Weaving a saree isn't just labor.
It's math.
It's rhythm.
It's patience.
But for generations, the children of weavers were told:
"This is all you'll ever do."
Because the world taught them to fold dreams like cloth ,
Until Nishanth unfolded them back.
After stabilizing Project Threedha's production,he set his eyes on something more ambitious.
Not looms.
Not factories.
Futures.
Operation Code: THREADLIFT
Mission:
▸Fund and mentor the children of weavers
▸To reach top-tier colleges across India
▸No entrance coaching mafia.
▸No donation quotas.
▸Just direct infrastructure + system-backed personal advisors.
The system adapted instantly.
[SPEND INTERFACE UPDATE – EDUCATION AID MODULE: UNLOCKED]
▸Beneficiaries Identified: 3,700
▸Target Tier: IITs, AIIMS, NIFT, NDA, CA-ICAI, ISRO interns
▸Projected Spend: ₹72 Cr over 3 years
Approval?
Nishanth tapped:
▸Yes
Then typed:
*"Let the world remember
Their fathers wove cloth.
Their children will weave nations."*
The first batch shocked the system.
Because 53 weaver kids aced national competitive exams within 6 months.
No magic.
Just clean food.
Stable light.
Daily mentorship.
And for the first time ever ,a quiet belief behind their backs.
One of them, 17-year-old Gowtham Ramulu,
wrote in his entrance essay:
"My father made ₹4 per meter.I want to build satellites that reach Mars per mission.
One for every saree he ever sold."
He got into IIT Madras.
On merit.
No one asked for donations.
Because the recommendation letter he carried?
Was signed by Dr. Meera Vaidya and co-signed by a quiet man with no title ,only a feather icon.
Then came the emotional moment that broke headlines.
NIFT Delhi — Graduation Ceremony
For the first time in campus history,a graduating student paused her speech to cry.
Her name: Bhavana Lakshmi
Daughter of a Kadapa weaver.She held up her degree and said:
"This paper isn't mine.It belongs to the man who paid for my bus pass for two years
without ever showing his face."
The auditorium stood.
Clapped for two straight minutes and behind the stage curtain,
Nishanth simply watched.
Hands folded.
Eyes still.
Back at Xylon HQ, Adarsh stared at the metrics.
"Sir, your Return on Education Impact is 92x higher than any government program."
"Good," Nishanth said.
"Now send that data to them anonymously. Let them copy it."
But the elite circles noticed.
And not all clapped.
Because these weaver kids weren't just learning ,They were competing.
Topping lists.
Winning medals.
Beating legacy students in mock trials and model parliaments.
At a posh club in Mumbai, a trustee muttered:
"He's turning labor caste kids into headline-makers."
And a woman replied:
"No.He's proving they were always capable.
We were just too blind to see it."
One college principal sent a letter:
"Sir, your sponsored students have improved campus decorum.
They study harder, disrupt less, and raise morale.
We're seeing pride in places we only saw pressure before."
SYSTEM INTERFACE – LEGACY MULTIPLIER UNLOCKED
▸Next Generation Effect: Triggered
▸Suggested Expansion:
▸Launch "Feather Fellowship" for artisans' children
▸Includes housing, coaching, internships, emotional mentorship
Approve?
Approved.
Then he typed:
*"The best revenge against a system that ignored you is to send your children back into it as its new leaders."*
Supriya sat quietly in her family's old backyard that evening.
She watched a video of a young girl ,wearing a Threedha uniform ,presenting at a national science fair.
And she whispered:
"He didn't build a brand.He built a bloodline of belief."
Every revolution needs a final stitch.
Not for attention.Not for approval.
But to tie the legacy down,
So that no wind, no scandal, no stormcan tear it apart.
Nishanth had rebuilt the looms.Empowered the weavers.Sent their children to the best colleges.
But there was still something missing —
Celebration.
The kind of grand, unapologetic celebration
that says:
"We're not victims.We're heritage."
So he launched Sutrakriti.
A one-week national festival.
Not in malls.Not on TV studios.
But across the soil where art was born.
Sutrakriti wasn't just about handlooms.It covered every forgotten skill passed down by calloused hands:
▸Dhokra metal casting
▸Kalamkari scroll painting
▸Terracotta storytelling
▸Bamboo instrument making
▸Ancient natural dye techniques
▸Pottery poems written in ash
And more.
Each showcased by the original masters,
Not museums. Not models.
Every Indian state hosted its own zone.
Xylon funded logistics, sound, light, meals, and live-stream infrastructure.
No entry fee.No VIP zones.
Every visitor received one thing at the gate:
A cotton card that read:
*"You are not attending culture.
You are standing inside it."*
On the last day of the festival,in a dry open field near Amaravati,over 2,00,000 people gathered.
From kids to CEOs.
Farmers to foreign dignitaries.
Even government ministers came,but not as guests.
They sat in the crowd with dust on their shoes.
Because here, no one wore power.Everyone wore respect.
As dusk fell, and the golden light kissed the loom stage,a familiar voice stepped up to the mic.
No stage lights.No background music.
Just Nishanth.
Wearing a handwoven kurta.With a small pin: the feather.
He looked out.Paused.
Then said:
"Once, this nation made gold with its fingers."
"Then came machines.Then came silence.
Then came forgetfulness."
"But today — you remembered."
He didn't speak long.Didn't need to.
He ended with:
"To every hand that weaves,You don't owe us your survival.We owe you our identity."
He stepped back and in perfect silence,the lights dimmed.
Then flared gold.
And 10,000 diya lamps were lit by real artisans,held high in the air.
Followed by a live flute and mridangam rhythm,the heartbeat of a forgotten India returning.
It was history.
Not a festival.
A return.
News channels couldn't describe it.
The headline just read:
"India Remembered Its Hands Today."
Supriya watched from home.Tears ran down her cheek.
"He didn't just revive an industry.He revived a country's soul."
At Xylon HQ, the final report pinged.
[SYSTEM INTERFACE – CULTURAL LEGACY MODE: COMPLETED]
▸Festival Reach: 18.3 crore views
▸On-ground Artisans Paid: 98,421
▸Emotional Resonance Index: 99.1%
▸System Suggestion: Seal this moment.
He tapped:
Seal
Then typed:
*"If I vanish tomorrow,Let this be the last thing I left behind:
That no art, no artist,
Is ever too small to be seen again."*
Some build companies.
Some build fame.
But Nishanth?
He built memory.
And made sure the hands that built this country were never forgotten again.
To be continued.....
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