Light up the darkness!

                                               

                                                       Scenes from Kumartali.

                                                Potters of Kumartali busy with their art.


Let there be light! Light on various strands of existentialism, light on a nation that’s withering away in corruption and finally light on our very souls caged in a body of flesh and blood which forms the basis of our conscience. O lord this is my prayer on deepavali!(festival of lights)

In Vedic cosmology sattva is a guna(fundamental quality) which stands for light, purity, goodness. It is the embryonic emergence that shapes the other two gunas which are rajas and tamas. To put it more coherently, sattva (light) is what shapes and brings balance to dark inanimate objects. Light from the sun permeates through all objects on earth and has created a system of reckoning for all forms of life. All creation is governed by the manifestation of light and a whole universe revolves around it.  However, metaphorically the meaning of light can be refracted through many a prism. Often life has been described to me as a long journey through a tunnel trying to reach the light at its end, and for each one that light has different connotation, it’s the culminating point where the reason of existence meets their expectations. So life becomes a long exodus towards the promised light of fulfillment.

Leaving behind the outer manifestations of light when I look inside myself, I realize that there is a different sort of light---a subtle spiritual mechanism hidden behind the bodily structure, a science of the soul .It is said that all living beings are made in the image of God therefore our souls are anchored in the Divine, which is why a new born baby smiles as it sleeps because its connection to the omnipotent is undisturbed. As an adult, spiritual realism has lately been occupying my thoughts and I turned to the science of yoga to learn about the laws ruling the realms of consciousness so that it would rekindle the light in me and help me comprehend the true nature of matters in my life. My practice of the inner science of yoga continues with the hope that everything in the future will improve by making a spiritual effort in the mind.

Auburn leaves slowly fall from trees above, autumn is here and nature is shedding its old attire to prepare for the new. After hectic months of making idols for durga puja, the potters of Kumartuli in Kolkata have no respite. Blue idols of goddess kali have to be created, the fearful and ferocious dark mother is to be revered on the day of deepavali. The potters wheels are furiously churning, clay is being shaped into the mother goddess and at the same time “diya” or lamps are getting baked to brighten homes in Kolkata. Deepavali  meaning” an array of lights” is a festival that marks the victory of good over evil, darkness being consumed by light and the potters have to work hard to supply the enormous demand for diyas  so that the city can outshine any eclipse. To witness an ancient craft that is passed down from father to son, I arrive at Kumartuli as an insect is drawn towards the light but this time it’s the light of art and creativity. At a time when my nation is passing through trying times politically and economically, I witness a working class of artists employing their skills for survival. Through the exercise of power, vision and work these potters are liberating themselves from poverty which has shackled majority of the masses in India. Their efforts are not futile, the world now recognizes them as the potters who create beautiful idols of goddesses, but  kriya kalash is working on displaying their lesser known creations. I sign off from this blog with the hope that as we work towards creating light for others, we will naturally light our way through life.

                                                    Diyas being painted .

                             
                                                     The finished product.

                                    Different types of diyas (lamps) made by the potters of Kumartali.

If you like the diya or lamps made by the potter community of kumartali, kindly contact us on kriyakalash@gmail.com

Bamboo Reinforced

                                                   A "pandal" in Kolkata.

                                                 Bamboo mugs from Assam.

                               
                                               Deities carved into bamboo roots.

It’s that time of the year again! Goddess Durga has left her celestial abode and come down to earth to visit her maternal home. The city of Kolkata is exhilarated with joy as it welcomes the eternal mother, a magnificent woman with ten hands, a symbol of the divine purging out all evil .Every ‘para’ or lane in the city is constructing a decorative “pandal”, each proclaiming to be better than the other, specimens of artistic ingenuity for their beloved mother to reside. As I drive home from work, each day I witness the cityscape transform, from  skeletal bamboo constructions, lit up high rises to ostentatious ‘pandals’, Kolkata is shinning and alive. It is at this time of the year that the bamboo forms the basis of compound art in the form of “pandals’.

 ‘Uttare charu?/Dhakkhine garu/pube hah/pashime bah’…(kitchen on the north, cow shed on the south, pond/duckery on the east and bamboo groove on the west)…Nayan Gogoi recalls an ancient assamese wisdom that emphasizes the importance of bamboo in homestead planning. Bamboo is his source of livelihood. For years, it has been subjected to his contemplation and been turned to beautiful artistic decorative pieces. Bamboo has been his canvas of expression and the basis of his small business in the village of Dhubri in Assam. The bamboo mugs he makes are a specialty and in demand during the festival of Bihu when “sujen”(alcoholic beverage) is made and drunk in great quantities.

Tucked in the lower ranges of eastern Himalayas is Ziro valley(Arunachal Pradesh), home of the Apatanis. A tribe of nature worshippers , they have mastered the art of land cultivation which has enabled them to be self sufficient through centuries . This unique tribe has developed an indigenous method of growing bamboo that never flowers thus making it immune to rodent and birds. Naturalist and conservationists in their own right, the Apatanis use bamboo in various spheres of their lives. The women are excellent weavers and bamboo is used to make baskets, haversack bags and even kitchen utensils. Bamboo here is a source of utilitarian art that helps the tribe to function through their daily chores.

Three different states,…three different usage of the sturdy bamboo. An object of utility, it is contributing in the process of making beautiful art. Whether it’s the foundation of a pandal or being skillfully carved to make it ornamental or even woven into exceptional utensils distinctive to an isolated tribe , the bamboo has surpassed its role of simply being a poor man’s timber.

                                                         An Apatani tribal woman.
                                                       (photograph courtesy wikipedia)

                                                    Apatani bamboo utensils.

If you would like to purchase the bamboo products on display and help Kriya Kalash promote artisans from the northeast of India, kindly contact us on kriyakalash@gmail.com

Bollywood's Painted Posters

                                          Artists pay tribute to their city on the walls of Matunga railway station.

                                                           Chor bazaar in Mutton Street.

                                               Hand painted poster of the movie "Guide"

Mumbai---City of dreams? City of persistence? City of hustlers ? Every one arrives here with their bag of ambitions and wrestles it out with this giant mammoth of human deluge to either make it or get swallowed. I rolled into Mumbai, one wet morning unsure about whether I should brave the traffic and set out to look for the famed hand painted Bollywood posters of yesteryears. Since I had read that this eclectic dying art form is still found in the lanes of chor bazaar in old Mumbai, I was desperate to find it. I got out of my hotel in Juhu and walked down the street looking for a cab driver who would help me navigate this alien city. After a few minutes of haggling on transportation fares, I was sitting in a black and yellow fiat stuck in traffic, conversing with my cab driver.

Now, Mr. Vibhushan Gupta (the cabbie) is a true blue blooded ‘Mumbaikar’. An old timer of kashmiri descent, he migrated to Mumbai and made it his home decades back. Ever since he has been driving a taxi and could proudly name all the celebrities he has ferried around. The drive was long but conversation colourful, he spoke about his love for classic Bollywood films, shiv-sena and politics, scarcity of  water followed by paralyzing rains. I could sense the amount of love and pride this non Marathi heart had for the city he called home- a city that soars and stinks, inflicts innumerous adversities on its denizens but keeps them going because it never lets them stop dreaming. The dream machine is ever churning pulling more people towards it each day.

Speaking of dreams, bollywood is an industry that sells it and has our nation hypnotized. Mad scientists, hard boiled detectives, sensuous starlets, murderous robots, vengeful goddesses, saucy heroines, super human men-are staples of bollywood movies. It’s an ever evolving genre of motion picture that is constantly swinging between fantasy and realism. Unlike the aggressive marketing propaganda of movies today, bollywood of yesteryears employed simpler tactics. As a child I remember seeing colourful hoardings outside movie theatres depicting the actors in their various facial contortions, from trade mark expressions of romantic nuances, angst from tragedy to violent rage, images all hand painted and pasted above making us mere mortals look up and gape at these celestial beings of cinema. This art form is now scarce. Cinema halls have switched over to cheaper digital prints leaving poster artists with no option but to change their means of livelihood. Most of these artists have disappeared and chor bazaar in Mumbai has the last of these posters. That’s why ,I was on my way, eager to get my hands on this rare form of art.

Chor bazaar which literally means “thieves market” is aptly named since all stolen goods eventually finds its way here. It’s famous for antique items including vintage bollywood posters. As I entered its narrow lanes hopping and skipping trying to avoid pot-holes filled with rain water, I saw the iconic “Mother India” poster on display in one of the shops. Arif is one of the last hand-painted poster sellers on Mutton Street. Like most old things find their way to Chor bazaar, bollywood posters of every decade carefully wrapped in plastic adorn the walls of his tiny shop. Business is slow but Arif has not lost faith Apart from posters there are old gramophone records , movie pamphlets  and even song books. It is a store house of bollywood’s legacy. He still has a few poster artists working for him but orders are not coming in abundance these days .On learning that Kriya Kalash is interested in promoting poster art, Arif  agreed to be a part of the process ,thus enabling us to give new lease of life to this dying art form. Change is a good thing, but to preserve the old even better .Why should an art form this unique fade into oblivion? People like Arif and his poster artists need to get their due. Someone once told me that acceptance and neutrality to matters offers solutions, I now realize how wrong the logic is, because when there is a chance to make things right one should go ahead and be proactive about things and that’s what we at kriya kalash want to do by being in the process of preserving these hand made posters.

                                                              Some other iconic posters

If you would like to buy hand painted bollywood posters kindly contact us on kriyakalash@gmail.com. 

Beads of lore.

                                           
                                            Aka men in tradzy beads

                                    Women with painted faces in all their finery.

                                        Haggling over bride price using twigs.

Sleepless  roosters crowed, stray dogs barked ,cool winds gusted into the mountains making Nimasow shiver as he sat collecting the ritual items: a tigers claw, a pythons jaw, a crystal quartz and other objects that are a part of a Shaman’s kit. He has a ritual to perform today since the village is abuzz about the spirits being unhappy. The harvest has not been good this year.

Nimasow , as his father before, is the Shaman in the tiny village of Palizi, a rustic hamlet on the mountains of Arunachal Pradesh. He belongs to the Aka tribe, which is one of the last isolated tribes of these hills .They are a community of self sufficient set of people who have certain similarities to other Buddhist tribes of Arunachal. The tribe grows its own rice, vegetables, fruits , rear their own hogs and breed cattle, build their houses on silts and speak a unique dialect. It’s a utopian setting untouched by the outside world where life is still primitive and unengineered.

Nimasow is affectionately referred to as ‘Mucrow’ by his people-a term of endearment and apart from his shaman status, he is well known to have a collection of necklaces of yellow stone beads. Now, the Aka have more than 26 words to relate to the beads. Beyond being objects of adornment, beads are a status symbol and even play the part of currency for purchase or exchange. In one of its varied important forms , it is the dowry parents will give their daughters when she becomes a bride, and men of this village will adorn themselves with beaded necklaces on special occasions to show off their status- as Nimasow today. These necklaces are simply made out of yellow stones that used to be found in the river nearby. But now those stones are no longer found and the necklaces have become a precious commodity that the Aka people have inherited from their elders. They believe these necklaces embody the deified spirits of their ancestors.

When I first saw an Aka necklace, I could see certain design similarities to the prayer beads we Tibetans wear but looking closely I realized that it’s a unique artifact having symbolic representation. It stands for a way of life centuries old. The way our ancestors lived when the world to them was flat and sustainability was got from ones immediate surroundings. There has always been a huge connection between people and their landscape and the beads represent that connection by beautifying and also running the economy of this tribe. At a time when rest of the world is committing ecocide, I sit writing about a tribe where men and nature exist in harmony-a race so precious that I had to document them in my blog so people can read about the Aka tribe and their precious beads.

Raja and his terracotta plates....

After a tiring week of flying I found myself on a train heading to Shantiniketan with a friend. As the defecated city landscape waned, green paddy fields, little huts and nature in all its bounty emerged. It is said Maharishi Debendranath Tagore found the town Bhubandanga peaceful, hence named it Shantiniketan and at a time in my life where peace was what I was searching, I found myself in a town that promised it. As I walked with the rusty red earth beneath my feet, I looked around with immense pleasure in my heart. There were huge banyan trees that had children swinging from it, students cycling on the roads with green foliage all around. I was in Rabindranath Tagore’s haven of art and literature, a precious relic of our Indian history which still survives and carries on the Patha Bhavana legacy of Tagore’s school of ideals.

But this blog is not about Tagore instead about a chance encounter I had with an artist at a studio in Shantiniketan. After taking in the sights and sounds of the famous Kala Bhavan and meeting various young artists who are paving their way into the art world, I was in absolute awe. Here I was meeting free thinkers amalgamating what they were taught with their individual thoughts to create a new impression in the Indian art scene. We were invited to their studio to look at their works. Huge canvases were on display as a testament of the artist’s sweat and hard-work, from tea-stained pixel art to modern contemporary art, all trying to state its creators mind. Bound by the limits of my understanding I started moving through each artist’s station taking in all that was displayed. Then in one corner I saw Mr Raja aka Rajendra Kumar Pradhan deeply engrossed in his work. Holding a brush,his hand steadily moved across his blue painting, I watched him work silently too scared to disturb a man engrossed in his art. Beside him there were certain terracotta plates that caught my eye. Now, images do not change the world, but they certainly provoke reactions in people and I was completely taken in by what I saw--beautiful images depicting scenes from the epic battle of Mahabharata, Maa Durga standing in all her glory, her multiple hands all stretched out radiating ‘shakti’(powerful strength),our Indian gods, goddesses, warriors and demons of yore all sketched and posing in circular plates of clay. I waited as its maker silently looked up at us from his work and stood to greet us with his hands folded into a 'namaste'. I instead reached out and shook Raja’s hand and decided that kriya kalash had to display this artist’s work. We are dealing with artifacts and terracotta plates made by this shantiniketan artist needed a larger audience. So here I am writing about Raja and his painted plates. If my readers like these plates kindly contact us at kriyakalash@gmail.com.    

Dhokra art (using the lost wax casting technique)

                                                (measurements 4' 3")

                                             
                                                    (measurements 5' 3'')

                                              (Dhokra wall hanging)

Making a mound of earth, wax and frankincence paste, Sanjay applies it over  the clay surface. He draws inspiration from his surroundings. Sita, the village belle carrying a pot of water in her head, Radhika, the matriarch standing outside her hut with her child, Tiwari marching to his field with plough in hand or Pintoo and the village band of musicians are all cast into thin still metal figures. The process is lengthy but Sanjay is a master at it, he is a dhokra damar tribesman settled in Burdwan district of West Bengal where dhokra art has found its permanent root of resurgence. With a thread, he then makes a filigree of designs on his pasted models and then burns the clay on fire and beewax. A pot of molten metal (usually brass) is carefully poured by him into the clay cast and left to dry in the sun. After drying, the mould is broken and flawless metal figurines which are miniature imitations of his village brethren emerge.

 Dhokra is an ancient art form that can be traced back to the figurines found in the mohenjo-daro sites of the Indus valley civilization. It has been diminished to a dying art form but in the villages of Jharkhand, West Bengal and Odisha certain tribes still practice this classical art. Sanjay Karmakar of Burdwan and Rajkishor Shou from Odisha are two such artists who have made this traditional Indian style their livelihood thus adopting the primitive vocation of their ancestors.

Paraja is the first realistic novel I read which describes the predicament of the tribes of Odisha. It poignantly describes through an epic tale the slow decline of a tribal patriarch and his family from subsistence livelihood to bondage to the local money lender. Gopinath Mohanty, a great Oriya literary figure was a government servant and witnessed the plight of these tribes first hand and penned it down his book. From having their land taken away by the government to the migratory lifestyle they have adopted to earn a livelihood...... exploitation at every aspect of their life as urbanity crept in.That is why it’s a wonder that some tribesmen have still retained their art and are trying to make a living out of it. Now, we at Kriya Kalash want to be a part of the resurgence process of dhokra art and bring a purity of intent to the creative commitment of these rural artists by exhibiting their works in our blog.

                                                                                

 If you would like to be a part of the process too and show your support by buying their figurines, kindly contact us on kriyakash@gmail.com  (price on request)

tie and dye (bandini)

                                       Bandini fabric drying in the sun.

                                         
                                  Janis joplin in a tie and dye outfit at woodstock.

                                       
                                          A bandini saree.

In 1967, Michael McClure led the crowd chanting “OM” at the San Francisco’s Golden Gate and started off the “hippie” movement. A movement that pursued the realization of individuality based on the fundamental ethos of being in harmony with nature. A time when power had become all pervasive and there was no ideology left, the youth decided to get back to the core value system that humanity stands for-peace, love and harmony. Never was the Indian connection so strong, hippies grew their hair long, wore psychedelic colorful clothes and conformed to eastern philosophy. Artistic experimentation especially in music was huge but perhaps the most prominent remnant of that generation is their Organically ‘tie and dyed’ colorful clothes.

Now, in western India women have been using organic methods to make their clothes colorful since ancient times. Bandini or bandhej is an art of 'tie and dye’ practiced mainly in the states of Rajasthan and Gujarat. By using simple techniques of dyeing fabrics like cotton and muslin that are tied tightly with a thread, various patterns like Lehriya, Mothda, Ekdali and Shikari are created. Each village has its own unique pattern of dots and stripes made in pink, green, yellow, red by their women in the backyards of their homes.

As I mentioned in my previous blog a visit to Gujarat got me the opportunity to witness women living in a village near Rajkot make bandini fabric. Pools of colored water had fabric soaked in it. Vegetable dyes were being used to keep the process earthy and organic. Unlike the West where tie and dye was used to uphold an ideology on what life ought to be (a gentle nondoctrinaire ideology of peace, love and personal freedom), here in this village that ideology was a way of life. Human beings living peacefully in harmony with nature, sustaining themselves with an ancient art form that enabled their women financial and personal freedom. As I stood there, I remembered college days where I would wear psychedelic tees and flaunt an ideology that I didn’t truly grasp till now. Being a hippie didn’t just mean a hedonistic lifestyle, it was about free expression and essentially a striving for realization of one’s relationship to life and other people. These rural women around me had no idea about the profound impression their simple bandini had made in my mind. They lived a life in communal harmony where basic food clothing and shelter mattered and had no complications of modern life. Promoting their work would give me a sense a pride since I would be adding a tie and dye art form made in India to Kriya Kalash thus allowing me to be steeped in my roots but branching it out all over the place…

If you would like bandini (tie and dye) fabric from India, kindly contact us on kriyakalash@gmail.com

A Small Voice for Tibet

                                  the Singsa clans first photograph in India.

The Buddhist view of moral conduct is that it will shield you like strong armour.

                                                                                                                 Shamar rimpoche.

When momola Pembalama came to visit us during December of 1990, I remember the winter flowing by with her story telling. As she sat on her favorite cane chair, her fingers constantly moving through her prayer beads while she narrated stories of yore, we her grandchildren (some listening and others fidgeting )would be transported to the past tracing the genesis of our Tibetan family(singsa clan)in India. These afternoons on the terrace involved dreamy anecdotes as I sat eating oranges under the mild winter sun. Momola Pembalama would dramatically narrate the long trek our ancestor Thillen Sardar took from Tibet to India carrying only a sack of salt which he would use to barter for grain on his arrival, since in those days Tibet had no currency and traders would barter items like musk, wool, falcons and even salt……. There is no doubt that every  displaced Tibetan family in India and abroad has a similar story of migration because it is not easy transitioning from having a homeland to arriving as a refugee into a foreign land. Like dissipated snowflakes in an ocean Tibetans have sought sanctuary all over the world and the tragedy of not being able to go back to their homeland even after decades in exile is insurmountable.

A horrific image of a burning man running through the streets of Delhi on 28^th march,2012 was published in the papers a few days back. Jampel Yeshi, a 27year old monk decided self-immolation was the only way of protesting against Chinese policies in his homeland. Thirty or more Tibetan exiles have done the same before him. Tehelka, an Indian magazine states that “a document smuggled out of palden’s monastery, lists forced resettlement of Tibetan nomads, increased regulation of religious practice and heavy patrolling of Tibetan-dominated towns as factors in the monk’s decision to self-immolate”. Now, as an art blogger I’ve been advised time and again never to politicize art but for me the questions lie on whether art is functional or just for art’s sake? Should art have a cause attached to it so it can be humanized? In this case YES! The Tibetan cause is a personal one because I belong to this community and I have decided to use Tibetan art in a political context so that it offers a solution. Art can be used to ideologically challenge the powers that be and hope some justice is given, otherwise what is the point? The passage to India has not been easy for Tibetans. They have arrived through the years with nothing but clothes on their bodies and skills in hand. They have started all over again taking up different trades in the hills of Darjeeling and Ghoom in West Bengal , Dharamshala in Uttaranchal, and settlements down in Karnataka. Tibetan artisans, a reclusive art community have had to expose themselves and make money through their craft. Tibetan wood works, thangka paintings, ceramic sculptures and silver jewellery are now easily recognized due to their uniqueness. But there is more work to be done and kriya kalash has joined hands with Tibetan artisans to promote their craft. We are attaching a deeper meaning to the artifacts because this time it is standing up for humanity, freedom, justice, everything that the free world takes for granted. We stand for Jampel Yeshi and all other unknown Tibetans who have lost their lives in some way due to this displacement. Lastly, we stand for Tibetans all over the world struggling to rebuild their lives.

A thangka is a silk painting with embroidery mainly depicting a buddhist deity or scene.

Tibetan artisans are excellent wood carvers, making wooden altars (chesums) and sculptures keeping the religious theme in mind.



If you would like to purchase Tibetan thankgas,ceramic sculptures and wood works, kindly mail us at kriyakalash@gmail.com. prices are on request. you can also look at the following link to view another artifact in our blog.


http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/01/tibetan-snow-lion.html

Kutch Kraft

                                          saline mudflats

 
                                          Rabari woman in the desert.

                                      A sectional view of their embroidery

Rann of kutch,a vast salt marsh located in the western region of India is perhaps the harshest terrain in our subcontinent. A flat desert of saline mudflats where the earth beneath ones feet is broken and thirsting for water gets quenched seasonally during its summer monsoons. Its vast expanse is filled with standing water and its barren landscape comes to life with bright vibrant flamingoes. Speaking of flamingoes, perhaps that’s how I would describe the women of kutch, tall statuesque figures clad in colourful attires and jewellery, these women give a burst of life to their dead surrounding.

On my road trip through Gujarat this month, gujari women carrying pots filled with water could be seen walking down the roads. Life in the desert is tough, lack of basic amenities, poor health conditions and the recent earthquake have severely affected the tribes of kutch, but women from here are relentless and have made their mark in India with their embroidery skills. An article from TEHELKA (an Indian magazine) mentions “….how the embroidery and craft pieces found in the Gujari outlets in the 80’s was an outcome of successive years of drought and large scale migration, leaving women to shoulder the burden. Traditionally the women of kutch kept embroidered pieces as part of their trousseau but they have been forced to sell them. But middlemen exploited them as tradition restricted their movements….”  It was after reading this article,I decided to visit a section of kutch, so that I could get in touch directly with these women and see their wonderful art.

My search ended when I was asked to meet Binuben by the locals. A matriarchal figure in the village she is a widow with no children and has dedicated her life in helping women of the Rabari, Ahir and Harijan tribes. Despite the nomadic nature of the tribes, Binuben set up an art collective “mahila samiti” in this rural setting enabling these women to make a living out of their embroidery. Some destitute women stayed back with her and are helping with her endeavors while the rest come in seasonally with new handicrafts they have created to sell. Binuben explained to me that her efforts revolve around enabling the women to take control of the production and process, thus making them skilled entrepreneurs where they are in control of selling their handicrafts. She showed me various types of embroideries that women in her “samiti”(organization) were specialized in, which included Rabari, ahir, sindhi banni, mutwa, ari and soof styles. Beautiful intricately sown wall-hangings, chadars (bed-sheets ), covers, cholis (blouses) were being designed. I decided to get involved and do my bit in helping promote their craft, after all kriya kalash is about finding artifacts from remote corners of India and showcasing it. The story of  women from kutch and their craft needed to be told.

On my return journey I couldn’t help reflecting on how Gujarat,the state,is on the move with industrialization taking over, but side by side live the spirits of the nether world, the poltergeist of dead rivers and dry wells….a land of magic with fables of ghostly lights(Chir battis) flashing through its skies. It is here in the Rann of Kutch, impoverished women sing through late hours of the night, after a hard day of labour, jabbing their needles expertly into the cloth making fuchsia parrots, turquoise peacocks and geometric design with mirrors that glitter up their tiny huts. This is the real side of India, a rustic earnest process of creation that people of the world should witness…….

 

                                   Wall-hangings made by women of kutch.


We at kriya kalash wish to help Binuben and the women of her "mahila samiti".If you like their embroidered products,samples on display above, kindly mail us at kriyakalash@gmail.com.Your contributions will be forwarded to them.

make some noise daz!

The words “once an object has been incorporated in a picture, it accepts a new destiny” comes to mind when I think of a tiger imprinted on the wall of a blind school at garcha 1^st lane, dover place..its creator Daryl  Bennett aka Sinna one was perhaps destined to pay his tribute to Kolkata and its old world charm by marking its wall with an art form that is contemporary and very dynamic, a graffiti. As the orange tiger gazes out at the denizens of this city, I cannot help but wonder at Daryls ability to amalgamate the character of Bengal and its greats like Jamini Roy into this artefact. 


It is indeed wonderful that there are art collectives like Asthir (https://www.facebook.com/pages/ASTHIR-Art-on-the-Move/172421812793357) that initiated this whole process. We at Kriya Kalash and the local community of the place where this was held were also a part of this event to back it up and give it all our support.

My first meeting with Daryl or Daz (as his friends lovingly call him) was at a friend’s party. I was immediately enamoured by his boyish charm and goofy mannerisms. Having heard that he is a graffiti artist and works with delinquent boys back in U.K., our conversation revolved around comic strips,  sci fi movies and music. I got to know that Daryl loved the works of Frank Miller, Kev O'Neill, Simon Bisley, all of whom have associated with DC comics. But it was when he mentioned graphic artist Vaughn Bode, Hayao Miyazaki and the movie “AKIRA” by Katsuhiro Otomo that Daryl the artist started to emerge. I could easily juxtapose his “ Transformers  like” robot  graffiti with manga artists from Japan and his childlike cartoon images with Bodes “cheech wizard”. I couldn’t help comparing Daryl’s journey to India as a homage to Vaughn bode who is an apotheosis in the graffiti genre. Now, Vaughn Bode dappled with spirituality and was into mysticism, so there was nothing better than to have an artist he influenced paint his form of art in the land that defines mysticism.

However, Daryl’s connect with India does not end there. He spent his childhood in Kalimpong and has a deep connect with people from this Himalayan region. From sketching intricate Tibetan patterns to constantly showing off his Nepali saying “हुन्छ” and “बिस्तारि बिस्तारि ” was an absolute delight to a girl who always is in a hurry. Almost two decades after he had left India, Daryl had returned to the country of his childhood discovering and reminiscing. He professes to return again and we wish him the best and hope to see him soon. So Daz cheers to you for bringing a little punk and urban style of art into the City of Joy and by the words of Beastie Boys, one of your favorite bands “make (in) some noise”

SEEMA....with no boundaries.

Seema unlike her name is limitless; her talents know no boundaries and her gurgles of laughter cannot be contained.  Some, seven years back at a lounge in Pune, the only thing that could be heard above  loud “house” music was Seema’s gurgling laugh. I couldn’t help exclaim “That is loud! Who is that?!” and I was introduced to Seema who was still laughing with her friends over some drinks. That was not the last time we met. Over the days and months that went by in Pune we met regularly for short trips, outings and parties and gradually Seema, the person was revealed.  Seema turned out to be a gift hidden under layers and layers of beautiful wrapping papers. What a storehouse of talent?!

Just like our chance meeting , I was shocked when I entered her house and found myself surrounded by a platoon of murals and Ganeshas and his tiny mice. “Whoa!” I declared…still a little confused as to what these things were doing in her house. Then in one quiet corner was Pankaj religiously at work trying to get the shape of the mouse right. I quickly jumped over and congratulated him on his special talent and looked at Seema respectfully thinking what a lady to have let this dear man work in her apartment. He sheepishy smiled and credited Seema for honing his talents. I gasped unbelievingly! Seema?! My friend Seema, good ol’ Seema? Then out came the truth from behind the gurgles of laughter. She modestly whispered that she was a muralist, a painter and a sculptor and runs her business from home. That was some news! After that I started launching questions at her…how? When? Where?.... What else?. That is when I learnt that she was self taught. She never took any formal training. It is only after she was married and like most Indian brides, a homemaker that she decided to utilize her time effectively. She started observing artists in Nagpur and there on, she cultivated an interest in art. She requested permission from painters and muralists to sit beside them and just observe. Later she would go home and paint and express herself and bring it back to those artists for approval. That is how she honed her skills. Wait a minute! Did she just mention “married”? And I thought I was a good friend! I searched the house for pictures and expected those usual signs of a family to suddenly appear on walls or tables or shelves…some pictures perhaps, but they didn’t. Seema guessed what I was thinking and she said that she is a single mother and she is estranged from her husband for over 20 years. This was a lot of information and I was lost. I couldn’t believe what she was saying …she still looked so fit and young and beautiful. She then said she had a daughter a few years younger to me and that she had been raising her daughter on her own and trying to eke out a living with Pankaj’s help through these years. She walked out on her marriage for very painful reasons and has never looked back and has never taken her husband’s help. With a gulp, I digested this information and my respect for Seema grew tenfold. Never could I imagine that a spirit like hers existed beyond all that loud gurgles of laughter and smiling eyes.

Some two or three years back when I spoke to Seema she was on a crossroad. She wanted to quit art because she couldn’t keep up with the rising expenses and take up some desk job. With the art market down due to depression and high inflation rates, her business had taken a serious hit. It tore her to pieces to leave something she loved the most. In her darkest hours she had her talents to see her through…like a family like someone she was connected to from an unknown past…it had been with her. But now she was driven to the point where she was left with no options. At 50 she didn’t have anyone to look after her. 

But I would like to tell everyone who is reading this post that Seema and her art and her expressions are still with her as she is with them. She surpassed the time once again. Her devotional love for her expressions and her resilience is almost spiritual as is evident in her works. What is spirituality if not devotion, harmony and love and that undying single minded connection that one has with nature or with oneself?!

 So, we decided to do our bit for Seema, a great friend and an exceedingly talented individual. Here, we are with her products on display and for sale.

http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/01/3d-buddha.html
http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/02/indian-man-and-woman-vases.html
http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/01/meditate.html
http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/01/ganesha-clocks.html
http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/01/ganesha.html

Reflections on Meitei's fading art

                                                Manipuri Dance (Pung Cholom)

As an army officer’s daughter, I got to travel a lot. It wasn’t  a touristy way of seeing places cause most of the time I was riding in heavily armored vehicles and had an entourage of security personnel following me as I explored aptly termed ‘disturbed states’. Last year, I chanced upon an opportunity to travel to Manipur along with my father and I jumped at it.  My first impression of Manipur as I got out of the airport was how bad the roads were. Security was tight due to constant threat by militant groups and there were road blocks after every two minutes. Years of political unrest and military rule had not washed away the beauty of the landscape. The place was almost virginal, untouched by city life but it would have been serenely beautiful had it not been for constant political strife in Manipur.  Imphal, the city capital seemed like a battleground captured with all the security that one could see on the roads. As I peered out of the car to look at a woman police officer directing traffic all I could do was sigh.

That evening however, things changed for the better. As I sat among “lady wives” listening to conversations of how exorbitant food prices were in Manipur and how people were struggling to purchase basic amenities, a painting on the wall caught my attention. It depicted a strong white turbaned man holding onto the reins of a stallion ridden by a beautiful princess. I wanted to know more and walked over to Colonel Rajbir Singh, who was busy enjoying scotch and smoking his cigar in a corner. The colonel was delighted to answer  my questions and thus the night proceeded with him narrating Meitei myths and legends, among them the famous tragic  love story of ‘khamba and thoibi’ (characters in the painting). Manipur then transformed into a land of brave warriors battling elephant and tigers and beautiful princesses sacrificing  all for love.

(Now, the Meitei (s) history can be traced back to the Stone Age, from being nature worshippers, they later converted to Hinduism. The Meitei Hindus arguably belong to the Kshatriyas (the warrior clan) and consider themselves to be descendents of Prince Arjuna (from Mahabharata-the great Indian epic). Being devotees of Lord Krishna they sport large Chandan (sandalwood) tilaks from their nose to foreheads. The men are excellent horsemen and women gifted weavers, making the finest embroidered cotton fabrics. Most of their art reflects religious and mythical motifs and with such rich history and culture, Manipuris have mastered all forms of art whether its dance, paintings, artifacts or the martial arts)

My Manipuri sojourn did not end with an evening listening to Colonel Singh’s narration. Army life has its privileges even in most hostile environment, and my need to learn more about Meitei art was fulfilled with opportunities to visit museums and galleries there. From watching khamba-thoibi , pung cholom, Ras Lila dance forms to visiting handicraft cottages, I did it all. What I realized through the course of my visit was that although the government was doing its bit to promote these artists still a lot is left to be done.

 A trip to Moirang, another city in Manipur, exposed me to artists specializing in wood work. Due to the political climate, there were no tourists visiting this old cultural village. Most of these craftsmen were abandoning art to accommodate occupations that would bring in very little money for food and clean water. Samples of woodworks in Burmese teak were collected from various houses and I was told that I could choose and order the pieces I like. I was saddened by the state of affairs and decided then that something had to be done to keep this art form alive and thriving. Artists needed to get back to their craft and more people needed to know about Meitei art and culture.

(An example of Manipur Woodwork can be seen on of our previous blog posts. Here is the link : http://kriyakalash.blogspot.in/2012/01/manipuri-woodwork.html)

Fast forwarding to a year later, back in Kolkata, a friend and I decided to do our bit in reviving and promoting artisans and their artifacts. Manipur and its Meitei art form is a priority for us. Keeping our hopes and dreams alive we are pushing forward this cause inspired by words of Manipuri poet and social activist Irom Sharmila...

“I’ll spread the fragrance of peace

From kanglei, my birthplace

In the ages to come

It will spread all over the world.”

An ostiary's story

पोथी पढ़ पढ़ मुआ,पंडित भयो न कोए

ढाई आखर प्रेम के,जो  पढ़े सो पंडित होए ….. 

Reading books everyone died, none became very wise.

One who reads the words of love, only becomes wise….

                    (doha or couplets by sant kabir)

A couplet taught to most school children came to mind when we decided to write about an exceptional man from Kolkata. A working man of  no education, he is currently earning a living as a chowkidaar(gatekeeper). A chance meeting at a friend’s place lead to the discovery of Manohar ‘kaku’ and his love for making wire figurines. This is how it all came about……

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and after a meal of ‘panta bhaat’, ‘maacher jhol’ and ‘alu shiddho’ (mouth watering Bengali food) at Anurag’s place we sat chatting over ‘masala chai’ and like many in Bengal, the topic of discussion was a need for some quality art. I argued with my friend Anurag, declaring my displeasure about how art is degenerating into mediocrity. The need for perfection has surely been lost. I would not delve into the irrelevance of that argument anymore for my perception was reversed when I met Manohar ‘kaku’. Anurag took the two of us downstairs to a small little musty room at the outhouse.  There stood ‘kaku’ looking quite comical in his dirty ‘khakhis’ with few odd strands of greys shyly standing on his bare head, gay eyes and a toothless beetel nut smeared smile. While Anurag and my friend were happily interacting with ‘kaku’ I wasn't amused. I looked at Anurag in disbelief, wondering if he is going to pull an all poor emotional angle to prove his point. Oh come on! I am a little uptight I agree but only for the right reason.

Anurag cajoled ‘kaku’ into showing what he had made. ‘Kaku’ all shy giggling like a child showing off his toys came out with most curious little items made of wires. My jaw dropped! Regardless of propriety I took a step forward to take a peek inside his little dark room. As soon as my eyes could adjust to the light, I saw small little things made of wires lined against the wall- a cycle, Gandhi’s Charkha, a cobra, the snake charmer and so on.

Wires… ?! How did he come up with this idea? What was his inspiration? How could his mind possibly think of making such things? With a meager salary of INR 1500 per month and nothing but house pliers at his disposal he created these little things. A security guard of a high rise building in India is not a regular trained personnel but usually an individual from a village, who is hired to stay on guard all night and day, permitted to take short naps in between when no one is looking , and expected to be happy working on a meager salary. He should be ready to act as an electrician, a plumber, and coolie (Man Friday), be good company to catch up on neighbor’s gossip and also the one who takes care of your children while they are playing downstairs. Such multi-skills are a pre-requisite for such a job. But ‘kaku’ is exceptional. Yes, he might not be very skilled at wire-art but with whatever little he has at his disposal and a beautiful imagination at work he creates these curious items within minutes. I forgot all about mediocrity and felt ashamed at my vanity. There is perhaps no mediocrity in true art for it is characterized by an irresistible urge in the creative artist.

   

We at kriya kalash wish to help Manohar 'kaku' continue his craft and are displaying his works on this blog, if you want to buy any of these pieces kindly email us on kriyakalash@gmail.com Your contributions will be forwarded to him along with your best wishes.