Not too long ago, the Festival of Lights would literally light up the narrow bylanes of Kummari Veedhi, the colony of traditional potters. It was during this time of the year that the grind of potter’s wheel would resound through the meandering streets of the colony, where rows of lamps and heaps of clay would lay in bulk. In sharp contrast to those years, the dingy lanes of the colony paint a different picture today. Even as the markets glitter with festive spirit, the euphoria is markedly subdued at the potter’s colony.
A few rows of lamps scattered around the first two houses in the colony are the only traces of activity here. A little ahead, a pair of feeble hands works silently to make the humble clay lamps and flower pots from the potter’s wheel.
Once upon a time the colony had 40 families who practised pottery. Like elsewhere in the country, this 400-year-old art of pottery is dying a slow death in the city with just three aged potters of Kummari Veedhi who remain engaged in their traditional profession.
“Now it’s a hand-to-mouth existence for us with our earnings dropping drastically. The profession is no longer lucrative as the demand for pottery is diminishing,” rues 85-year-old Pardes. Too old to walk but spirited enough to sit through the day and churn the potter’s wheel, he struggles to keep the last traces of this fading profession of pottery alive.
“I grew up with the wheel and kiln. So, automatically I picked up the craft. This is the only thing I know best and I wish to continue it till my last breath,” says Pardes. He tried to educate his sons who were all school dropouts and now adopted other work in the changing scenario.
Ironically, today there are outsiders who set up stalls outside Kummari Veedhi every Diwali to sell readymade lamps sourced from rural areas of Yelamanchili, Anakapalle and Srikakulam. “We can’t do anything about it. We don’t have any kind of support from the government or any other social organisation for marketing our products or a dedicated place where the few traditional potters of this colony who toil hard to make the lamps can sell their products. Other vendors use the name of our colony to set up temporary stalls outside and make easy money. Nobody bothers to peep into the lanes to buy from us,” says Acha Rao, one of the three potters who still assiduously continue with their profession.
Nearing 70, Rao says his age and ill health coupled with the dwindling returns from pottery have made it difficult for him to carry out his work. A rare opportunity to conduct a pottery workshop in a school ahead of Diwali or a small bulk of wholesale order are the few occasions when that pep him up.
“Clay has become very costly. A lorry load costs us over ₹10,000 and the returns are too meagre,” the frail-looking potter says.
His neighbour Satyam, who used to practice pottery till last year, has completely stopped work due to his crippling health conditions. Sourcing clay and wood and to set up their kilns are their biggest problems now. “The residents nearby complain if we burn clay in the kiln because of the smoke that is emitted in the process,” the potters say. With much hardship, the three potters start the clay-burning work in the only kiln of the colony after midnight and finish it before the sunrise.
Incidentally, it is the potters themselves who discouraged the next generation from entering the profession. “My grandfather told us it is not a lucrative profession any more and did not allow me to learn pottery,” says Govind, who works in local shop. Like him, all the others of the next generation were left with no choice but to seek alternative work.
