I puffed on my beedi and sat down with a cup of tea. The wind gushed past me. Thunder roared in the background. The sun was hidden behind the black clouds. The clouds moved slowly, thick and dark. They were ready to burst, and we were ready to welcome the rain. It was time for the monsoon.
I had just finished my day's work. Pottery was what I did. It was an art passed down from my grandfather to my father and then to my brothers and I, and now on to my children. Playing as child meant playing with clay. As years went by play evolved into work. And my journey into being a potter had mushroomed.
I was fascinated with many things around me and I continue to be. I laugh now as I think of all the things I have done. I worked on stages as an electrician, I worked as a driver and worked on the fields too, amongst other things. I did these not because I had to. I was curious, wanted to see what it was like. I saw people around me, so I thought why not try.
I had my happiest five years in life working on the fields. The first one year although difficult was the most enjoyable. The following years set an easy pace and it is the time of my life that I will never forget.
I never left pottery. I had my short stints with various things, pottery ran alongside. How could I stop working on the wheel? It is my art.
I work on pottery everyday. I am satisfied when the shape comes out well. It is disappointing to go askew.
I want to see pottery rise. I want it to get the same recognition as other crafts. Sadly, over the years pottery began lagging behind. It was left out. It is now diminishing with the years.
There is hope however. Ceramics and glazing are helping the art on its journey. What it needs is something remarkable to hit the market that sends people flocking to buy. I won't let pottery die, even if its slow, I will build it and join the pieces together until it rises.
