Bengaluru: Navalgund in Kannada means the hill of peacocks and the serenades of these iridescent fowls resonate the sprawling agricultural fields that surround this small town located some 35 kilometres east of Hubballi.
But, this small panchayat town’s claim to fame is not its flock of peacocks but the equally resplendent carpets that have come to be known as Navalgund Durries or Jamkhan.
Handwoven only by the women folk of the weaver community of Navalgund, the Jamkhans are woven on vertical looms and come mostly in rectangular shapes. As common with most carpet designs, these cotton rugs come usually in floral motifs, with an exception of one non-floral pattern - the peacock.
Interestingly, rather than embellishing the floors, most people use these carpets to adorn their walls, which highlights their artistic value!
This unique handcrafted product has received a Geographical Indication tag from the government, which means no other carpet can use its name or borrow its style.
However, this ancient craft with a history of more than 400 years is facing a sharp decline, despite a government initiative to provide the artisans with a central platform and training for new members of the community.
Notwithstanding the efforts, the craft has almost vanished from the famous Jamkhan Gully of Navalgund, which was once home to dozens of carpet weavers.
The locality now has only one old couple holding fort, safeguarding their unique ancestral weaving tradition against all odds.
Chequered, intricate and fascinating, Mumtaz and Shawkat Ali Shaikh have woven their lives together, just like rich tapestry of carpets they have created over the last four decades.
“I came to this house as a young bride. Hailing from a small village, I was a teenager with very little aspirations. I had no idea about any art or craft. Growing up, I had never seen a loom, let alone working on it,” said Mumtaz Shaikh, reflecting on the beginnings of her weaving journey.
As unique as it is, being South India’s only carpet weaving heritage, the Jamkhan (carpet weaving) community in Navalgund followed a unique tradition to ensure the protection and secrecy of their craft.
According to this tradition, neither the sons nor the daughters of the house are trained in the making of the carpet, only the daughters-in-law got the training to carry forward the heritage.
“Following this practice, I learnt the craft from my mother-in-law and eventually took over from her as the chief artisan of the family. It’s been almost 40 years now. All that I knew before marriage was that I was going into a family of artisans. Little did I realise that a few years down the line I would master this ancient craft,” adds the 55-year-old grandmother, walking down the memory lane.
When Mumtaz arrived in Jamkhan Gully around four decades back, the locality was still a thriving hub of carpet weavers, but now the area cuts a desolate picture.
“When I arrived here more than 30 families were practising this craft. Jamkhan was unique to this community. Then, a few years back, a government agency set up a workshop in the town and trained people from outside our community. Somebody from our own community gave away all the craft secrets and our community tradition was broken,” claims Mumtaz, highlighting one of the main reasons of the tradition’s decline.
As the state workshop flourished, the business in the Jamkhan Gully tapered off, with more and more artisans opting to work for the government workshop, even as many wound up their age old practice.
“Once the new unit started running, our hold on the craft weakened and the business dried up. One by one the weavers dismantled the looms and abandoned the heritage, because with the workshop siphoning off bulk of the work, our weavers couldn’t survive on the left over. Some of them tried working for the agency, but most of them couldn’t continue,” said Shawkat Ali Shaikh, Mumtaz’s 69-year-old husband, who takes care of the business side of the work and assists her in peripheral tasks.
Now, the Shaikhs are the only family still running a magga (loom) at home.
However, with the age catching up quickly with the old couple and nobody in the family to carry forward the tradition, the couple is not sure for how long they can go on.
“I am growing old now, I can’t work long hours. Just like this old loom, my knees and elbows are creaking. But, there is nobody else to take over. My daughters-in-law are not interested in this work and my daughters have gone away, nurturing their own homes. How I wish I had trained my daughters, they would have carried forward our tradition,” rues Mumtaz.
It is obvious that without the ancestral passion to keep the flame of tradition burning, this richly woven heritage will soon unravel and disintegrate forever.
-- Shafaat Shahbandari is a Bengaluru based independent journalist. He is the founder of Thousand Shades of India, an alternative media platform that celebrates the diversity of India.
