The quaint town of Maheshwar in Madhya Pradesh, relatively untouched by the throng of noisy tourists, lies some 95 km from Indore and, at first glance, does not betray the wealth of handloom history it hides. Mainly a pilgrim destination, the main square retains the looks of a regular small-town market, bustling with shops and commercial buildings. But as you go inwards, the town's face changes. Cobbled streets open up to the Ahilya Ghat, flanked by exquisite stone temples and the Ahilya Fort.

　　As I walked down the steps of one of the stone temples on the pier, the small town sounds, children diving into the cool waters, women washing clothes and men praying greeted me. A little over an hour away is Omkareshwar, another important temple town and a jyotirlinga site. The very first time I visited Maheshwar, nearly two years ago, I remembered taking back three authentic Maheshwari silk saris for my family. And that was before I had much knowledge about the legacy of this eponymous textile that is the town's leading identity.

　　"The REHWA society was established in 1978 by Richard Holkar and his wife Sally Holkar," said Sandip Soni, the project manager at REHWA, a non-profit organisation promoting the local craft of weaving and empowering mostly women weavers. "We do traditional Maheshwari weave here, in which the warp is silk, and the weft is cotton."

　　I walked around the first unit, making my way through the rows of women of different ages working heavy looms. "We have a total of 70 looms across four units," Soni explained, leading the way. "The core of this initiative has always been to empower local women through employment."

　　Spools of fabric were being stretched and worked on, with rolls of colours flecked in all directions at the REHWA unit. As I learned more about the organisation upholding the centuries-old weaving traditions of this temple town, I realised that at the heart of it all was the Maratha warrior queen Ahilya Bai Holkar, whose former residence-turned-heritage hotel I was being hosted at.

　　At the Queen's former fort, now known as the Ahilya Fort Heritage Hotel, the beauty and royal roots of the small town of Maheshwar can be easily found in every little detail. With 19 beautifully appointed rooms and different sections in the hotel, all with a touch of history, staying at the heritage hotel was as close to royalty as I could get. The dining area, called Poshakwada, used to be the room for keeping royal costumes and still possessed some of the original furnishings and decorations.

　　Ahilya Bai Holkar, who ruled here from 1765 to 1796, built Ahilya Wada, her personal residences, offices, and durbar audience hall, within the fort. A patron of the arts and crafts, she welcomed poets, scholars, and artists and even established a thriving textile industry in the city. This marked the beginning of the Maheshwar's handloom weaving tradition, which flourished in the late 1700s.

　　The man's heartfelt plea was simple yet profound: all he asked of them was to help his people regain their source of incomeIt is no wonder then that it was her descendants who revived the weaving traditions of Maheshwar. "At its core, REHWA Society ensures our artisan weavers have a dignified source of employment," said Yeshwantrao Holkar, partner at Ahilya Experiences and Board Member of REHWA Society. Established by his parents, the organisation, along with the handloom school, is run to preserve and promote the very highest form of the Maheshwari handloom textile and its artisan community.

　　"We want to support this community through our social outreach programmes, which include The Ahilya School, our housing colony, our medical and insurance programmes and various other health and empowerment camps. We do camps for women's health, including reproductive and menstrual health, as well as women's empowerment camps to assist them around issues of finances and self-defence," Holkar added.

　　Every evening during my stay in Maheshwar, as I sat on the hotel's terrace that overlooked the Narmada River and viewed the aarti on the ghats, I could picture the Holkars on that one evening in 1978, taking a stroll that would lead to the beginning of a textile foundation.

　　As the lore goes, Richard Holkar and his wife Sally encountered a man with a piece of fabric draped over his arm while visiting Maheshwar one evening. He shared the struggles of his community, devastated by the decline of their cherished handloom industry. The man's heartfelt plea was simple yet profound: all he asked them was to help his people regain their source of income.

　　The Holkars, deeply touched by the request, felt a growing determination to make a difference.

　　Their efforts breathed new life into Maheshwar's handloom tradition, turning their initial empathy into a lasting legacy. The Handloom School and Women Weave are where women are trained to earn their livelihood. You can pick out beautiful silk and Merino wool scarves, silk stoles, dupattas and Maheshwari silk saris here. Now, everywhere you go in Maheshwar, its narrow bylanes are crawling with outlets selling Maheshwari saris. Many of them supply to big brands like Fabindia and Anokhi.

　　“I have been working here since the last 44 years,” said Suman Chauhan, one of the weavers at REHWA. Draped in a simple red cotton sari, she worked diligently at the heavy wooden loom while beneath her fingers, a striking sari fit for a queen was taking shape. It takes more than 15 days to make a premium sari, according to Soni. The feather-light quality comes from the proportionate mixing of cotton and silk, which also gives the finished product a lovely shine. I could see only one man among the women weavers, working at the widest loom.

　　“This is the widest loom measuring 72 inches. This one is different from the sari looms which are all 46 inches. This is for weaving home furnishings, curtains and the like,” said Soni.

　　Before I departed, I took many pictures of all the lovely, smiling women weavers who had been working hard over the years to attain a source of income through their skills and courage. As I sat and took in the views of the Narmada on my last evening in Maheshwar, the bursting twilight hues over the river reflected the colours of the town. Maheshwar, in my mind, is as much a textile town as it is popular as a temple town. I ended up taking back home more saris than the handful of decent pictures on my phone.