The Tribune, Chandigarh, India

The Sikki grass genre of art
By Ramesh K. Dhiman

It was the fulfilment of a cherished dream to visit Meera Thakur and be in communion with her little world of creative art that she has painstakingly created in a rented, two-room dwelling unit in Ram Darbar (Chandigarh) where she lives with her husband, Dharmanand, and two sons, aged two and three years.

The sunlit living-cum-bedroom, spic and span, houses a dazzling range of her artistic and colourful creations that she has winsomely woven out of the dry strands of Sikki grass. With an indomitable spirit to explore new horizons, Meera has been persuing a passion, heart and soul, miles away from her homeland.

Hailing from Umri, a dusty, nondescript hamlet in Bihar, Meera made her maiden debut into the fascinating world of Sikki grass genre of art when she was barely four years old. By the time she turned 11, Meera had proved her mettle and was a name to reckon with among the Sikki grass artists of the region. A year later, this prolific little prodigy made an impressive entry into it when she participated in the annual handicrafts exhibition-cum-mela at Delhi’s Pragati Maidan. Meera’s nimble fingers weaved a web of magic as she created cute and colourful pieces of art out of Sikki grass, which evoked admiration from connoisseurs and countless lovers of art. For her laudable contribution to the promotion of this genre of rare art, she bagged the first prize at the exhibition. She was decorated with the coveted ‘Bal Shilpi Artist’ title by the Delhi Crafts Council in 1988. This carried a cash prize of Rs 3000. Besides, she received a stipend from the Cultural and Educational Training Centre, New Delhi, to persue her studies, which she availed of up to the intermediate level. Then the wedding bells rang for Meera. But the wedding vows failed to woo her into bidding adieu to her first love — taking the Sikki grass art form to a new high.

Meera’s family with a sound background in the Sikki grass genre of art was the guiding reason behind her adopting the specific art. She learnt her first lesson in this art form from her mother, Buchchi Devi, a great exponent of Sikki grass art, who runs a training centre at her native village.

“The Madhuvani School of Paintings has held greater fascination for me. I was greatly inspired by these rural folk themes. Madhuvani, where my in-laws have settled down for decades now, is very famous for Madhuvani, Mithila and Godha murals and paintings. Ironically, due to lack of exposure these remained confined to the four walls of the Madhuvani homes. I took a solemn vow to break the barriers of space and popularise them in the length and breadth of the country”, says Meera in a subdued tone.

With her eyes rivetted on the chartered mission, Meera has made Chandigarh her second home after her marriage. Treading on the chosen path to pursue a childhood passion, she has bidden adieu to her late-rising. Meera’s day now starts with the crow of the cock. The morning chores over, Meera settles down for work right at 7 in the morning.

Her focus on the mythological themes explicitly reflect her religious moorings. She has deftly woven an infinite range of mythological figures which include Ganesha, Lord Shiva, Ma Kali, Ma Saraswati, Radha-Krishna and Sita-Ram, which are the candid reflections of her religious sentiments. A great admirer of the wildlife, Meera has created alluring images of the wild neighbours and, at random, captured vivid pastoral scenes through her unbridled imagination. The fascinating faunal figures include those of the peacock, dove, pigeon, sparrow, parrot, parakeet and some other feathered friends in breathtaking bright shades is, indeed, a stamp of perfection. A quick “dekko” at the “doli” (palanquin) decked up with delectable floral motifs and a range of jewellery items and other ornamental pieces of art that Meera has created speak volumes for her indepth knowledge in the Sikki grass form of art. Among the tentalising conglomeration of collectors’ items that Meera has knitted out of the dry strands are earrings, bracelets, clips, bangles et al, which have attracted attention of the new crop of clientele. The other decoration pieces Meera has in her repertoire are hats, chapati-box, bangle-box, file-covers, vases and lot more — indeed a throbbing variety to chose from.

It was, indeed, a virtual, U-turn for Meera when she was chosen for the Bal Shilpi Artist award, from where she has never looked back. She took part in the handicrafts exhibition-cum-melas held at Surajkund in Haryana, Orissa, Guwahati, Hyderabad, Calcutta, Trimurti Bhavan and elsewhere. She recalls that at the Surajkund Handicrafts Mela, the then Governor of Haryana, Mr Dhanik Lal Mandal, had lauded her. Falling for her finely woven artistic pieces, he had handpicked an icon of Kali-Shiva. A figure of Lord Rama was presented to Mrs Sonia Gandhi at Trimurti Bhavan on her visit to the mela held there. She was greatly impressed by Meera’s unrivalled art.

Now settled in Chandigarh, Meera has founded a handicrafts training centre at her residence with the financial aid from the Ministry of Human Resources and Development, Department of Culture, Government of India. Under the innovative scheme, Meera has to train 10 women in a year belonging to the financially weaker sections of society. The guiding theme behind introducing this concept is to make them self-reliant and offer them ample opportunities to eke out a living. The training entails no expenditure. On the contrary, these women receive a stipend of Rs 250 per month. The grant runs for two years which ends in 2001. Meera has great expectations from the Chandigarh Administration.

On being asked if she has to face any hardships in the run up to accomplish her mission, in the face of responsibilities of hearth and home, she replies in the negative. “My husband, who is a great admirer of my art, extends all kind of moral support to me in helping me realise my dream. How can I have any hardships when he is around to offer me a protective patronage?”

When asked about her future plans, Meera says in a sibilant whisper, “As a frontline guard of this rare folk art, I am committed to render the best of my services to its enrichment till my last breath. I have some definite plans to set up a permanent training centre here and contribute my mite in ameliorating the lot of the aggrieved and oppressed women.”

In a class of its own
By ASC

PIYA BASANTI (Sony): Normally, listeners have only a black-or-white choice while picking up non-film music cassettes: either they can go in for the singers who can barely keep in tune or they can select hardcore classical singers. Those with proper classical training hardly dabble in popular music. This mould was broken by Shubha Mudgal recently. Now sarangi-maestro Ustad Sultan Khan and five-time National Award-winning singer Chitra go a step further. They sing a melange of melodies in a highly enjoyable fashion.

The voice of Chitra is suited for even light music but that of Ustad Sultan Khan is a different cup of tea altogether. You have to get used to it. Once you are, you are hooked. He has done a wonderful job in this unusual album living up to the promise he had displayed when he did Albela sajan aayo re … in the film “Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam”. His solos are mostly classical while the duets are devoted to folk numbers from Rajasthan..

The album opens with the title duet. Surmayi aankhen … is also of the same timber. In fact, the other two songs on side A, Koi pyar se … and Sham dhale … are also slow, sweet and hypnotic.

The duo change gears when you flip the cassette. Chale re kahar … is not only much faster but also more lively. Music reaches a crescendo in Sawan rut aayi …, only to slow down to a whisper in Dheemo re …(written by Ustad Sultan Khan himself). Things go back to a foot-tapping pace in Rangeelo rut ayee …, which brings the album to a close.

Sandesh Shandilya, the music composer, who had earlier done “Pyar Ke Geet”, can be proud of all his creations. He has harmonised the sarangi, saxophone and drums very well. Lyrics are by Khilesh Sharma, Rakesh Nirala, Prashant Vasl, Yash Sharma,

JAWANI (Venus): Another welcome addition to the long lineup of artistes cutting private albums is Chandana Dixit. She has a sweet voice though she is yet to acquire the necessary discipline. Once the child-like flatness that she exudes here is gotten over, she can have a bright future.

The influence of films is rather overpowering in Tabun’s music. Yet, several songs like Hum hum kare jawani meri …, Aankhon se meri …, Dil bole kya bole … and Inna inna … stand on their own.

Lyrics by Dev Kohli are passable.

GHAATH (Sony): The film is said to be offbeat. The music certainly is. The hero is Manoj Vajpayee; music bears striking similarity with his earlier “Satya”, what with a Mama … song dutifully thrown in. The album opens promisingly, with Hum bhi samjh rahe hain … (Alka Yagnik, Hariharan). But then, the intrinsic Anu Malik dhol-dhamaka takes the front seat and one has to sit through pedestrian fare like Hai teri yeh jawani … (Sapna Awasthi, Udit Narayan) and Jhumka chandi ka …(Alka Yagnik, Jaspinder Nirula, Udit Narayan, Sonu Nigam). Jo dar gaya woh mar gaya … and Kisi ne sach hi kaha hai … are not songs but only rendition of dialogues. “The colour of Ghaath” comprises the theme music. Lyrics are by Sameer.

A dreary life with DD
By Amita Malik

YES, together with everyone else I went through the pangs of trying to find the built-in aerial of my stand-by 14-inch colour set. I am also the proud possessor of my own dish, bought with considerable expense to keep up with my fellow columnists when our colony did not have a cable operator but disconnected when the cablewallah moved in. But I could not find anyone who would either fit a new aerial to my second set or fit the dish connections to it so that I could hang the cable operator and do my own thing. Then I remembered I had a gallant little 21-year-old black and white set which I had brought from Japan and which had often helped me out in Shimla because it could fit even into my little Maruti. It hummed and hawed for a bit and then suddenly sprang to life. And there was the Metro channel, as wobbly as it is by cable, masquerading as DD’s Sports Channel. And there was dear old Jasdev Singh, doing his usual excited crescendo whenever the hockey ball went anywhere near the enemy’s goal and then subsiding with a whimper when we messed up yet another penalty corner. Strange, but after all these years Jasdev cannot differentiate between 0-15 and 15-0 (which DD’s commentators frequently describe as 15 nil instead of 15-love because under the new regulations love is possibly a banned word). Anyway, as Kafelnikov slammed a winning ace, there would go Jasdev saying: “Bariha ace, shunya pandrah”.

However, what I looked for during this cable crisis was DD’s standing with viewers. Except for the maid in my servant’s quarter, and she was not smart enough to get cable at half rates like my last maid, no one seemed to be happy with Doordarshan. Study all the interviews with viewers in any newspaper, and they all said they were missing their favourite programmes (led, of course, by Kaun Banega Crorepati) on various satellite channels. Not one of them was heard saying, hang the cabled programmes, we have good old DD. In spite of Mr R.R. Shah’s impressive statistics, it has now been proved all over again, that those who have a choice, and are not DD’s captive terrestrial audience, still prefer the satellite channels. So when I got a chance to see something other than the Olympics on DD, I tried to see what else they had to offer.

First, a film based programme on the national channel where the usual fast-forward speaking girl anchor rolled her eyes and pouted for all her worth as she tried to get witty over the filmi programme she was presenting on Wednesday morning. She didn’t get very far because her wit only extended to saying “Boob-boob-Bollywood”, the stammer being the height of wit. I am afraid it left me cold. Well, there’s always Aaj Tak. I comforted myself. Well, the evening I watched, it seemed to be their day off. For instance my favourite reporter Dibang was missing. The field reports highlighted Aaj Tak’s rather aggressive and deliberate ploy of field reporters wearing crumpled and sweaty shirts to prove how desi and patriotic they are, unlike those satellite reporters who allegedly wear designer shirts (although Mrinal Pande in her book ascribed designer shirts to a famous anchor of Aaj Tak). Well, I am all for simple, elegant clothes for professionals, but not crumpled and sweaty.

I began by mentioning how like all the rest, I frantically tried to get my non-cable sets going to get Doordarshan, but strictly for the Olympics, because except for programmes like Surabhi, I find very little to excite me on DD. Like other captive audiences, I only switch to DD when they have got exclusive sports and other events by virtue of their clout with the government and ABU. And then they invariably go and mess it up, as they did this time. Perhaps ABU could tell us if DD is entitled to levy a fee on telecasting the Olympics when it is supposed to be doing public service broadcasting by virtue of its claims to be the national channel. According to some reports, it is supposed to provide the service free to viewers, especially as it is making money from intrusive advertisements as well. Would ABU please clarify? And, better still, Prasar Bharati itself so as to set the viewer’s doubts at rest?