https://csim.in/conversations/Conversations-May2012.pdf

Winding through the narrow lanes at Kosapet, a shantytown in central Chennai, we reach the cluster of 20 families which are engaged in making gods and other figurines out of clay. These families belong to the Kuyavar community and had been engaged in pottery for over three generations. 

As the city expanded, these families found it difficult to continue their occupation due to lack of space. They shifted their occupation from pottery to making of clay dolls. 

Jagadeesh, our NGO contact, led us to Jayanthi’s home. A 100-square feet space, which is supposed to have been the drawing room, doubles as a cottage industry. The room was piled with hundreds of clay gods of different sizes and colours. The strong odor of paint did not seem to bother the women. Jayanthi, 33, was seated in the middle of the room, painting one of the idols of Krishna, while Koushalya and Indira were applying the base paint for the rest. 

“I am an ordinary person. What is it that you want me to say?” Jayanthi replied when I asked her to tell me her story. 

Jayanthi paused for a while, delegated work to her employees, and started the conversation. I stood gingerly in a corner of the room, careful not to step on any of the gods while my friend AK got busy with his camera. 

“I am engaged in doll-making since the age of five. My father Perumal was managing this unit and I used to mould about 300 dolls a day for which I was paid five rupees. I spent two to three hours a day and worked even on Sunday,” she said. 

“As I was allowed to spend the money that I earned on chocolates and ice cream, I was more than willing to work here. In those days, five rupees a day was quite a substantial amount to spend on snacks though.” 

Speaking of her education, she said, “I studied up to the eighth standard in a corporation school. As my father could not afford to educate me further, I started to work full-time. Now, I manage this doll- making unit as my father has grown old. He is 62.” 

For a moment I got distracted when I saw a coconut shell half-filled with gold paint. I looked around the room and noticed that there were many such shells filled with different colors. Sensing my curiosity to know how these dolls were made, Jayanthi explained: “Making these idols is a cumbersome process. The last two days I was working at another site where we store the clay. My feet ache now. A lorry load of clay costs Rs 2000. We do not have any machines to soften the clay, so we need to keep stamping on it until it turns soft. The neighbours object to the fumes emitted while firing the clay, so we choose a different site to work on this.” 

“The dolls are then brought home. We apply patti to adjust any defects in the figurine, and then paint layer after layer. While my employees work on the base coat, I draw the features and add glitter for each of the idols,” she said. 

Jayanthi has two children Latha, 14, and Kumar, 12, who study in a private school. “I want to educate them as much as I can. My daughter wants to become a computer engineer. I should get her a computer when she goes to the tenth standard,” she sighed.

Hundreds of Krishna and Ganesha idols were lined up to get dried. Jayanthi began giving finishing touches to a baby Krishna. “A mould costs between Rs 500 to Rs 10,000. The Krishna mould costs Rs 500 and I can make only 1,000 dolls from one mould. The wholesale dealers procure about 15,000 to 20,000 idols from us every year at a price of Rs 20 per piece and sell it for Rs 30. These idols have a lot of demand during the navarathiri season. It is only during the month of September and October that we have sales happening. Until then, we stock these idols in our own homes.” 

I asked how she managed her monthly family expenses until then. 

“I borrow around 25,000 rupees a month from private moneylenders on a five percent interest. I need this money to manage my family as well as to meet the doll-making unit expenses. When I need to pay my children’s school fees or when I need to meet a medical expense, I borrow an extra 10,000 rupees,” Jayanthi explained.  

I asked her how she earned from this doll-making. 

“I earn an annual income of around five lakh rupees, most of which is used to repay the loan. The moneylender offers me a fresh loan only after I have cleared my dues. Therefore, I have hardly any money left to invest for my next season. This cycle continues.”

Perumal, her father, joined our conversation and said, “The cost of paint has increased three times in the last four years due to the rise in diesel price. Likewise, the cost of other products has also increased.” 

Jayanthi is a leader of a self-help group (SHG) that offers a micro credit of Rs 3,750 to each member. “The micro credit offered by the SHG would hardly fetch me 15 tins of paint, which is a drop in the ocean of expenses that I have,” she said. “Banks do not offer loans either, so I have to depend on private moneylenders. I had borrowed 6 lakh rupees three years ago to construct this home, and am yet to repay it,” she complained. 

“Then, why do you want to work in this trade if you can’t earn enough?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know any other trade. If I work in an export company, I would earn only around Rs 2,000 to Rs 3,000. This would not suffice to maintain my family. The solace I have is that I can work from home, my children are studying, and we have enough food to eat,” she concluded. 

As the evening neared, we went around the neighbourhood to interact with the other doll-makers, dodging the many kittens and stray dogs that lay scattered in the narrow byways. 

I was led to the home of Kumar and Lakshmi. The couple spoke casually about their lives as doll-makers and when I asked if working together and staying under one roof all the time led to any misunderstanding, Kumar remarked: “Misunderstanding happens only when the husband is away from the wife and a third person barges into our lives. We don’t allow this to happen and so we are very happy.” 

I continued visiting more houses in the vicinity. While most of them were winding up their day’s work, I found a senior couple still working. Govindasamy, 66, was moulding dolls along with his wife Meena, 55. 

“We are paid three rupees for each doll that is moulded. The mould and clay is provided by our owner. On an average we are able to earn Rs 150 a day and this is enough to meet our living expenses,” said Meena. “I used to sell vegetables, but after getting all my three daughters married, I joined my husband in moulding dolls. We live with one of our daughters and we don’t want to be a burden on her,”

We bid adieu to the couple and walked towards our car. On the way, we saw an old house where women were busy making bigger gods in bright purple and yellow. Outside their home, a man and his wife were stamping on clay on the roadside. Life was just about beginning for the next set of dolls which some day would sit pretty in homes across the city.