Far away from their barren sandy homeland, a group of wandering Gadiya Lohars (Blacksmiths) are surviving in this fierce desert carrying on with their traditional craft of making iron tools, utensils, and household items. Having given up their traditional wooden carts and the cattle, this hardy nomadic tribe has also abandoned their traditional costume and intricately carved silver jewellery, worn by both women and men. Near the archaeological site of Rangmahal, close to the Kalibangan Indus valley excavations, we spotted three families beating the hot metal in an unforgiving space that was scorching at 45 degrees at 12 noon. The only cover they had from the sun and heat was the shade created by their cots. Their carts are now adapted and fashioned from discarded tempo or truck metal bodies, pulled by cows that also provide milk. Parked in an empty space in this small village along the highway, these carts serve as homes, workplaces and life for the itinerants. Barely able to manage their lives Gadiya children are not admitted to schools because they lack a domicile certificate. <Suratgarh sojourn-Rangmahal-Kalibangan>
Suratgarh, Rajasthan – It was just about 9:00 in the morning. Outside temperature was already a notch above 41 Celsius. One could feel the scorching loo and the intensely shining sun. I could hardly open my eyes or look up at the bland sky. Scarcely anyone was on the road. Other than the halwais and a few kiryana stores the market was shut and quiet. A few shops had their shutters half-open while the townspeople were still deciding whether to step out or not. Along with the searing breeze came the tempting smell of frying pakoras. A few people waited patiently outside the Pawan Namkeen Bhandar which is famous for its Mirchi Pakoras, Mirchi Kachoris, and spiced-up paneer pakoras. One must surrender to such temptations and dare to step out of the car even at the risk of heat-stroke. Also, the fiery breath of the Thar desert can only be countered with blazing ‘mirchi vada’ as they are called here. While the famous Mathania chilli from Western Rajasthan awaits GI recognition, the entire belt of Hanumangarh, Sangaria, Bikaner, Sri Ganganagar, Jodhpur and Surathgarh is famous for its fried Namkeen savories and hot chilli products.
Mirchi pakoras being friend in oil, Suratgarh, Rajasthan
This is a new Paperweight. It will weigh heavily on my heart until I live. That’s precisely what it is supposed to do and vibe every time I look at it or hold it in my hand. This is my Memento Mori. This reminds me how helpless a senior or elderly person feels when their denture no longer fits as their jaw and body shrink. A child’s toothless smile may be something people talk about but it feels terrible when a lady looks at herself in private, in the mirror. This must remind me that without teeth or a denture, one salivates less-and-less, which in turn means one cannot enjoy or even properly taste food. This must drive home the point that without this fitted in the mouth there is no chewing, even of semi-solids. This is Ma’s denture. Ma left without this, she hadn’t used it for the last four months of her life… Since I couldn’t discard it this adds to my memory of hers. This, her lower denture, now a piece of art created collectively by the four of us, is set in epoxy. This has Ma’s name etched on it under the left molar.
On a burning-hot April afternoon (like today), sometime in 1994 or 95 Suneet Chopra entered the Ishtihaar office, his face red and profusely sweating. A safa, the kind worn by a peasant-mazdoor leader was dripping on his head. Without saying a word he pulled up a chair and sat down. Cleaning his glasses with the gamachha, he ran his fingers through his beard and drank two glasses of water. A cup of tea later he asked me to get up and come with him. “Where to?” I asked. At the Delhi College of Art, there is a show of final year students’ works on display and for sale.” When Suneet spoke with that kind of authority you couldn’t say no. We drove to the college where the artworks of final-year BFA students were on display for assessment and for sale. Walking up and down the corridor and the hall, we looked at the artworks but weren’t ready to pay the prices students had labelled them for. We were about to leave when we met Saam Lal (that’s how he pronounced his name). Saam (Shyam), a peon-like assistant at the college, held a few rolled sheets in his hand. He had displayed two others on a cord along the outer wall. Those were HIS paintings. Shyam Lal, who had never attended school, learnt to draw and paint at DCA only. A few works that he managed to sell in a year supplemented his meagre salary. Looking at his works Suneet retraced his steps, and so did I. Suneet kept looking at the “Goats” – a gorgeous single one, and a clean-coated family of four. Suneet asked Shyam Lal to open the roll in his hand, which had two more artworks; Goats again. He looked at me and nodded, signaling that we should take these. Between the two of us we bought all four works. Shyam Lal asked for 2,500 each. Mind you, these are 3×2 feet fabulous works, watercolour on acid-free chart paper. The two in picture are with me, I wonder what Suneet did with his. Over thirty years now… every time I look at these works I remember both Suneet and Saam. Suneet is gone, I wonder what ever happened to tall, emaciated, smoker Saam who could hold both a brush and a bidi in his left hand while painting. Syam signed these works for us with a pencil tucked in his left ear. I cherish these.
For those who don’t know: late Suneet Chopra was an art critic, writer, and poet. He was a trade unionist; Secretary of the All India Agricultural Workers Union and a Central Committee member of CPI(M). Born in Lahore, Suneet was an alumnus of Modern School and St. Xavier’s College, Calcutta. He taught regional development at Jawaharlal Nehru University Delhi. More than everything else, the ever-smiling Suneet was a fine human being.
When Pushpesh Pant talks about food, he makes your mouth water even before you’ve really known the dish. By discussing the history, origin, species, process, and the love that goes into making a dish, he makes it so interesting that you feel like trying it the very next day. Just meeting him and listening to his tales of life and the kitchen truly satiates—both the spirit and the appetite. An evening with him is a harvest of culinary wisdom. Yesterday, at the Hans magazine’s “Zayka aur Zaban” event, the air was further seasoned by the presence of Vineet Kumar, author of Bachelor’s Kitchen, alongside Vandana Rag and Rachna Yadav.
पुष्पेश जी को मिलने और उनसे ज़िंदगी और रसोई के किस्से सुनने में ही आदमी तृप्त हो जाता है, मन से भी और पेट से भी, जिसके बाद इधर उधर कुछ खा कर आप जायका खराब नहीं करना चाहते। बहुत फ़ायदे हैं हर बैठक के। बीती शाम हंस पत्रिका के ज़ायका और ज़बान कार्यक्रम में बैचलर्स किचेन के लेखक विनीत कुमार, वंदना राग और रचना यादव से भी मुलाक़ात हुई।
Pushpesh PantProgrammeVineet Kumar and Vandana RaagRachna Yadav, Director Hans magazine
Ankahi. Unsaid. 
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