A Memorable Business Visit

By Rahul Roy

On a vibrant afternoon of May 1, 2025, I, Rahul Roy—the Founder and CEO of Aitihya—along with our CSO, Souvik Biswas, embarked on a mission rooted deep in the cultural soil of Bengal. We headed towards the Khadi Mela organized by the Government of West Bengal at Tala Park. Our hearts were filled with purpose—to find, connect with, and uplift the artisans who carry the legacy of Bengal in their hands. Though the mela was scheduled to begin at 1 PM, we reached around 1:50 PM, only to find the gates closed and the stalls unopened. A bystander advised us to return post-3 PM if we truly wanted to witness the fair in its full bloom. Hungry yet hopeful, we stepped out and found solace in a nearby café. There, over a shared pizza and two refreshing mango mojitos, we discussed our dreams with the café owner. His warmth was unmatched. When we shared the vision of Aitihya, he beamed with joy, took a leaflet from the 40 we had carried, and said, “I know many artists—I’ll surely tell them about your work.” His encouragement was the first blessing of the day. We returned to the mela around 3:10 PM, and to our relief, some stalls had started opening. As we walked in, stall by stall, we met entrepreneurs and craftspeople from various districts showcasing Khadi garments, jute bags, handwoven textiles, and ethnic wears. Many were thrilled to hear about Aitihya, amazed that students like us had taken such a bold initiative to bring Bengal’s heritage to the world stage. While some mentioned that they were not the actual business owners and needed to consult their superiors or cooperatives, they still appreciated our work deeply. Many said they would get back to us after talking to their organizations. We noted down names, contact numbers, and district details with care, knowing that each one was a doorway to a story worth telling.Soon, our 40 leaflets were all distributed. We walked nearly 2 kilometers to find a print shop and got 30 more printed. Stall after stall, we kept moving forward until we reached one beside the entrance gate. There, we received uplifting words from individuals who were touched by our effort. Later, we realized it was the stall of the West Bengal Khadi Bhavan. An officer there, upon hearing our story, advised us to visit Khadi Bhavan after the mela. “I am part of the West Bengal Government’s Khadi Committee,” he said. “I’ll ensure all necessary permissions and help you get state-level promotion.” His promise added a new dimension to our hope. We thanked them and moved ahead. One of them remarked, “Just by seeing your website, I can say this initiative has heart. Do come to us—we’ll help in every way we can.” As we walked further, a woman crafting jute bags by hand caught our eye. We approached her and spoke of our work. She listened with glowing enthusiasm and, to our surprise, pleaded, “Please let me sell through your platform. I’ve been waiting for such an opportunity.” Her sincerity was touching. A similar moment arrived when another woman, elderly and kind-hearted, said, “I’ve always wanted to sell online. You’re like my sons. May you grow big and strong.” Her words felt like a mother’s blessing. Then, a sight left me awe-struck. A man sat quietly at his stall, designing traditional Bengali-themed t-shirts live, with brushes and colors in hand. The art was breathtaking. We approached him, praised his talent, and offered him our proposal. He smiled, gave his contact details, and said, “I would love to be a part of this.” We kept going. One by one, we met artists selling pottery—cups, bowls, coffee mugs—and others selling handmade earrings, bangles, clay jewelry, hand soaps, fabrics, and various other handicrafts. Everyone we spoke to responded positively, even if some couldn’t commit immediately. All were happy to share their contact details. By this time, another 30 leaflets were gone. We went out again and printed 40 more. Our feet were aching, but our spirit was soaring. Suddenly, a heavy thunderstorm broke out. Rain poured, but it could not dampen our passion. Once we had spoken to all the artisans, we decided to support them not just with words—but with our appreciations too. I bought a jute bag for my mother, a clay coffee mug, and a beautifully crafted Bengali-style Punjabi. Souvik picked up kurtas for himself and his father and bought two jute handbags for his mother and sister. By 8:30–8:40 PM, with the rain easing slightly, we decided to return home. From the nearby Belgachhia Metro Station, I boarded towards Esplanade and Souvik towards Dumdum. At Esplanade, I switched to the metro towards Howrah, aiming to catch the 9:05 PM Tarakeswar local. As fate would have it, I reached the station at 9:07 PM. I ran, breathless, toward the platform. The train was still there. I waved desperately to an officer near the last bogie. He smiled and teased, “Come slowly, or I won’t take you.” Laughing, I jumped aboard, victorious. I reached Tarakeswar at around 10:55 PM, collected my bike from the garage, and finally arrived home at 12:07 AM. Tired, soaked, but fulfilled beyond words. This was not just a business visit—it was a journey of hearts. Every conversation, every artist, every smile and blessing became a part of Aitihya’s story. The Khadi Mela reaffirmed our belief that Bengal’s soul lies in its people, and their heritage deserves a platform that honors it. Aitihya is not just a brand—it’s a mission. A movement. A family. And this day at the Khadi Mela will forever remain etched in our hearts as the beginning of something extraordinary.