A rundown warehouse stands in the middle of a ground obscured by unruly grass. Inside, unused metal charkhas have formed giant rusty mountains. The hall, which has no ceiling fan, is uncomfortably warm in the afternoon. Two women sit spinning on their charkhas , enveloped in a cloud of cotton wisps, chatting all the while.
At Athani, near Nanthiattukunnam in North Paravur, a khadi spinning unit functions with just two workers. It was once filled with women who spun khadi for a living. “Many of them have left this job. The money isn’t enough,” says Susheela, 60, who has been spinning for over 30 years at the unit. Even after the government introduced minimum wages for khadi workers complete with incentives and welfare schemes, workers have moved away.
Tough job
“It is a tough job. Sometimes, my arm aches. But this is the only job I know,” says Susheela. She claims to make about Rs. 1,050 for 300 kazhi (unit of yarn). Some spinners have shifted the charkhas to their homes, points out Ramani, Susheela’s lone colleague.
Once a khadi hotspot, Nanthiattukunnam is one of the earliest centres in Kerala to adopt Gandhiji’s ideals of rural self-employment and self reliance.
The Gandhi Smaraka Grama Seva Kendram here was founded in 1956 by U.N. Dhebar, president of the Indian National Congress and inaugurated by Morarji Desai in 1957. The centre involved the local communities in several khadi village industries.
When times changed, the production units slowly began losing their sheen. As weavers and spinners aged, few young people came forward for the job. “It is labour-intensive and not as well paying as cement and paint jobs,” says Binesh P.K., principal of the Khadi Gramodyog Vidyalaya managed by the Seva Kendram, which offers training in a number of job-oriented courses to rural youth.
Weaving has become the least popular, he says. “There was a time when we could not accommodate all students, now we hardly have 50 students for all the disciplines put together.” The new batch for weaving has received just nine students this time despite a monthly stipend of Rs. 800 and accommodation facilities.
The lure of air-conditioned shops is irresistible. “Young girls get jobs as sales girls. It pays better and there is little physical labour,” says Ratnamma, a teacher at the Vidyalaya for 30 years. She recalls her youth when youngsters held khadi weaving in high esteem. “There were so many of us and we loved our job. We didn’t mind that there was no ceiling fan,” she adds.
New-age courses
The Vidyalaya offers a few short-term, new-age courses, which still attracts students. Eye-lens making and fitting, advanced-beautician programmes and computer hardware training have takers despite fees that go up to Rs. 5,000.
Modernisation has not touched the Seva Kendram building, a sprawling, ageing structure in a three-and-a half acre plot. The staff, all dressed in starched khadi, are warm and eager to help. “Earlier, the students too would wear khadi. Not anymore,” says Sumangala, an instructor who has been at the Vidyalaya for 28 years. “It is not just the craft one learns here, but a certain culture, a way of life. A simple, self-sufficient lifestyle,” Sumangala adds.
Many of the classrooms are not functioning, like the paper-conversion unit, which gave training in making files. “We used to get huge orders from government offices. After computers took over, there is no demand for them”, says Sumangala.
The mattress-making unit, apparently, is still a hit. The workshop is crammed with huge white sacks of cotton, which comes from Tamil Nadu. “We use 100 per cent authentic cotton,” says Anil Kumar, who fills the mattresses tailored by his wife Umavathi, who is his only companion at the unit. Anil has covered his nose with a piece of cloth. “Inhaling cotton can cause breathing difficulty. But I have not had a problem so far,” he says.
Susheela has a solution for this professional hazard. She says that eating jaggery and banana will help tackle it.
Until a few years ago, every October 2, the Seva Kendram would conduct cleanliness drives and organise programmes to felicitate senior weavers and spinners. The practice has now stopped. “I hardly come to know when it is Gandhi Jayanti. Ramani and I, may clean up the courtyard this time,” Susheela says.
Back in the city, it is a different story. Khadi outlets are preparing for Gandhi Jayanti sales from October 1 to 17, with a rebate of 30 per cent on cloth, ready mades and products, which have expanded to cover cosmetics, toiletry, health drinks and perfume.
Khadi boasts sky-rocketing sales figures. The turnover in Ernakulam district for Onam was close to Rs. 16 crore. The Khadi Gramodyog Bhavan on MG Road has recorded Rs. 5 crore sales in 2011-12.
Designs have improved and demand has soared, says the manager. The buyers include bank employees, school teachers and even the youth. The interest in silks could be because of an instalment scheme for government employees to buy khadi silk, which can cost up to Rs. 7,000 a sari, says the manager. Most of the khadi silks sold in Kerala, however, are sourced from outside the State, where labour is not as hard to find.
But for the artisans working behind the scenes, khadi is not just a job, it is an integral part of their identity.
