It doesn't take an expert to point out that the exquisite work on the blouse is typically Parsi. Based on an original jubla design documented in a famed book of embroidery by Rosemary Grill, a deputy curator at the Victoria Albert Museum in London, it is as authentic as it can get. Every motif of the bird in the book has been recreated to the last detail except perhaps for a shade of light blue that takes on a beige tinge in the blouse.

A STITCH OF TIME: The Jahanaras with a Parsi blouse with jubla design

On display at the Jahanara Fashion Studio in Ahmedabad, the jubla instantly catches the eye but it is only one of the many masterpieces that its creators pride themselves with. The handiwork of Hemal and Deepali Jahanara, the husband-wife duo who own the studio, each of these works, which are mainly meant for bridal and theme-party wear, is rooted in oriental or medieval textile art. Long considered the preserve of rare books and museums, the ancient embroidery designs have now been brought within the reach of the common man.

From Tamil Nadu to Kashmir and Uttar Pradesh to Sikkim, there are few regions within the country with whose designs the Jahanaras are not familiar. What is more striking is the accuracy with which these patterns are replicated. "There are not many who can recreate priceless old handworks with such precision," endorses Vilooben Mirza, director of the National Institute of Fashion Technology, Gandhinagar. "Such work needs commitment, skill and technique."

For the Jahanaras, it is a quest to revive the fading textile arts. One hundred and fifty neck borders, 200 collars, 300 hand-cuffs, 400 side-cuts, 600 free-standing pieces-their range of patterns is not just wide but is entirely derived from the forgotten repositories of the past. A chiffon sari, for instance, has replicated the design of a 17th century Mughal hanging of a tree, complete with its trunk, branches and cluster of leaves.

Although the Jahanaras generally stick to the original patterns, they do make certain additions or omissions at times. In the case of the chiffon sari, the floral motifs have been left out. "Flowers would have looked very heavy on the light chiffon," explains Deepali. Similarly, a traditional Kutchi tanka with mirror tikkis has been redone in the zardosi style on a blouse. Instead of using cotton thread, the Jahanaras have employed zardosi using accessories like kor, dabka and beads. Zardosi art is a line they have perfected having recreated 100 out of 200 specimens in a book by embroidery expert Dr Charu Smita Gupta.

The Jahanaras can boast of many works which while loyal to the original design have incorporated minor changes that in no measure take away from the initial beauty. In fact, based on an ornate Mandel cap of the Awadh region which is currently on display at the Lucknow Museum, the duo has come out with as many as eight variants. All of them draw from the medieval embellishments of khoshe, khairi, surajmukhi, nakhuni, gijai and kora found in the cap but are made from different fabrics.

Little wonder then that Ahmedabad-based dancer Vaishali Trivedi, who regularly wears the Jahanaras' outfits during her worldwide performances, calls them an "experimenting" couple. "They are revivers and creators rather than designers," she elaborates. Few would disagree. The exclusive touch that Hemal and Deepali, along with their 12-member team of artists, lend to fabrics has earned them an equally exclusive clientele. Among them are top business families like the Vadilals, Jindals and those behind the Torrent, Ashima and Gala groups, besides dancers like Trivedi and Mrinalini Sarabhai.

Surprisingly for all the effort that they put in, the Jahanaras prefer to keep their pricing within a modest range which starts from as low as Rs 1,000. Even a Parsi-border sari which is sold for not less than Rs 25,000 in Mumbai is made with more elan by them for just Rs 7,000. At the other end of the spectrum, the price could go up to a maximum of Rs 1 lakh as in the case of a Bohra garara for which the Jahanaras have just received an order from a Dawoodi Bohra.

The cost, quite clearly, is incidental. If there's one tag that some works-like a dazzling Meenakari which borrows from a 19th century panel kept at the Safdarjung Museum in Hyderabad or a glittering silver tikki that can pass off for a Swarovski-can carry, it is "priceless".