Home is where the art is.
For residents of Ajrakhpur, on the outskirts of Bhuj in Kachchh district, art has been at the heart of their survival and revival. Almost all residents here are involved in Ajrakh―a unique style of block printing and dyeing. It is so intrinsic to their identity that when an earthquake flattened their ancestral village―Dhamadka―and they moved to a new village some 50km away, they named it after their 4,500-year-old art form.
On January 26, 2001, Gujarat saw its worst earthquake in 50 years, with its epicentre 70km northeast of Bhuj. In a matter of minutes, almost everything, living and otherwise, returned to dust. Tens of thousands of people lost their lives, more than a lakh were injured and there was destruction all around. Those that survived had to start from scratch.
The residents of Ajrakhpur―all Muslims from the Khatri community―were no exception. Fortunately, their most valuable asset happened to be something intangible―their craftsmanship. But even before the earthquake, the villagers were looking for another place to settle and continue their craft because of the drought in Dhamadka. They collectively bought a huge tract of land and resettled in what is now Ajrakhpur. “This location satisfied different criteria like accessibility and proximity to the city, airport, schools and hospitals,” said Ismail Mohammed Khatri, a master craftsman with an honorary doctorate from a UK university. The Khatris trace their roots to Sindh in Pakistan, he added.
Today, some 200 independent houses, and 90 workshops and shops line the narrow lanes splotched with the remnants of dyes. Time moves at a leisurely pace in Ajrakhpur, perhaps in step with the slow process of the art that binds the village. Ajrakh is loosely derived from the Urdu phrase Aaj rakh (keep it for today). But the entire process, which involves various stages of dyeing and printing, could take way more than a day―16 days or more, depending on the design.
Near an open field outside a small unit, a worker starts the process by first washing a white cotton cloth to remove starch or any other residue. The cloth is then soaked in a mix of cow dung, castor oil and other ingredients and dried and later dyed with a solution of myrobalan, giving it a yellow tint. These steps are repeated multiple times.
At a workshop nearby, the next stage begins―printing the cloth in various Ajrakh patterns using outlines and colour blocks. Indigo and other dark shades are mostly preferred for the print. The remaining stages include a repeat of drying, dyeing and boiling, which takes place at different locations in the village. The final product: handmade saris, dress material, shirts, kurtas, drapes, stoles and bedsheets. The annual turnover from the sale of these products is around Rs20 crore.
What makes Ajrakhpur and its art distinct, said Khatri, was that almost all artisans apply the traditional method of producing and using natural dyes. Chemical dyes, he said, corrupted their craft from the 1940s to the 1990s. Even now, many Ajrakh artists in the district use chemical dyes, as it is easier and cheaper to produce.
While the residents of Ajrakhpur rebuilt their lives thanks to a priceless legacy, a timeless beauty, or so it once was, lies in ruins in Bhuj. There is nothing queen-like about Rani Mahal, one of the three palaces inside the Darbargarh palace complex built by the Jadejas who ruled Kachchh between 1540 and 1948. Rani Mahal, like many portions within the complex, bore the brunt of the earthquake, its walls now cracked and weedy. But the other two palaces―Aina Mahal and Prag Mahal―were fortunate enough to be restored.
Aina Mahal got its name because of its mirrored interiors, which was used to illuminate the palace majestically with less effort. Chief architect Ram Singh Malam designed the palace during the reign of Maharao Lakhpatji. The palace is now a museum, housing artefacts, a collection of rare ‘reverse paintings’, currencies, letters and mummified lions hunted by the royals. There is a touch of the palace’s European architecture even in the lounge―the mattress came from England. But the most unique artefact here, perhaps, is the lunar calendar-cum-clock, resembling a mini cupboard. It could once accurately predict the sunrise and sunset timings. It is thought to be the only such piece in the country. “During the earthquake, it crashed to the ground and stopped working,” said a palace staff. “For 20 years, many experts and representatives of watch brands have had a look at it but no one could repair it.”
Prag Mahal, with its Gothic and Roman architecture, is relatively new. It was constructed around 150 years ago during the rule of Rao Pragmalji II. The durbar hall retains its past glory with chandeliers and statues; there are weapons and animal trophies on display, too. Its grandeur has also been captured on reel, like in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam.
It, however, takes more than a village to rise from ruin. Devaraj from Chapredi village―not very far from Bhuj―would know. His four-room house collapsed like a house of cards during the 2001 earthquake. Devaraj and his family, like most in the village, were forced to take shelter in the fields. “We could have never afforded to build houses on our own,” he said. Within a year, the Malayala Manorama Charitable Trust―set up by THE WEEK’s parent company―stepped in and shouldered the responsibility of reconstructing the village. “The families became beneficiaries of high-quality houses which stand strong even now,” said Devaraj. “In a way, the project was also an equaliser as the rich and the poor both lived in the same type of houses.”
Today, 650 people make up Chapredi village. “After the construction of new houses, people regained confidence,” said Shyama Rupa Alabhai, 76. Like many others in the village, Alabhai has two houses on his plot―one built by the trust and the other by him. The trust built 119 houses, roads, temple, mosque, park and also a community hall, which now hosts religious events and social gatherings (the trust also constructed 36 houses for Malayali families in Adipur).
An elegant birdhouse in the centre of the Chapredi village serves as a meet-up point for the elderly. As the birds chatter loudly, so do the men of the village. “This is an ideal place for us to catch up with friends and rest under the shade,” said Amira Velabhai, who along with other villagers makes it a point to regularly refill the bird feeder at the top. “I spend at least three to four hours here daily. This is almost like home for me.”