View clip in Quicktime Player
Meena Chitrakar
Paintings: Chandi Mangal, Fish’s wedding, Wedding of the Fish, Chandi Mangal
Artist: Meena Chitrakar
My name is Meena, and I was born in Diamond Harbor, in North Parganas. When I was quite young, I went to Calcutta to work as a maid in an effort to help provide food for my family. I returned to my parental home eventually, and that left my father as the sole gainfully employed member of our home. Our living situation was kind of uncertain: some days we’d have two meals, and some days we’d starve. After my husband and I got married, we moved to Naya. I was about 16 years old, and he was 55; I was his second wife. My husband’s sister used to be in charge of our family – we all lived together. She was one of the main breadwinners, but after her death, I had to take up the production and sale of clay dolls to create income for our family. My life was so hard! I’d work in the fields with my husband and try to sell my crafts. My husband used to work as a house builder’s assistant, too. On days when he didn’t have work, he’d roam around the villages begging. We struggled so much to bring up our five children. I went to work in Babu’s house in Calcutta with two of my sons, and I left another of our sons with my husband. Even then, it was difficult work fulfilling my duties and caring for two children in such a big city. I worked for some time, but because I was unable to look after them all the time, I gave up my job and returned to Naya. Here, I ran a business buying powder, ribbons, lac dye, and vermilion on credit from local shops and selling them. That’s how I managed to feed my family.
My sons grew up and became successful. My second son, Manu, started his own business that involved a lot of commuting between here and Calcutta. I trained another son, Anwar, to be a tailor. When both of them started to earn enough to be comfortable, they told me to stop making clay dolls. I was relieved! Both of them managed to run the family while I went around selling cosmetics in the village. My worst days ended as soon as my children had matured enough to make a living for themselves. Now, my sons are painting scrolls, going out to surrounding villages, and earning money to support all of us. They work year-round, and no one in our family is idle. I still work, but only when I feel like it. I paint some for the women’s committee here in Naya to earn a bit of extra money for our family. I don’t sing too well, but I have traveled with the women of our village to Delhi, and my sons and I have gone to Banipur and Sriniketan. My husband never objected to my travels—I think that the presence of the committee, in his mind, legitimized my efforts.
I’ve learned to sing a bit, but to be honest I am scared to do it! I’ve never really done it in public, because wherever I go, I just sell scrolls. Nobody ever asks me to sing. Anwar tells me to practice singing, but my other sons discourage me from doing it – they know that I sound terrible! They say that I might get better and be less scared about performing if I practice more, but I’m not sure. People tell me that my children can sing so well, and they wonder why I can’t! “How can you say that you can’t?” they ask. “I’m sure that you can.” I get nervous, that I’ll forget the lines or make mistakes in the middle of things. Luckily, I can paint really well! I’m a perfectionist – there’s no reason why the scrolls that I make should be flawed in any way. I never paint unless I’m wearing glasses. My work takes patience and care, and I have a lot of both. I paint so that people can praise it when they look at it. I get a sense of satisfaction and validation when I see that my work is appreciated by others. I don’t believe in shoddy work, regardless of people’s opinions, though. Whatever I do, I’ll do it perfectly. I like painting gods and goddesses, specifically Durga and Kali. I also like the subjects of my daughter’s scrolls but I haven’t been able to harness her style. And I’ll never be able to paint the ones my son Anwar does. But I’m trying!