“I don’t make much of the stuffs nowadays as I used to do in the past due to my age,” Prajapati reminisces. “Besides, I work meticulously on the wheel so that I take my own time in making the finest pots.”
According to him, the pots prepared his skillful hands hold a comparatively better monetary value and they attract much of the buyers’ attention. His wife, Chini Maya Prajapati, 70, is also busy laying out the freshly made earthen pots under the sun.
“We should dry these pots under the sun for one to two days, depending upon the intensity sunlight, color them and finally put them into a nearby furnace,” describes Chini Maya. “The pots would be ready for sale after four consecutive days of baking,” she adds.
The furnace looks somewhat like an ash-covered rectangular dam. “We put straw, husk and dried leaves into the furnace to produce heat,” she continues. The old couple has three sons but none of them are involved in this ancestral profession.
Many villages of Madhyapur Thimi Municipality of Bhaktapur have many households of potters. The villages of Kumanani, Bachunani, Tulanani, Nasanani, Chapacho and Pacho are inhabited by many Prajapati households, who earn their livelihood through pottery. The front yard and corridors of almost every house, built with mud and brick, can be found with heaps of earthen pots. Even the narrow bricked paths are not spared and a panoramic view of earthen pots, arranged in a symmetrical array, enhances the grandeur of these ancient villages.
More interestingly, these earthen pots are made in different varieties, pertaining to their shapes, sizes and purposes, which reflect the sophisticated nature of the pottery. “It is the same lump of mud and the wheel we use, but it is the movement of hands that determine the shape and size,” explains Indra Bahadur Prajapati, 62, and remains vigilant on his creation. “Out of these many varieties of pots, the flower vase tops the list of production.”
And there seems to have been a metamorphosis in the wheel technology over the years. “The previously used wooden wheel mounted on a pointed stone is now obsolete. Now, we use electric wheels,” says Indra Bahadur.
With Dashain and Tihar just around the corner, the Prajapatis work hard on their wheels to meet the market demand. “The demands are huge and the deadlines are depleting fast,” gasps Ganesh Bahadur Prajapati, 35, and stares at the furnace. Earlier, his younger brother lent a helping hand to him but, now, he has left this profession to become a shopkeeper. “This profession is helping me support a four-member family and I have no regrets,” rejoices Ganesh Bahadur.
At present, the demand is fuelled by the festivals and every nook and cranny of Thimi looks vividly earthen. “The sale is awesome but the profit margin is not satisfactory,” says Ganesh Bahadur. He explains how in the early days they used to carry their products from place to place for sale; but, nowadays, the buyers come to their place for a deal. The buyers are basically merchants from other parts of the country.
And the earlier days are far-fetched in history. When asked about the origins of this ancient wheel technology, the Prajapatis just say they inherited it from their forefathers. Today, some pursue the profession to safeguard the inheritance while others do it because they don’t have a better option for survival. But unlike in the past, the continuity of this profession is now limited only to a few members of the family and as such, this rich and one of the world’s ancient knowledge faces imminent threat.
“Only two of my sons are involved in this profession and the remaining two are out of this,” says Buddhi Kumar Prajapati, 75, in a rather timid voice. “This is a great art and it is almost impossible to be adept and carve a niche in this profession if one does not start early during childhood.” He says the upcoming generations of several other families are abandoning this vocation and the trend is pretty disturbing.
This noticeable reduction of enthusiasts in this domain may be largely attributed to the profit margin being meager despite several days of hard work. Also, the materials of furnace (straw and husk) have become costlier. The crux of the problem however is the unavailability of mud, which serves as the only raw material.
“The rampant sale of cultivable lands and mushrooming of buildings in the valley has made us very difficult to fetch the mud,” says Chakra Prajapati, 32. He compares the earlier situation of easy availability of mud to the present resource areas being confined to Duwakot, Bhaktapur and Harisiddhi in Lalitpur.
He fears that this ancestral occupation is on the verge of extinction. “I don’t think it will be passed on anymore. The plethora of problems has disheartened the upcoming generations and they are not willing to take up this work,” concludes Chakra Prajapati. “Maybe after a decade or so, you won’t see any wheels ‘at work’ in these villages.”
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