As the breeze blows through the leaves on the campus, the bells tinkle in the stall. Each with its own voice, each with its distinct musical sound. The bells bring distant Kutch to Kalakshetra and beguile the buyer with their quaint charm. Abdul Sattar S. Luhar’s stall was part of the crafts fair held recently by Dastkari Haat in collaboration with the Kalakshetra Foundation.
These hand-made bells are traditionally used by herders in the semi- arid expanse in Gujarat to trace their cattle. So skilfully are they made and so varied and clear are their tones that they serve as a badge of identity for the cattle. They are a boon to the herders as their sound can be heard across miles. “We know from the sound of its bell which cow went this way and which that”, gestures Abdul happily.
The copper coated bells are a speciality of the villages of Zura, Nirona and Bhuj in Kutch, Gujarat. In Zura, 34 year old Sattar and his five brothers live together in Shanti Nagar on ‘the Airport Road.’ The family members fashion these bells in the courtyard of their house very much as their father and grandfather did. Sattar’s eyes shine when he talks abut his hereditary craft. It is passion that won for him the Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay award when he was a boy of 14.
“You have to listen closely to elicit the tone for each bell,” he says. The raw material - waste iron sheets - are procured from the local market in Bhuj. Cut into shape, they are soaked in water mixed with mud and in which copper and brass bits are sprinkled. “My wife does the work,” he adds. A mould is made from a mixture of cotton wool and wood paste. The bell is then fired in the kiln and hammered carefully to produce the required sound.
“We make 25 raw pieces a day. The price ranges from Rs. 30 for the small bells to Rs. 4,000 for the really big ones.”
What are the problems he faces? “The materials, the wood for the tongues of the bells, and for the firing, are from the jungle. So work stops when it rains,” he replies. “Only those from our village and the nearby ones can make these bells. Maybe others elsewhere can but they would have migrated from our village,” his pride is unmistakable. “Nowhere else do they have the expertise.”
Talking to Sattar has a feel-good quality for unlike many artisans in other fields, he is happy to adhere to this craft, “This is the business we know. And a craft we love,” he says.
Another interesting item in the stall is the musical instrument the craftsman has devised from seven bells of graded sizes, each emitting a different note. “Do remember to send me a copy of the article just as they did,” he gestures proudly to the newspaper cutting clipped on a board at the entrance to the stall. There is something appealing in the contrast between Sattar’s simplicity and his transparent joy at having his work captured in print. Most visitors who pass by the bells cannot resist ringing them or casting a longing look at the small ones that are strung together from a central beam. Sattar and his fellow craftsmen’s roughly hewn bells are not only a ‘must have’ for local herders with truant cattle. But also for those who wish to add a dash of rural chic and melody to their urban homes.
