CRAFTSMAN TO SALESMAN OF PLASTIC SHOES
t’s a weekday and Anwar Syed Khatri, 40, is helping a customer try on bright pink plastic sandals in his shoe shop in Dhamadka village.
“I feel miserable that Idiscontinued a 50-year family tradition of making Ajrakh cloth,” he says. “But my business wasn’t big. I never had enough money to dig more wells.”
It’s hard to survive as an Ajrakh craftsman in Dhamadka today, without your own water source.
For generations, Khatri’s family depended on the well on their plot. But 10 years ago the water levels began to fall, and what remained began to turn increasingly saline.
“The iron content in that water is so high now that it causes blotches when mixed with natural dyes, so we can’t use it,” Khatri says.
So the family began buying water from neighbours who had water of their own. But that was exorbitant.
Still reluctant to abandon the family business, Khatri switched to synthetic colours eight years ago. This process needs less water, but the cloth also fetches much less money. “It is sold mainly in the Indian market. Abroad, in the US, France and Canada, they want Ajrakh dyed in natural colours. This leaves little room for growth,” Khatri says.
As more Kutchhi Ajrakh businesses make the switch to synthetic dyes, the increased competition is also hitting profits. A year in, for instance, Khatri found that he was no longer earning enough to pay his neighbour for the extra water.
“I had two options, either relocate to find water or change my business. I chose the latter as my ancestors have lived here for more than 300 years,” he says.
So, seven years ago, he put his savings of Rs 70,000 into a small store. He now sources goods from Mumbai and Ahmedabad and sells to clients in Dhamadka. “With the rising costs, we had been living hand to mouth. Now, I make enough to give my family a good life,” he says.
He might be the last generation to live in Dhamadka, though. His son moved to Pune two months ago, to open a store selling generic Kutchhi handicrafts.