Change of art: See how three unusual Indian crafts are getting a reboot

Turns out, the craft is not only Indian, it’s also generations old, and fashioned without a potter’s wheel. The technique is indigenous to Manipur’s Longpi Khullen and Longpi Kajui villages, where artisans mix local clay with crushed serpentinite rock, and use moulds, tools or their own hands to shape earthenware. The fired items are then rubbed with a local leaf, which makes the ebony surface gleam.

It would have remained a niche craft, fading out of existence, had one craftsman not taken a leap of faith. Machihan Sasa carried his wares to a local market in 1978, and happened to catch the eye of government officials. “My father was not literate at the time,” says Mathew Sasa. “The officials helped him attend exhibitions at the Delhi Crafts Museum.” He kept at it, selling at fairs farther and farther away from home, training some 300 Longpi locals in the craft, and practically birthing a Longpi cottage industry. Machihan was awarded the Padma Shri last year for his efforts.

Sasa picked up the skills from his father as a preteen, and would accompany him to Delhi’s Pragati Maidan for the fairs. Then, in 2001, they had a 500-piece order from Belgian vendors. “My father felt it was too large a quantity to transport from Manipur to Delhi,” Sasa says. So, he transported the clay and tools by train, used space provided by a friend, and got to work.

It was the first time the craft was being made outside of their hometown. And it prompted Sasa to set up a studio in the capital and create modern decorative items and tableware. “Many youngsters back home have few job opportunities,” Sasa says. “I invite them to Delhi to learn and work with me and earn some money.” He’s trained close to 40 locals, and collaborates with design brands to create new styles of cookware, tableware, and decorative pieces. “I also continue with my own designs because people like those items.”

Meanwhile in Manipur, a government-supported artisan village is scheduled to open in Longpi. “The government will provide stipends for three years and design experts will come in to consult with the craftspeople,” Sasa says. The intention is for the locals to eventually form a cooperative and market their products. Sasa is optimistic about the move. “More youngsters are interested in learning and selling this pottery online. The craft will continue until the materials, which are only found there, exist.”

Art on shuffleSawantwadi Ganjifa cards

This isn’t your family’s pack of playing cards. They’re round, come in a pack of 120, require three people to play, and look too pretty to deal. Ganjifa, a Persian-origin card game, came to India possibly via the Mughals and found a new life and identity in Sawantwadi, a onetime princely state in coastal Maharashtra.

Ganjifa cards are distractingly beautiful. The artwork features characters from Hindu mythology, the borders have intricate, high-contrast patterns. Sawantwadi’s style is distinct. It depicts the ten incarnations of Vishnu in bright colours, and the women devotees wear the nine-yard sari. Artisans enjoyed royal patronage and produced several sets for the palace and the locals. But the game fell out of favour as Western-style decks were introduced in the 19th century. With a little royal help, they may actually become a game-night staple again.

The first move was made in the 1970s, when Rajesaheb Lieutenant Colonel Shivram Sawant Bhonsle, the last coronated king, and his wife, Rajmata Satvashiladevi Sawant Bhonsle spotted a lone artist working on a set of cards on their porch. A revival plan was put in place. Artisans were trained within the palace and the style was expanded to be put on furniture, coasters, trays and mirrors. As for the cards, “it’s an interesting game, but not everyone is interested in playing ganjifa, its appeal is more as a collector’s item,” says Shraddha Lakham Sawant Bhonsle, who is driving the current revival, along with her mother-in-law Shubhadadevi Khem Sawant Bhonsle, and husband, Lakham Sawant Bhonsle.

The family has developed an Uno-style Ganjifa deck and board games such as Ludo, darts, and Connect 4. “We work with designers on handpainted Ganjifa bridal wear, jewellery and murals,” Shraddha Sawant Bhonsle says. The art shows up in the parts of the palace that were converted into a hotel in 2023. In the grand durbar hall, artisans create works for sale, and offer workshops for the guests.

The craft was granted a GI tag last year. There is demand, but Sawantwadi is short on supply – there just aren’t enough artists. Young locals leave for more lucrative opportunities in bigger cities. The family hopes to get government support to offer artists a stipend and pension scheme in addition to their wages. There are plans to expand the palace’s gallery to display their collection of royal memorabilia and Ganjifa cards from around India. “It would be a dream project to have a card museum, possibly the only one in India,” says Shubhadadevi Khem Sawant Bhonsle.

Drawn to the past North-East India’s folktales and folklore

An old lady looks on as a green frog pours rice grains out of his ear. It’s not a fever dream, but an illustration of a folktale, The Ugly Frog, from the Marma people of Tripura and Bangladesh. The story follows a human cursed to live as a frog. There is a happily-ever-after too. One kiss and Poof! The frog is a man again.New York-based illustrator Alyssa Pachuau has been illustrating folk tales from India’s North-East for years. There are stories of people, fantastical creatures, mischievous spirits, and animals. Some are local riffs on popular fairytales – in Red Riding Hood, her wolf has pierced ears and wears a Naga warrior shawl. It started with just wanting something to draw and connect to her roots in Mizoram. It’s now a way to preserve undocumented oral traditions before they vanish.

Pachuau scours archives, digital repositories, social media and libraries for research. “I’ve had smaller tribes contact me about illustrating their folktales, as no one had done that for them before,” she says. As with any well-told tale, the genius is in the details. Pachuau spends time depicting hairstyles, clothes, jewellery, combs and pipes that are specific to each tribe. “Many of our customs and traditions were discontinued when we transitioned from animistic pagan culture to Christianity. The subtleties were lost. It’s why I incorporate them.”

It’s also why some of her stories extend past India’s borders. Her 2024 series, Tales from the Chittagong Hill Tracts (which includes The Ugly Frog), features eight of the 12 tribes of the region in Bangladesh. “In my research, I found that many tribes in the area are ethnically and linguistically related to some tribes in North-East India.”

Pachuau does occasional collaborations and has had her work put on calendars and T-shirts. But much of her art shines on her Instagram@AlyssaPachuau. Up next, an illustrated guide to Mizo supernatural and mythical creatures, and launching an online store for her artwork.

From HT Brunch, March 29, 2025

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