CHENNAI: This is a story of how I may have inadvertently insulted a few women from the northeast states at an exhibition they were participating in at the Central Cottage Industries Emporium. Visiting the expo at Temple Tower — one of Chennai’s distinct landmarks I’m sure few have thought of since the movie Anniyan — all I had to do was talk to the men and women hosting their artifacts and weaves, and find something to write home about. In all earnest eagerness, I kept asking them how long they had to train to be good at what they do — be it weaving or jewellery-making. With plenty of patience, and perhaps a smidge of annoyance, each one of them gave the same answer: “Every girl from my state (Trine) will know. We grow up learning these crafts from our childhood. Now, many are picking up other work but they still know. Everyone is good at it.” It was just a matter of finding commerce in the traditional exercise.
Having been schooled in the basics, it didn’t then come as a surprise that many of their businesses were home-run. For this is a story of how many tribes in the northeast have managed to preserve the traditional arts through the generations, even as such practices are finding little success in this part of the country. Pamringla Vashum from Manipur, specialising in Naga handloom and handicraft, says she has a number of girls coming home to weave the designs she prepares for them. Her brother, who has a stall next to hers, weaves baskets out of bamboo in the house too.
While Manu Chetri from Sikkim uses hemp, cotton yarn and wool to make bags, socks and other accessories, her daughter-in-law sells saris and mekhela sadors. The two other members in Bhaskar Das’ business unit from Karishma Hasta Silpa Udyog, Assam, are his parents. Most of them had learned the crafts from their parents; many hope they will be able to hand it down to their children. As keepers of the art, these men and women have plenty to offer — especially for the uninitiated. There is stall after stall of saris — the coveted, geo-tagged mugs silk; the ahimsa silk; and the pat and eri silks. Even the cotton saris come with their own stamp, from the recurring jappi (traditional conical hat form) motif to the special Kaziranga sari embroidered with rhinos. There is a whole range of mekhela sadors and the Assamese sarong wrap. The traditional wraps that have four individual panels seamlessly stitched together as one are billed over `4,000; their modern, easier-to-wear variants are much more pocket-friendly.
There is plenty of bamboo — baskets, mugs, kitchenware, jewellery, jewel boxes, lamp shades and decorative pieces. There are shoes, straw-work products, decorative flowers and more.
Despite the common vein of the arts and crafts, a closer look yields much more divergence for the discerning eye. For this is a story of preserving the diversity while keeping up with the times. Paramita Baruah of Rini’s Boutique in Guwahati, points out that jappi, though fairly ubiquitous, is different in the works of different tribes. The Kaziranga special too has its variants in the sister states. While Chennai may be new to some of them, the northern parts of the country are a familiar fort. After explaining about the entity that is the mekhela sador, Paramita remarks that the people in Delhi know what it is and how to wear it. “If we need (subsidies or materials), the government is willing to give us. But we just want to stand for our own. If we make one piece and sell it for `100, then `50 goes for expenditure and `50 is for savings. This way, we try to generate capital. But the thing is, if they give us money, it (the art) becomes spoiled for the future; it is the easy way,” she says.
Pamringla talks about how much she tries to introduce new patterns into the traditional weave, finding ways to bring the ceremonial spirit to casual wear and the modern woman. Susant Phukan of NOMI Weavers Nest, has been encouraging his tribal weavers to let him make other garments from the embroidered material used for the wraps; he’s inches away from success.
And that’s why, this is a story of how an exhibition is made of several stories. Chetri has never been to Chennai before. Between her Hindi (I think) and my English, I tried to tell her that she should visit the Marina before she leaves. She replied that people from her tribe do not wear any accessories and stick to simple cotton clothes. Pamringla mentioned that they prefer to stick it out on their own in the business, instead of relying on the government — apart from the little help like these expo invites; it was a matter of pride. Susant narrated his tale of picking up this trade after spending over a decade in the IT sector; it had been his late sister’s dream. Now he uses the skills from the past life to make it well here. There was Dhiraj Rajbongshi of Dhiraj Handicrafts, who was gracious even as I interrupted his lunch and after a good talk asked me to visit again in two days.
Well, the exhibition is open till January 15. Perhaps this’ll be a story of how you make the best of it.