I was told early in life that a stitch in time saves nine. But to my utter and complete dismay, whenever the time comes for me to rescue those very precious stitches, I end up with more than my fair share of complications.
Therefore, in all earnestness, I look up to people who are swift with the needle and thread. I am also in total awe of those who can sew, knit, tailor, and embroider things to perfection. Actually, to tell you the truth, even people who can thread the needle in the first go, without entangling the ends into messy knots, get my ready admiration.
And Tamara is my absolute champion. I place her on a pedestal from where she has no hopes of ever climbing down. That is because she is not only an expert at cutting the cloth according to specific patterns but is also a wizard at tailoring superb outfits out of it – complete with embroidered designs and pleats and with every clasp and hook in place.
Tamara sews with such dedication that it is a joy to see bits of material, along with all my hastily bought mismatched outfits, being effortlessly transformed into stylish dresses by her magical fingers. But when I met her for the first time, it was a humbling experience. For me, that is.
I was a newcomer to Portugal and had just spent four months in the country. Everything was still strange as I was in the process of integrating into a new culture and society.
Trying to fix a loose button on my favourite blouse, I had wrestled with the pointed needle for hours. My fingertips were sore and bloodied and my eyes were seeing double from the sheer concentration of staring at the needlepoint.
Giving up the losing battle, I reluctantly made my way to the tiny tailoring shop across the road from my house. Swallowing my pride, I tried to come up with a good reason to explain why I was incapable of fixing my sorry garment.
Tamara was in her customary place and welcomed me from behind her sewing machine.
“What can I do for you?” she smiled, “you want to get a new dress tailored and you’ve got a sample for me, right?” she nodded towards the packet I was carrying. I shook my head in response.
“You want alterations done on your shirt, yes? You want it tucked in or opened up?” she queried, keeping her eyes steady on the electrically moving needle. I struggled to find the right words to respond.
Feeling sorry for me, she walked up to the counter, a half-stitched dress trailing behind her. “I simply want one button fixed. I ran out of thread and then I lost the needle,” I said solemnly. Tamara was not convinced. Seeing the wrinkled cloth around the loose button of my blouse, she gave me a knowing look.
“You tried to sew this yourself? Not good with needlework, are you?” she questioned.
“Total disaster,” I confessed.
Tamara smiled and not only sewed the button back while explaining the intricacies of keeping the needle from pinching my fingers, but she also embroidered a flowery pattern around the bit of cloth I had nicked.
“A stitch in time” she started to tell me but seeing my horrified expression, quickly changed it to, “never mind, you just bring it here”.
Like I said, Tamara is the stuff heroes are made of!
By Nickunj Malik
|| features@portugalresident.com
Nickunj Malik’s journalistic career began when she walked into the office of Khaleej Times newspaper in Dubai thirty-one years ago and got the job. Since then, her articles have appeared in various newspapers all over the world. She now resides in Portugal and is married to a banker who loves numbers more than words.
