The Story Behind Panja Durries
Historically, the land of Punjab has endured countless invasions, bloodshed, partition, and a history of loss and pain that is difficult to comprehend. Yet, despite the violence and upheavals it has witnessed, Punjab has emerged as a land of remarkable resilience—vibrant, colourful, generous, and deeply rooted in its cultural heritage. Its strength lives not only in the warmth, kindness, and selflessness of its people, but also in the crafts and traditions they have carried through generations.
Phulkari and Punjabi Jutti are among the most widely recognised crafts associated with Punjab. Yet, beyond these celebrated traditions lies another craft—quietly woven into the region's history and everyday life: Panja Durrie. Once a part of homes, gatherings, marriages, and everyday rituals, this distinctive, vibrant, and deeply rooted weaving tradition remains largely unknown to the world today.

In those days, when life moved at a slower pace and leisure was woven into everyday life, women would gather in groups to sing folk songs, embroider Phulkaris, spin yarn on the charkha, and work alongside one another. These gatherings, known as Trinjan, were more than moments of leisure—they were spaces where skills, stories, songs, and traditions were shared across generations.
The Craft and Its Connection to Everyday Life
The making of a durrie was equally rooted in the home. From growing or procuring raw cotton, spinning it into yarn, dyeing the threads, and finally weaving them into a durrie, the entire process was carried out within the household. The craft was not separate from everyday life; it was a part of it.
These durries were never merely floor or bed coverings; they carried a meaning that extended far beyond their practical use. At a time when the durrie was often served as a keepsake from a bride's home, women would weave durries to accompany it into their new homes. Mothers and grandmothers made them for daughters and granddaughters, with mothers-in-law weaving them for their daughters-in-law.

Each durrie carried with it the time, labour, and affection of the woman who made it. It became a tangible connection between the relationships one was leaving behind and those one was about to enter. In this way, the durrie was not simply passed from one home to another—it carried memories, relationships, and a piece of one home into the next.
The Traditional Panja Weaving Process
At the centre of its making was the panja—a claw-like metal tool used by the weaver to beat the weft firmly into place. With every strike, the yarn was compacted against the previous row, gradually building the dense, flat structure characteristic of the durrie.

Panja Durries were traditionally woven on horizontal looms using cotton yarns. Their flat-weave construction made them reversible, durable, and suitable for everyday use. In Punjabi households, textile-making was closely connected with women's domestic lives. Skills were passed between generations, often through observation and practice rather than formal instruction. The knowledge of preparing yarn, arranging colours, operating the loom, and handling the panja lived in the hands of the women who made them.
The motifs of these durries reflected the everyday observations and surroundings of the women who wove them. Their designs featured a combination of geometric patterns, stripes, and flora and fauna, including rabbits, peacocks, marigold flowers, and parrots. The warp was generally made from undyed cotton yarn, while coloured weft yarns in red, blue, green, yellow, and brown were woven densely enough to completely conceal the warp, giving the durries their characteristic appearance.
These durries were woven on a loom known as an ‘adda’, a temporary and adaptable loom that could be assembled and arranged according to the weaver's needs and available space.
The Changing Tradition
With advancements in technology, increasing access to education, and migration from villages to cities, the craft gradually lost its place and value within the home. Commercially manufactured durries became more accessible, offering cheaper alternatives that required less time and labour to produce. As educational opportunities expanded, women increasingly moved beyond traditional domestic crafts and pursued education and careers, leading to a gradual decline in the practice.

Today, only a small number of craftspeople continue to make these durries commercially. As the practice diminished within households, the durrie also began to lose the intimate culture of making, gifting, and passing them down through generations that once gave the craft much of its meaning.

Artisans Pooja (L) & Seema (R) working on the adda at Chhoti Si Asha's Chandigarh workshop.