Woven Into Place

Carpet weaving, apart from sustaining them, has also empowered Darjeeling’s women

TERESA REHMAN



Tears roll down her cheeks as she recalls the turbulence during the Gorkhaland agitation of 1980s in Darjeeling in West Bengal. As Shannu Sherpa, 36, gives finishing touches to the new carpet she has woven, she narrates how her uncle and most of the male members fled to the jungles fearing atrocities by the security forces. “There were bandhs for as many as 40 days. The whole economy which had thrived on tourism collapsed and there was no income for many days. Moreover, houses were raided and there were atrocities on women by the security forces,” she says.

It was during these trying moments that she found succour in carpet-making after she landed in Hayden Hall, an NGO in Darjeeling town. Then it was quite an uphill task for her to traverse the distance of nearly an hour from her village Singmari to reach the place. She says, “But it was worth it. I have brought up my children with these earnings after my husband’s death. I am not always able to fulfill their demands but I am happy that at least I can lead a respectable life here.” She has gained expertise in weaving and finishing carpets and her role has recently been elevated to that of a demonstrator in the showroom. She adds, “Everyone calls me madam now. I feel important.”

Oblivious of the sloganeering and simmering tension for the ‘second phase of the Gorkhaland agitation’, Shannu and her companions carry on with their task they have made their mark in – carpet making. Kamala Limbu’s face lights up as her six-year-old daughter Bibika comes rushing in dressed in her red uniform. Bibika’s school is over and she will play around in the day-care centre at the hall till her mother finishes her work. Kamala walks for half an hour from Singmari to reach her workplace, which has literally been a cocoon for her and her daughter after her husband’s death. She had even worked as a daily-wage labourer and washed dishes at people’s home for sometime. “This is more easier and respectable for me,” the 36-year-old says.

In Darjeeling, women from the low-income group, mostly Nepalese have no other means of livelihood other than working as maids or doing similar petty jobs. Radha Karky, administrator of Hayden Hall says, “In Darjeeling, it’s always the women who take the lead role in any agitation, be it the Gorkhaland agitation of the 80s or the resurgence of the movement now. You will see it’s the women who are in the forefront. But after all the sloganeering they don’t always get their due.”

The carpet makers in Hayden hall have adopted the Tibetan style of weaving brought in by the Tibetan refugees in the sixties. “The idea behind introducing this alternate way of earning livelihood is because employment opportunities are very few here and there is tremendous pressure on these women. Here, they at least pick up a skill. It’s like being literate, gaining confidence. For illiterate women, coming up with beautiful hand-woven carpet is psychologically uplifting. These women would otherwise be going home to clean dishes. Even their meager wages are cut if they fall sick,” adds Karky. All these women are registered with government medical care and life insurance, a special scheme for handloom weavers last year.

“We have our own medical scheme, awareness programmes to tell them about child care and HIV-AIDS. We have eight health workers who do home visits. We even have a day-care centre for these women for the whole day. In return they give us one day’s free labour per month,” explains Karky. They also register under the Nari Sewa Sangathan in the centre which has an additional medical fund. There are different self help groups with a revolving fund for them.

Carpet making is not a viable option if done independently but Karky says, “Its viable in Hayden Hall. We ensure that a weaver makes at least Rs 1500 per month. While working at Hayden Hall, women are also enrolled in a health program that covers basic medical expenses, a lunch schemes, and their children benefit from the many children's schemes, from day-care and health care to after-school tutoring to help with public or private school fees.” These women make carpets, which are then marketed by Hayden Hall in the two stores located in Darjeeling. These stores are also have an overseas shipping licence. Hayden Hall's carpet weavers spend roughly a month on a three-by-six-foot carpet.

Some of the carpet makers trained at Hayden hall also work in the carpet factories run by private individuals while some pitch in as trainers in government’s training programmes. “But we are coordinating with the government to help them set up their own enterprises as its not always good to provide subsidies,” says Karky.

And many young girls like Mala Devan, who have never seen a carpet in their lifetime continue to throng Hayden hall to learn the craft. Mala for instance, walks for two hours up and down everyday from a place called Singtam. Mala’s mother is a plucks tea leaves for a living and her father helps a mason. After dropped out of school when she reached class eight, she has been jobless. She is keen on picking up the craft. “I have plans for the future. I will give my first salary to my mother.”

And there some like Renu Tamang who has declined offers to work for higher wages. Because, she says, Hayden Hall was with her in her time of need. She had five children and her family was very poor. She heard that Hayden hall could help by providing for her children’s education and giving them enough food to survive. Renu began weaving and carpets. All her five children benefited from their educational programmes. One of her daughter is married, and her eldest son now works a driver, augmenting the family income. She now lives in a house built on land bought with help from Hayden Hall. She received a zero interest loan and now pays a low, monthly mortgage.

And as it’s time to wind up for the day, their instructor Raju Ghising does a round checking the quality of their day's work. Ghising, who had learnt this art of making carpets using Tibetan knots in Nepal landed here in 1980 and has been here ever since. Affectionately called “dazu’ or elder brother, Ghising says, “I enjoy working here. Earlier, I used to work for businessmen. Here, I have the opportunity to serve and have some satisfaction in return.” Often, he bumps into his trainees on the streets. They gratefully remind him that he had taught them and are now self-sufficient. “I don’t want to go anywhere. This is my home now,” he says.