We talk for almost two hours—he in Hindi and I in Tamil; neither of us understands each other’s language. I start off with doubts if I will be able to absorb the soul of the conversation, even though we have an interpreter to help us. But the barrier of language crumbles with Bhajju Shyam’s earnest account of his story that began in the heart of India, 42 years ago.
I was born in the village of Pattangad in Dindori district of Madhya Pradesh. My parents are farmers, they grow rice and wheat. Our home is by a nadhi … the Narmada flows very close to where we live. We are Gond tribes, who, until some 20 years ago, lived in forests. But now, our forests have all been destroyed; what’s left are patches, in which some communities still exist. Most of our people are now farmers and labourers.
But change is good. We have a school 4 km from our village, there are good roads… Even though only one in 10 houses has a toilet, the situation is changing. Art is part of our lives. During weddings and Gond festivals, we paint our walls and floors red, brown, black and yellow using earth. We decorate them with images of trees, birds and animals. We worship trees, you see. Each tree has its own medicinal qualities and has to be respected. So the tree forms the basis of Gond art; it is the most important element. We tell stories through our paintings and all of them revolve around the trees, birds, and animals that formed our world when we lived in the forest.
Until I was 14 years old, I ran about the fields, helping my parents farm their lands. But my uncle Jangad Shyam changed my life. He took our art from the walls and floors to the canvas. It is said that he was the first man to have taken Gond art to the world. He travelled to Paris, London, and Japan on invitation from museums and art galleries to paint. Uncle taught me to draw.
This is how I started out as an artist. I now live with my wife and 17-year-old son Neeraj and 13-year-old daughter Ankita in Bhopal. It’s been many years since I moved to the city — it’s my art that took me there. My work has gone to France, London… my first book, The London Jungle Book , is about my journey to London to paint the walls of a restaurant. But despite all the changes in my life, I remain a villager at heart who once painted on the mud walls of his hut. This is perhaps why I paint what I always have been — elements of Nature.
I paint based on work that gets commissioned from people, hotels… there may be times when I work on just one piece a month and times when I don’t get even that. But books have taken me to a larger audience. People all over the world are able to see my work. In the book form, I’m able to tell stories through a series of paintings, whereas on canvas, I have to weave in a story in a single painting. But I’m not a book artist.
I’ve not become rich because of what I do. Life goes on; we have enough for food and my children go to English-medium schools. My parents visit us once in a while and we too go to our village by the Narmada when we have time. I don’t know how long I will go on this way. If orders dry up, I can always go back to my village. I have our land and a home there and I’ll become a farmer once again.
