Pratul Bordoloi meticulously chisels out reddish-maroon lac, set with semi-precious stones, at his desk. He lives and works in Tarajan, Sonarigaon in Assam’s Jorhat city. It’s a nondescript locality except for its rich legacy as the hub of traditional handcrafted jewellery or Axomiya gohona . From a distance, one can hear the sounds of Bordoloi’s handmade naranis, delicate tools, each serving a unique purpose in jewellery-making.
His xaal or workshop is situated 3-4 km from Baruah Chariali, a crowded market town where the raw materials for the jewellery are bought and sold. Since the 1990s, Bordoloi has taught his 300-year-old skill to more than 35 craftsmen. His 90-year-old guru Lakhsminath Bordoloi did a fine job of training almost the entire village and is the oldest teacher of the craft.
Betel with gold leaf
The Bordoloi people were goldsmiths under the Ahom rulers — they were assigned the task of making jewellery for the queens as well as gold coins for the realm. Trade with Burma made it possible to procure stones like ruby ( dalim bakhor , so called because of its resemblance to pomegranate seeds) and emerald ( panna ).
Unlike jewellers in Bengal, Assamese jewellers use lah (lac) to fill the frame, paat-xun (gold leaf) to embed stones and a unique stone, called kosoti khil , to test the purity of gold. Traditional Assamese jewellery doesn’t gleam; it gets slightly dull with time and that, precisely, is its beauty.
The designs have magnificent names, such as Loka-paro (twin pigeons placed side to side), Xensorai (the hawk), Bena (moon-shape with alligator ends) and Gejera (boat-shape). Today, these designs are also made on silver and other alloys and then gold-plated in parts of Lower Assam like Barpeta and Rontholi (in Nagaon tehsil). This shift has attracted many new entrepreneurs and led to a tussle over who owns the cultural capital of handcrafted jewellery. Today, enamel ( mina ) and other stones are traded by a generation of Khans from Rajasthan, who came into this industry some decades ago and speak fluent Assamese.
F.C. Henniker’s book The Gold and Silver Wares of Assam (1905) notes that in colonial times, jewellers from Jorhat resided in present-day Sibsagar district and belonged to the ‘sunar’ caste. They worked on pure gold and did some enamelling too, and the business functioned as a thriving native industry. “Gold was a part of our day-to-day lives,” says Pratul Bordoloi. So much so that on Sunday mornings, their koka-deuta or ancestors would crush bits of gold leaf ( paat-xun ) with betel nut for eating. “They believed in the nutritive value of gold and other minerals,” explains Pratul.
Glittering imitations
The jeweller has been working to preserve traditional motifs and the stories associated with them. People tend to remake ancestral gold jewellery in modern styles. Because of this tendency, the specimens worn by Ahom rulers are hard to get these days. Of course, some have been kept in museums and some locked up to be worn at festivals and weddings, but they are no longer a part of daily life.
Axomiya gohona , naturally, faces tremendous competition in today’s market, but there have been some small signs of revival in the last 15 years. Customers are looking for traditional jatiya or regional handcrafted jewellery again. The government has pitched in with loan schemes, but much more is needed.
I examine Pratul Bordoloi’s century-old wooden tool box as he takes out a few charcoal embers from the foundry to finish some pieces of jewellery. The laah-mari or wooden-blocks upon which stones are studded lie near him. I think of how this image — the labour behind the scenes — is seldom seen when we buy an earring or bangle from a shop or website. It will take a lot to bring the artisan back to the forefront.
The author writes on forgotten people, hidden gems and lost causes. Her project on Assamese jewellery has been funded by India Foundation for the Arts, Bengaluru.