On a surprisingly overcast day, 73-year-old R. Rajamma sat hunched lower than usual while plaiting narrow strands of bamboo into the hand fans she was famous for. She and a few others at the Morakara Theru in Thiruvanaikovil are among the only ones in the area who know how to weave bamboo, a craft that was once practised by everyone in their community.
Hidden behind a row of small shops selling bamboo products on Gandhi Road are narrow lanes that were once exclusively occupied by people from the Kavara Naidu community. “Even 20 to 25 years back there were at least 500 bamboo-weaving families here. But now we have to literally search for our own people,” says V. Amudha, Rajamma's daughter-in-law. The last of their bamboo weavers, aged 45 to 78 years, remember a time when bamboo on river banks was theirs to take and there was a steady demand for their work.
Migrants who settled down at the foothills of the Kolli Malai centuries ago, the Kavara Naidus began weaving baskets, plates, poo kodalais and gopala pettis (flower/ garland holders), fans, thattis (screens), mats, steaming plates, puttu kozhais (canisters), ladders and morams from the bamboo that grew in abundance in there. Over time they migrated to other places in the state and settled down in small colonies that sold bamboo products. The colony at Thiruvanaikovil is around 100 years old, according to the residents.
The skill was passed down through the generations, but not any more, according to 70-year-old Papathiammal, who learnt to weave from her mother. “Our own children don't know how to weave bamboo. They have moved on to other more remunerative jobs,” she says. “Those who are still weaving are either too poor or too old to go out and find jobs.”
Besides the dwindling interest, the dearth of cheap and easily available bamboo has also pushed many out of this profession. “We pay Rs. 150 to 200 for a single bamboo,” says 63-year-old K. Kasturi, who remembers times when they could buy enough bamboo to make 10 baskets for just 35 rupees.
A few years ago, students from the Agricultural College in Inamkulathur provided the community with a machine that could shred bamboo. “They taught us how to use that machine, but it didn't work out for us,” says Amudha. The bamboo shreds from the machine were apparently too wide and thick to be plaited into anything. “Our products can only be made by human hands, right from the shredding to the plaiting and finishing.”
M. Ramakrishnan, who opened the first shop on that line 57 years ago, says their trade is in the evening of its life. “In another 25 years, there will be no one who can weave bamboo,” he says, “and people would probably be surprised that bamboo could be woven at all.”
Pointing out the various parts of a moram, like the kommu (the point where the weaving begins) and the karai (the protective skirting), he says not everyone knows how to make every bamboo product. “While I cannot shred bamboo using the sickle and can actually make only basic plaits, my wife (Rajamma) knows much more,” he says. There are others who can only weave baskets or morams, or poo kodalais or screens.
Stating that bamboo was never too profitable, he says people refused to pay much for their products because they felt the craftsmen had invested nothing in the bamboo earlier. “They could not see it as a handicraft that required manual labour,” he says, “and although the situation has improved now, the money we make cannot sustain our families today.”
A few years back, Ramakrishnan began selling articles made of palm leaves, sourced from Ramanathapuram, to supplement their income.
Bamboo continues to be used on all auspicious occasions by the public as well as in temples because it is traditionally considered to be pure. A bamboo enclosure is also cool, airy and durable.
The bamboo weavers here are still approached during special occasions by the Kancheepuram Varadaraja Perumal Kovil, Thayumanavar Kovil (Malaikottai), Srirangam, Thiruvanaikovil and other temples.
