As winter approaches, a small community of Tibetan sweater sellers arrives in Mumbai, struggling to keep their tradition alive amid climate change and increasing competition. The once-thriving group is now dwindling
The sweater sellers prepare for the upcoming season
Each November, as the temperatures start to dip in Mumbai, a small community of Tibetan sweater sellers arrives from northern Karnataka, bringing warmth, resilience and a fading piece of tradition. Once, these sellers transformed the city’s streets from Thane to Churchgate into bustling markets, showcasing vibrant sweaters in intricate patterns. But this year, only about thirty sellers will make the journey, a stark drop from the five hundred who once lined Mumbai’s sidewalks each winter, reflecting a troubling reality for these refugees clinging to an uncertain livelihood.
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Tenzin Methok, Tibetan sweater seller
“The Tibetan sweater sellers first came to Mumbai in the early 1970s,” says Tenzin Tsundue, a Tibetan activist who lived in Mumbai from 1997 to 2002. “Before this, they were primarily farmers, looking for alternative sources of income.” Since then, the sellers have brought not only warmth but also glimpses of Tibetan culture to Mumbai. Years ago, each sweater was handmade by Tibetan women, each stitch woven with care.
Tenzin Methok, a second-generation seller, recalls, “Our mothers used to hand-knit the sweaters we sold. But hand knitting is labour-intensive and time-consuming. Unfortunately, our customers in Mumbai did not value this craft, and we couldn’t keep up with market prices.” “Now, they acquire sweaters from Ludhiana and other places in Punjab as loans, selling them at a mark-up price for three months to sustain their families for the rest of the year,” says Laurence Panjabi, a campaigner for the Tibetan Refugee Sweater Seller Association (TRSSA) in Mumbai.
The All-Indian Coordinator of the Tibetan Refugee Sweater Seller Association, Tashi Dekyi
With each passing year, the season becomes harder to navigate, and for the Tibetan sweater sellers, climate change has only added to their burdens. “Mumbai virtually doesn’t have a winter anymore,” says Kelsang Lhamo, a Tibetan sweater seller, who has been coming to Mumbai every winter for the past 44 years. “Climate change has pushed winters back by almost two months, and this is another reason for the decline in our business,” she says. Customers who once flocked to their stalls now question whether they need warm clothing in the city’s prolonged summer weather. Sellers who once anticipated eager buyers now face unpredictable weather that undercuts their seasonal trade. Securing permission to sell has become another pressing challenge.
“Every year, two members of the TRSSA come to Mumbai before the season starts to get written permission from the BMC and police,” explains Tsering Lhamo, the TRSSA Mumbai representative for 2024. “It is only after we get both permissions that we’re legally allowed to start selling our sweaters.” Yet, delays and obstacles are frequent. “Last year, we had to run around for a month before we got permission. We only started selling on December 6, a month late,” Tsering adds.
Jamyang Choedon (left), Kelsang Lhamo and Tsering Lhamo
These setbacks cost the sellers a substantial share of their annual income. “Last year, we barely made a profit because we lost a month trying to get the BMC’s approval, and we couldn’t pay the traders in Punjab,” says Jamyang Choedon, another seller whose rented home in Parel East doubles as sweater storage. “Thankfully, we’ve done business with them for many years, so there is mutual understanding. They didn’t push us to pay them back.”
Each year, they borrow Rs 2 to Rs 3 lakh rupees in stock, paying back after their three months of sales. Even in a profitable season, they face mounting expenses. Local competition is another battle. “Vendors from North India, particularly Uttar Pradesh, sell similar products at cheaper rates,” says Tsering. “They sell year-round, while we are here only for three months. We can’t ask them to stop just because we want to sell our sweaters.”
Tashi Dekyi, a member of the Tibetan Parliament in Exile and the All-Indian Coordinator of the TRSSA says, “Since e-commerce has picked up significantly in the last for a couple of years, Mumbaikars prefer to buy woollens online which is more convenient and sometimes even cheaper for them.” Methok adds, “Mumbai is expensive, and we have many necessary expenses. Transport costs, rent in Mumbai’s chawls, and storage for sweaters all add up. Without a good business season, it’s difficult to survive here.” Unlike other major cities, Mumbai has no dedicated market space for Tibetan sellers.
“Approximately 4,500 Tibetans are operating sweater-selling businesses across 250 locations in India,” says Tashi. “Mumbai is the only major city that doesn’t have a dedicated market for Tibetan refugees during these three months,” says Jamyang. “Cities like Kolkata, Nagpur, Jaipur, Nashik and Ahmedabad have spaces called Tibetan markets where we can sell our goods.”
Point 6(e) of the Tibetan Rehabilitation Policy of 2014 urges state governments to grant Tibetan refugees special land for bazaars, yet Mumbai sellers still rely on temporary permissions from the BMC and police. “There was a saying among our frequent buyers,” Kelsang recalls, “now that the Tibetans have come, winter has arrived in Mumbai.”
Panjabi reminisces, “Many years ago as an undergraduate at Jai Hind College, I used to buy sweaters from outside CSMT station. The Tibetan sellers were always there, making winter feel real.”
Yet even as these sellers carry on, many worry that this could be among their last seasons in Mumbai. “I am filled with remorse when I say that our business has no future,” sighs Methok. “Climate change is one reason, but we also seem to be the last generation doing this business. Our parents were uneducated farmers from Tibet who found a way to survive, and many of us followed suit.” “Our children are educated and have high aspirations. All my children are pursuing higher education and doing well. I don’t expect them to carry forward our legacy as sweater sellers,” adds Tsering.
For these resilient sellers, each season feels like a hard-won victory, a bittersweet stand against time and change. They return to Mumbai year after year, bringing with them the warmth of a winter that’s woven with memories of home, heritage and quiet endurance.
Though their numbers fade and their future remains uncertain, the Tibetan sweater sellers remain—a steadfast sign of winter’s touch. For the people of Mumbai, the presence each November still signals, in its quiet way, that winter has, somehow, arrived.