of Textiles, author B.N. Goswamy writes

          Akbar must have planned on overcoming resistances, reaching out in both directions, that of the         conquerors and the conquered, the Muslims and the Hindus, in an attempt to narrow down cleavages and introduce a certain uniformity without necessarily destroying separate identities.[22}

Even sartorial concerns did not escape the Emperor’s far-ranging attention to detail, and the jama is an excellent example of this. Abu Fas’l describes in the Akbarnama how Akbar

  …changed the names of several garments, and invented new and pleasing terms. Instead of jama (coat), he says sarbgati i.e. covering the whole body; for izar (drawers), he says yar-pirahan (the companion of the coat)…[23]

This passage illustrates Akbar’s attempts to blend the cultures, as the terms he uses to describe the garments are a mixture of Hindi and Persian phrases. It seems clear that he recognized the need to bring them together while permitting them a means of recognizing each other at a glance, so that the potential for awkwardness and social blunders was minimized. To this end, the Emperor decreed that Muslims would tie their jamas on the right, and Hindus on the left.[24] The jama was therefore a powerful symbol of a man’s religious and social identity.

Akbar further indicated that the skirt of the jama (which is attached to the bodice by a seam hidden beneath the wearer’s sash) should be made rounded[25]: in the reign of his grandfather, Babur, pictorial evidence shows the jama made with slits in the hemline and drooping corners, creating an asymmetrical outline. An example of this variety of jama can be seen on the gentleman on the far right in Figure 2.

Figure 2. Examples of Hindu jamas, fastened on the left of the body. From the Victoria and Albert Museum

The jama is differentiated from other coats of the Mughal era (such as the angharka) in that the skirts overlap in the same fashion as the bodice. Figure 3 shows how the bodice was fastened under the armpit.

Figure 3. From the Victoria and Albert Museum Collection

Rather than buttons and loops, the jama was fastened by two pairs of ties. In the case of a Hindu garment, there were two ties inside the jama on the right hand side, one at the armpit and another at the waist. These are hidden from view and help to keep the bodice closed and in place. Another set of ties, usually between seven and nine pairs, closes the bodice on the outside (left) edge. Functional but decorative, these tapes form a row of descending knots or "streamers" overlapping the next pair of ties. While the colour of these tapes can match the colour of the jama, quite often they contrast colourfully with the outfit. In length these outer tapes are not all that long, perhaps some 4 to 6 inches at most.

  The social status and wealth of the wearer were indicated by the textiles used to create the jama, by the fullness of the skirts and the length of the sleeves. The sleeves were tight-fitting to the wrist, and were commonly so long as to form soft folds along the forearm. The sleeve also features an inset triangular gusset in the armpit, which allows for a snug fit without compromising mobility.

As previously indicated, the textiles available in Hindustan during the Mughal era were varied and opulent: depending on what the wearer could afford, the choices ranged from lustrous silks to virtually transparent cottons. The finest cottons were found in the upper echelons of court and the hot, humid south, while heavier fabrics were favoured in the cooler north and by those of lower economic status.

In making my jama for Rajpal, I was forced to make a couple of concessions and alterations. First, our Canadian climate dictates a heavier, lined garment if I am to be comfortable at any time other than the very warmest of days. Secondly, issues of modesty also precipitated heavier cotton over flimsier textiles that would reveal more of my (female) anatomy than is socially acceptable in our modern culture, and ultimately destroy the illusion of a male persona. My bust presented a further challenge to the making and wearing of an authentic jama, in that the bodice does not lie as flat over my upper torso as it does on a man. I was faced with the choice of altering the pattern to include darts (which I could not document) or leaving the bodice as is. I chose to make the bodice historically accurate, eschewing the darts, and postulate that there must have been stout men in period with breasts on whom the jama would have looked similar. The man in green in Figure 2 above illustrates this.

In building Rajpal’s jama, I had also to consider his economic status, which is that of a middle-class merchant. Rajpal is caught in a difficult place, in that he must display a certain level of affluence to attract customers, but not enough that he also excites the interest of the emperor’s tax collectors. Therefore, I chose a medium weight cotton that is unremarkable in itself, but in solid, bright colours that reflect a certain refinement and aesthetic. His skirts and sleeves are as full and long as he can afford, while still allowing him to work without soiling the garment. Finally, Rajpal hails from a region that borders the Thar Desert. The nights there are cold and would necessitate warmer clothes.

Dhoti or Paijama

In his diary, written no later than 1529, Emperor Babur remarked on the dress of the native Hindus: “Peasants and people of low standing go about naked. They tie on a thing called languta, a decency-clout which hangs two spans below the navel. From the tie of this pendant decency clout, another clout is passed between (the legs) and made fast behind.”[26] What Babur is describing is more commonly called a dhoti, which is nothing more sophisticated than a length of fabric (usually cotton) tied around the nether portions like a loincloth. People in India have worn these since antiquity, as seen in the Ajunta cave-paintings dating from the 1^st to the 6^th centuries C.E.

However, anyone wishing to do business with the affluent Muslim amirs was well-advised to look as much like them as possible. Abu Fas’l describes a garment called yar-pirahan, or trousers.[27] He describes these as “…drawers made of all kinds of stuff, single and double…” though he specifically mentions silk and cotton, held in place with a string.[28]

Another term for these trousers is paijama, from which comes our familiar word denoting sleep attire. The word is a compound of two Persian words, pai meaning “feet” or “legs”, and jama meaning “covering”.[29] Both men and women wore paijamas, [30] possibly in imitation of the warlike Rajput princes who preferred them to the dhoti for the mobility they afforded.[31] During the Akbari period, men wore trousers invariably with their jamas (in this context, coats), and there is no artistic evidence to suggest that dhotis were ever worn in combination with the coats. Therefore, while Rajpal may have worn a dhoti in the privacy of his home, in public he wore trousers.

Paintings of the period indicate that the paijamas were loose and flowing from the waist to the knee, where they became snug down to the ankle. Often the fabric on the lower legs is wrinkled, suggesting that the paijamas were longer than the leg itself and pushed up, just like the sleeves of the jama, in a display of conspicuous consumption. At no time do the paijamas match the jama in colour, and solid colours appear to have been the fashion during Akbar’s reign.

Pagri or Turban

Although Abu Fas’l describes a number of soft caps worn at Akbar’s court, the universal headwear for both Muslims and Hindus was the turban. Ritu Kumar writes

The most important accessory for an Indian man was his turban, which proclaimed his status, religion, caste and region of origin. To submit a turban to anybody was a sign of total subjugation and the removal of a turban was the most humiliating punishment that could be inflicted on any man.[32]

Paintings from the court of Akbar indicate that there was a difference between the wrap used by a Muslim and that of a Hindu. Generally, Hindu turbans were fuller and rounder than those of the Muslims, who favoured elaborate jewellery to embellish their headgear. Because of the widely disparate, complex and personal styles of wrapping a turban, however, it is virtually impossible to say with any certainty which wrap an individual would have adopted. As Kumar says, “The variety of regional sizes, tying styles and patterns is the subject of a book in itself.”

Fortunately, the traditional Jairpuri turban—called a safa—was well documented. According to Kumar, the safa is “…twenty-five metres long and twenty cms wide. They are usually tie-dyed and worn with the ends left hanging at the back. In former times, the intricacy of the patterning depended on the status of the wearer. Single coloured pagris were used for daily wear, while pagris tie-dyed with lahariya (wavy), mothra (checked) and chunari (dotted) patterns were reserved for special occasions. It requires a consider able amount of expertise to tie a turban well and professional turban dressers, known as pagri bands, were often employed for this purpose.”[33]

Marcus Findlay-Arthur (known in the SCA as Sri Mangal) is a student of Indian male costume during the Mughal era, and has researched the turban styles extensively using examples found in the Victoria and Albert Museum. His research in this area goes a long way to filling in previous gaps in our knowledge. Of the safa, Findlay-Arthur writes,

  The starting length for a safa turban begins at a measure of 16 feet 3 inches long, by 8 inches wide. An important note is that the most traditional fabric employed for a safa is the regional fabric Bhandej - a tie and dye surface decorated fine cotton produced in Rajasthan. The shape of a safa is utterly distinctive - the ropes of fabric build up the base of the shape in figure eights, crossing on the crown of the head until the full majestic girth and height is achieved. Then the fabric is smoothed out, pleated if desired and carefully eased over the right side of the turban and front from the base, covering the swollen shape and neatly worked into the crown before the remaining end is fanned out and put into position.[34]

Figure 4 courtesy M. Findlay-Arthur

Given the personal significance of the turban, Hindu men made them a priority in terms of expense and maintenance. Rajpal would have spent more on his “dress” turban, for example, than his jama. He would therefore have preferred silk over cotton. The turban that he wears for everyday would be of cheaper stuff (as indicated previously by Kumar). This is not to say, however, that Rajpal’s daily turban was any less important to him than his fancy turban. As was customary, it was given to him by his father, and is thus a symbol of tribal connection. When his father dies, it is likely that Rajpal, as the eldest son, will receive that turban as well.

The textile known as bhandej is still produced in Rajasthan, and is readily available in East Indian fabric shops. It is this I have used for Rajpal’s “good” turban (worn at feasts and festivals).

Patka, Katzeb and Juttis

                Three more items finish off the male costume and these are the patka (shawl), the katzeb (sash) and juttis (shoes).

The Patka

The patka is a handsome garment often depicted in illustrations of the period draping elegantly from the shoulders of Akbar’s courtiers. It survives today in India as the dupatta, worn by women as a scarf with their salwar camise and Hindu men on their wedding day.

During the reign of Akbar, the patka was a fairly wide length of woven textile, often plain, but sometimes embellished either with embroidered, painted, block printed or woven designs. We have no evidence that one method of embellishment was preferred over the other, and it is difficult to ascertain how the patka was decorated merely from looking at the illustrations. Given that embroidery, painting and weaving were all arts encouraged by Akbar in his imperial workshops, however, I believe it is reasonable to assert that the embellishment of a patka was dependent, not on technology or availability, but on the affluence and social status of the wearer.

Figure 5. Showing an elaborate patka. From the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Other patkas found in the illustrations of Akbar’s courts are further embellished with fringes. They came in wide range of colours, from white to saffron yellow to blues and greens and even (though rarely) black.

Muslims were inclined to wrap their patkas in a variety of styles. Abu Fas’l writes in The Akbarnama that the Emperor himself “…has commenced to wear them double, which looks very well.”[35]  Hindu men favoured a simple throw, eschewing knots and allowing the garment to drape simply and elegantly over their shoulders, held in place using only the weight of the textile itself.

From antiquity, Hindu men were also in the habit of wearing garlands of fragrant flowers, such as jasmine and champa.[36]

The Katzeb

Even more ubiquitous than the patka, was the katzeb, or sash. In illustrations of the period, it is clear that the patka and the katzeb never matched one another, but like the patka, the katzeb was richly decorated in a number of ways. Examples of 16^th century katzebs reveal that the pallavs (edges) were rarely backed or lined by a stabilizing fabric; therefore embroidered borders were either uncommon or very skillfully executed.[37] It is more likely that the most highly embellished sashes were of brocaded, painted or block printed textiles. Tie-dye is also very likely, as in the case with turbans.

Sashes in the reign of Akbar seem to be of two lengths, long and short. Labourers, servants and courtiers in a hunting party are often shown with shorter and plainer katzebs. Wealthy emirs and the Akbar himself are depicted as wearing longer and more abundant sashes, and in a few cases, two sashes of contrasting colours at once (see Figure Six).

Figure 6. Showing the fashion of wearing two katzebs over the jama, circa 1560.

Generally, however, a single katzeb sufficed, and these were worn in numerous ways. Findlay-Arthur writes:

  A repertoire of sash tying obviously existed during the era…However the variety of ways that these sashes were tied, combined as: short and short together, long and long off-setting each other, short and long combined. And then the various fashionable loops and knotting measures to anchor them but still add a distinct note of personal style…Variants on this theme are legion! Many katzeb are tied so that both the ends match in length, lying prettily on the skirt of the jama. Others are tied with a loop dangling from the knot, either left or right, bearing no apparent comparison on the system of jama closure, with a "longer" end trailing down the skirt. Still others (are shown) where both ends match in length and end almost in line with the jama’s hemline.[38]

Shorter sashes would have been roughly 2 ½ yards of fabric for a simple tie and drape, while considerably longer sashes, wound around the torso more than once, obviously required more, and bespoke the status of the wearer. Findlay-Arthur estimates that “the average Akbari katzeb measured in the region of sixteen inches to twenty-two inches wide, possibly as much as twenty-four inches wide for very fine and delicate fabrics, including very fine weave cotton.”

Like the patka, the katzeb was made of various textiles. Most extant examples from the 18^th century are silk, silk and cotton mixed, and a cotton middle section with a highly decorated silk, satin or velvet pallav. Given the availability of cotton in India since earliest times, all-cotton katzebs for everyday wear must certainly have been available.

Juttis

                 Hindus and Muslims differed greatly in their approach to footwear. Followers of Islam wore shoes and boots habitually to protect their feet from the heat and hazards of the Indian landscape. Hindus, on the other hand, view feet and leather both as “unclean”. The making of leather goods, therefore, is and was left to the members of the lowest castes. As a rule, Hindus preferred to go either barefoot or in sandals called paduka, which were made of “pure” materials such as wood or even metal![39] These look something like European pattens, but are much lower, raising the wearer only an inch and a half off the floor. A bulbous carved or cast decoration fits between the first and second toe, which is how the paduka is kept on the foot. Shoes were invariably removed before entering living areas and temples.

                The jutti was the most common form of shoe worn by visitors to Akbar’s court. They resemble more of a slipper, having a curled toe, no laces and often lack a back for the heel of the foot. The soles are made of leather, and the uppers are made of either leather or fabric, frequently embroidered with gold and silver, especially in the case of a Muslim wearer. A very simple pair of juttis can be seen on the feet of a man in Figure 5, just below the knee of the dancing man in the foreground. More typical examples can be seen in Figure 7, showing three men offering a salute to Akbar on horseback.

Figure 7.  Showing juttis from the Akbarnama (V&A Museum)