Ahmedabad: Coils of smoke rise from the mud chullahs outside the houses in Ahmedabad’s Vasna area along a narrow lane lined with clay drums filled with colour and cloth. From one such house, a rickety staircase leads to a 12 ftx25 ft room with bare brick walls, a tin roof, and a long table. This is the workshop of the Chitara family.
The Chitaras are one of the handfuls of families to practise the art of ‘Mata ni pachedi’, which literally translates to ‘Behind the mother goddess’. Believed to be over 3,000 years old, this style of painting on cloth explores the different forms of goddesses and their stories. The intricate process of painting the scenes itself is an act of reverence.
“This is a form of devotion and it takes days, at times months, to finish one painting,” says Kiran Chitara who received a National Award in 2006 for mastering this art.
It’s a tradition passed down from generation to generation over hundreds of years. Today, the younger members of the Chitara family are figuring out how to retain the art’s relevance without diluting its essence.
Children in the family start learning Mata ni pachedi at the age of 11. “Every goddess has a story, and just like their stories, the art is also passed on by our elders,” says 20-year-old Om Chitara, who is the youngest of the 50-member family.
Tradition, history and art
Traditionally made with only two colours, black and red, Mata ni pachedi—like most other art forms—has evolved over centuries. The Chitaras use more colours, which are almost always natural.
The learning process can take years. “It requires a lot of practice. It’s not just the drawing or colouring skills. The processes are very difficult and time-consuming,” says Om, who still has to achieve mastery in the art form.
Each cloth is an explosion of colourful and intricate tales centred around the dominating figure of the goddess. Every minute detail is recorded for posterity — from fish scales to the goddesses’ armour. The size of the painting varies from 4×4 metres to bigger and smaller. The paintings have a story around the entire village, and it normally includes a river, tree, the temple of the goddess, rituals that are performed and may also contain stories of kings.
Once a painting is finished, the ‘sacred cloth of the goddess’ is washed in running water at the Sabarmati River. It is then boiled “to ensure it remains in good condition for years”.
It is believed that the Vaghris, who were nomads, started painting them after they were banned from entering temples due to their ‘lower caste’ status. It was their way to worship and connect with the goddesses.
The ‘sacred cloth’ can also be easily hidden. “When our community was restricted from entering temples, these became our shrines. And now, it is through these paintings that we keep our tradition alive,” says Om Chitara, pointing out the intricate motifs and stories unfolding on each piece of painted cloth.
Today, Mata ni pachedi paintings can be found in many temples in Gujarat, which were preserved through generations.
At first glance, the art form seems to have a lot in common with the Kalamkari work of South India. But a closer look breaks the illusion of similarity.
“The thought behind Mata ni pachedi is the Goddess. It is more of a devotional form of art than the Kalamkari, which is beautiful and artistic and has positive motifs, and figures from mythology. But Mata ni pachedi is an experience rooted in so many years of craft and tradition,” says Ashwini Narayan, textile and craft connoisseur and sari stylist.
Also read: Kalbelia women won awards for folk dance but their quilt-making put food on table
The road ahead
The Chitara family has kept the tradition alive, but the big challenge is to keep the art relevant, educate people about it, and continue to depend on it to run their homes.
There has been help from the central and state governments, but according to the Chitaras, it is barely enough. “We have been getting some money with the awards, but it is not enough. The entire family has just one table to work on, which limits the number of orders,” says Kiran Chitara.
Ever since the pandemic eased, institutes and individuals have started calling the Chitaras to conduct workshops. “This is helping us a lot financially,” says Kiran.
Ganga Kakadia, founder of Art Village in Maharashtra’s Karjat, believes the biggest challenge for artists and their families is to ensure they get a steady income.
“We have been working closely with the Chitara family to ensure they not only get appreciated for their art but also get a platform to showcase it,” said Ganga. This year, Art Village held two workshops for children with the Chitara family. One in July, and the other just earlier this month.
The next generation of the Chitaras too is pulling all stops to diversify. Niral Chitara, who is in her last year of the fine arts course at C.N. Vidyalaya, is inspired by Mata ni pachedi and wants to add her own style to it. But staying relevant is not a unidimensional challenge.
“To ensure people of India and the world are aware of the efforts that go into this, a holistic approach needs to be taken with the help of educational institutes. There is a need to recognise artisans as teachers who can share immense knowledge of traditional crafts & bring them into the classrooms,” says Jyoti Shukla, who worked with the Chitara family for over a year as part of the Heritage Management course at Ahmedabad University.
With Diwali around the corner, the Chitaras are busy completing orders. Chandrakant shows his painting, which took over four months to complete. He is proud of his work and his family’s legacy. “My father told me to make art that no one makes,” he says.
(Edited by Humra Laeeq)
Source: The Print
