THE LOST ART
When Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, a French gem merchant arrived in Dhaka some 400 years ago he was astounded by Dhaka's splendour. According to him, it was a city of skilful artisans and art loving aristocrats. The city's booming industry of exotic artefacts like muslin, furniture of delicate design, exotic perfumes and jewellery in intricate patterns could not be found anywhere else on earth.
The heydays witnessed by Tavernier have come to an end centuries ago. Now in this city of plastics and pollution, searching for such works of art is an arduous task. Most of the artefacts like muslin are now forever lost.
For all latest news, follow The Daily Star's Google News channel. However, in the gloomiest part of the city signs of it's rich past still glimmer.
In an isolated corner of the local souk of the old part of Dhaka's Sutrapur area, a handful of potters can be seen throwing clay at their traditional potter's wheel. In the dirty alley of old Dhaka's Shankhari Bazaar only three to four artisans still carry on the trade of their ancestors. They made and decorate shankha, a ritual bangle curved out of conch shell. But some of the artisans like rattan weavers and traditional carpenters have no such fixed address. They have become floating workers moving from one workshop to another in search of a living. In this time of automated industry they have become strangers in their own land.
When we reach Tapan's place in the remotest part of Sutrapur bazaar, we notice the worried faces of Tapan and his family members. It is something frightening they are whispering about. A neighbour of Tapan's workshop-cum-home informs us that local goons who 'control' the Sutrapur Bazaar have threatened Tapan with dire consequences an hour earlier as he has not paid his monthly “donation” yet. They have threatened to evict him from the bazaar if he fails to pay them the money that they have demanded. It takes a lot of time to make Tapan believe that we are not another party of extortionists.
Tapan's workshop, where he and his family members live, is made up of two ramshackle huts which are probably some of the last remnants of its kind in Dhaka. In one of the sheds, the potter's wheel which Tapan inherited from his ancestors is placed. Tapan says, “We belong to the Paal community of the Hindus. Pottery and making earthen statues is our traditional and religious profession. But nowadays it's hard to maintain this profession.” Sign of his hardship is quite evident all over his place.
Once a week, Tapan has to find and collect suitable clay for his products which is becoming almost impossible in this city of concrete. Tapan says, “I, along with some of my friends, collect clay from as far as Nawabganj. We also have to buy dye and some dices of particular designs for our products.”
Once upon a time Tapan's ancestors made earthen ware of delicate design and glazing colours. Now Tapan's thought has become more market driven and he makes products of particular designs only to be sold in the common market. Tapan says, “We produce earthen pots, dishes, flower vases and statues of our goddesses. Actually for me making the statue is what I love to do and it is also useful in terms of income.”
Tapan's Muslim friend Selimuddin, who is also a potter, does not make statues of goddesses as he says his religion does not allow him to do so. Selim says, “I am a Muslim potter. My forefathers were also potters. We don't make Hindu statues. But only pottery doesn't pay off these days. So I also sell used clothes in the weekly market.”
Despite the hardship, there lies a glimmer of hope for the potters: the demand for things made of clay is increasing day by day. There are several street markets in Shahbagh where Tapan and his friend's handmade products are being sold every day. But neither the buyers nor the sellers nobody seems to be interested in the creators of the crafts.
Shankhari bazaar is also the home to the last Shankaries, the makers and designers shankhas. But after reaching the dirty, narrow lane we fail to find any trace of their workshop. After a lot of enquiries we find a person who directs us towards a century-old ruined building. Through a narrow, sultry passage of merely two feet width, we enter into a compartment where Uddhab Rakshit and his assistant have been carving Shankas for decades with their traditional equipment.
At first Uddhab the master artisan gives us the cold shoulder saying, “Lots of journalists have come here with their heavy cameras. What is the meaning of all these pictures? It makes no change, and we are quite disturbed with it.” After a lot of persuasion Uddhab agrees to share his life with us. Uddhab says, “It's very sad that the industry of Shankha making is in tatters. It's because of machine-curved poor quality Indian shankhas which are being smuggled in huge quantities every day.” Diponkor Saha, one of Uddhab's buyers says that the government has imposed a 27 percent tax on importing conch shell from Sri Lanka, the main raw material for producing Shankha. That's why most of the merchants don't import conch shell anymore and the industry has completely collapsed.
Shankha, a conch shell bangle is an indispensable part of Hindu culture. A married Hindu woman must wear a pair of shankhas on both wrists and can only take it off after her husband's death. “There are three types of Shankhas,” says Uddhab, "'Kanchanambar', 'Dhola' and 'Jaji' and among them the best quality is 'Kanchanamber', which has an exquisite golden shade in white.” The process of making Shankha is a pitiless task. Shell dust covers the entire room while grinding and curving the tough conch shell. Nasal and lung infection is common among these artistes due to constant inhaling the harsh dust particles.
Despite all kinds of adversities, Uddhab and a few of his friends are still pursuing the profession of their forefathers. But without any intervention from the government it is quite certain that we are going to lose an exquisite element of our culture very soon.
Dhaka has been famous for artistic rattan works from long ago. Even lots of Mughal and early British accounts can be found praising the finely weaved rattan furniture manufactured in Dhaka. A constant supply of top quality rattan stems from Sylhet used to keep the city's rattan weavers busy throughout the year. But Mohammad Zakir Hossain, an entrepreneur who owns a rattan furniture factory tells us about the bleak reality. Zakir says, “Sylheti rattans are now gone. All of these rattans are imported from Indonesia, the Philippines and Vietnam. There is a syndicate who controls the whole import. Mass deforestation and lack of cultivation have made Bangladeshi rattan an extinct almost species.”
Unlike Bangladesh, these countries have started mass production of rattan trees for its global demand. Rattan furniture is famous for its artistic value, lightweight, durability and comfort. Shahin Bepari a rattan artisan at Zakir's factory says, “All kinds of furniture can be made from rattan stems. Finely made rattan furniture can be used at least for 15 years without any repair and maintenance. It's very durable and absolutely resistant to splintering. Most useful feature of this furniture is that after a little repair they get a new life and can be used for another ten years in the least.”
Zakir's factory Shahjalal Cane Furniture Gallery employs 10 skilled rattan weavers. Heavy import duty and poor publicity have severely weakened the industry. Zakir says, “I am from Sylhet and it's our traditional business. Since we have become dependent on foreign supply of rattan stems, our business has started to crumble. Currently I can pay only 400-500 taka per day to each artisan. I know in an expensive city like Dhaka this is peanuts. But considering the state of my business, I can't afford to pay more than this.”
For several months of the year, most of the hapless weavers remain jobless. Rashed Mia, one of the weavers, says, “We are the last of the rattan weavers who know this art. Sometimes I think I have made a mistake by choosing to learn this craft. I don't want my children to follow my footsteps. It has no future.”
The sorry look of rattan industry is heartbreaking. If properly utilised, Bangladesh can earn a lot by exporting rattans. Zakir says “I make a little profit out of this business. I consider it an art and I am trying to promote it as much as possible. I have a Facebook page named after my factory “shahjalalcanefurni-turegallery”. But if the government doesn't come forward to produce rattan in Bangladesh, such pieces of furniture will no longer be made in Dhaka after 10 years. Perhaps my next business will be importing rattan furniture from foreign countries.”
The art of wood carving has also had a glorious part. Many of its remnants can be found in the museums of the city. But seeing the commercially designed furniture, it's easy to assume that the skill of wood carving has made its place in the museums. But after meeting Shafikul Islam Shabuj we discovered that a handful of artisans are still skilful enough to bring back the past glory.
During the partition of 1947 and the liberation war of 1971 hundreds of skilled artisans left Bangladesh. Many have taken up farming and other trades due to the collapse of Dhaka's aristocratic lineages. Shabuj says, “My ancestors used to design furniture for our local zamindars. But after the collapse of zamindari nobody valued the intricate patterns of wooden furniture. So my father left this profession and I started to supply timber to saw mills. After suffering much loss due to artificial and adulterated timber, I returned to my ancestral profession again.”
A few artisans like Shabuj moves from one furniture factory to another to look for jobs. But there is no security, very few factories value exquisite design that Shabuj can create. But still Shabuj boasts of his skill and dreams that someday his design will be prized by the art lovers like the long gone zamindars.
Besides agriculture, Bangladesh has a rich tradition of manufacturing handicrafts. Once upon a time each and every house was a production centre of different kinds of artefacts. Lured by its resources, thousands of foreign merchants like Tavernier travelled to Dhaka. It is quite unfortunate that we have lost this tradition and now we have to import the very artefacts that we used to produce some decades earlier. If the government takes step to promote these crumbling industries and encourage these heartbroken artisans, we will be able to revive our glorious tradition once again.
The writer can be contacted at shahnawaz.khan@thedailystar.net
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