CHIDAMBARAM: "The wearing of khadi replaces the conventional idea of wearing clothes for ornament by that of wearing them for use,” Mahatma Gandhi wrote in Young India in 1924. Nearly a century later, the words still echo in Chidambaram. Behind the clatter of a sewing machine, tailor P Nandhagopal bends over strips of saffron, white and green, keeping alive a family tradition that has outlasted shifting fashions, collapsing tailoring businesses, and a tide of disposable flags.
At 58, Nandhagopal is a part of the second generation in his family to craft national flags from khadi, a legacy started by his father Perumal over two decades ago. For him, the act is not mere work, but a mission — to honour khadi as an emblem of independence and an environmentally-conscious choice.
Inside his modest shop on Maalaikatti Street, business is brisk in the weeks before Independence Day and Republic Day. “My father began by stitching small khadi flags that people would pin to their clothes,” he said, glancing up from his workbench to instruct an assistant. “I’ve been doing this for 25 years now, carrying his ideals to this generation.”
Although he now uses a sewing machine, much of the work remains painstakingly manual. The fabric must be cut to precise widths, stitched continuously, and adorned with the Ashok Chakra. “It may sound simple, but cutting the cloth metre after metre in a narrow width is tough. I use the same coloured thread so that the flag looks elegant,” he said.
The tricolour khadi fabric is sourced from outlets in Chidambaram. Larger flags, he admits, are beyond his means: “They need more space and manpower than I have.”
Nandhagopal entered the tailoring trade at 13, specialising in men’s garments. But as ready-made clothing rose in popularity, his business declined, forcing him to supplement his income with real estate work. Yet, each year, as August and January approach, he sets aside all other works for the flags.
“When my father sold them, each flag was five paise. Now I sell them for four rupees,” he said.
The market, however, has grown weaker. “Earlier, people, even children, would keep these khadi flags safely with pride. Today, most buy plastic or paper ones, which are thrown away after the event. Even though single-use plastic is banned, some schools and government offices still use plastic flags,” he remarked with disappointment.
Rather than let his work go unsold, he has often distributed flags free of cost. “Last year, I sold about 12,000 flags. This year, only 2,000 so far. I plan to visit schools and government offices to distribute the rest, instead of keeping them in my shop. I’ve done this before too, giving away flags rather than leaving them unsold. For me, this is not about profit,” he said.
Beyond his own livelihood, Nandhagopal is also active in supporting others in his trade. As the district secretary of the Tamil Nadu Thaiyilkalai Thozhilalar Munnetra Sangam in Cuddalore, he helps tailors access government schemes and provides assistance to elderly or struggling workers. At home, he shares his life with his wife and two college-going daughters, who see in him the quiet persistence of a man devoted to service.
The tricolour flags stacked in his shop may be small, but for Nandhagopal, they hold the weight of a nation’s memory. He knows they will never make him rich, yet he keeps sewing — for his father, weavers, and the freedom fighters who once wrapped themselves in khadi. “I will continue till my last breath,” he says. And in that devotion, his shop is transformed into something larger than itself: a place where the spirit of freedom is not merely remembered, but kept alive with every stitch.
(Edited by Dinesh Jefferson E)