AT first glance, Bangalore’s ANTS store seems like a mere crafts
outlet. It offers cane-handled Tangkhul Naga black pottery and Manipuri kauna
reed mats, traditional dai knives in a sheath, elegant Bodo weave wraparound
skirts, even coral-turquoise jewellery. But beyond its sunny café, where conversation
flows easy over cake and cappuccino, lies an invisible but potent mission. For
this outlet in upmarket Indiranagar, is more about people than products.
Its intent? To create illuminated
entry points for mainstream India
into the Seven Sisters and One Brother (Sikkim) states of the
often-misinterpreted, little-visited northeast.
This was apparent at its recent
festivals of Meitei and Tangkhul Naga food, celebrating the universal language
of food. Sourcing ingredients like fermented bamboo and delectable shelled
snails from Manipur, the former was cooked over two days by Meitei students and
IT professionals. Over 2000 of them live in the IT hub. Biting into Paknam, a savoury
pancake of steamed herbs, spices, dry fish and gram flour, we mull over how
little Bangalore
knows of the Meitei.
The million-strong Meitei are the
major ethnic group of Manipur, whose seven clans trace their written history
back to 33 AD. Such inputs catapult us beyond familiar connects, such as
Manipuri dance, director Ratan Thiyam’s famed Chorus Repertory Theatre, and the
iron-willed dissident Irom Sharmila.
Tasting Shingju salad of cabbage,
raw papaya and fermented fish, my thoughts race to a March 2010 group exploration
of Assam,
Meghalaya and Arunachal Pradesh. The journey left us full of questions:
When the biodiversity-rich Aruchanal
mountains are latent with tourist promise, why is there but a single infrequent
helicopter flight to Tawang from Guwahati? Why are Assamese highways the only
connections between eastern and western Arunachal? Why are Indian soldiers (not
police) allowed to beat up handcuffed suspects in a public jeep in daylight in Assam? The
answers are hardly as sweet as the kheer of purple-black rice, grown only in
Manipur.
Issues apart, our trip left us
memories to cherish. Of women weavers at traditional looms under their chang
ghar on stilts on Assam’s
Majuli island. Of a Khasi church service dedicated to us in friendly Mawlynnong
in Meghalaya. Of the grandeur of Tawang monastery against the snow-steepled Himalayas. The journey only whetted our appetite for
Manipur, Nagaland, Tripura, Mizoram and Sikkim.
Such positive stories from the
northeast are the foci of the ANTS store, committed to Fairtrade and Craftmark
values. Trichao Thomas, a Naga from the Pomai tribe of Manipur, coordinates its
programme to ‘northeastize the mainstream.’ How? Through initiatives like food
festivals, readings from ‘Neti Neti,’ a novel by Shillong-born Anjum Hasan,
even a mini Naga cultural festival. Unfortunately, historian Ramachandra Guha’s
talk on the Naga peace process was cancelled due to the July 2008 Bangalore blasts.
ANTS, launched in December 2007, is
an offshoot of the Action Northeast Trust (www.theant.org).
Like her counterparts on Majuli, this store showcases weaves by Bodo women like
Bongaigoan’s Sheena Basumatary, 38.
In 2002, design student Smitha
Murthy from Bangalore’s
Srishti school asked Sheena and four others to create samples of traditional
motifs as part of a ‘Weaving Peace’ project. Sheena agreed because her husband,
a driver, did not earn enough to support their three children.
Three years later, Sheena joined Aagor
Dagra Afad, registered to empower Bodo woman weavers. Today, as its assistant
managing trustee, she guides 200 others. And Smitha, who reinterprets Bodo weaves
as sleek cutaway blouses in sync with urban India, is both ANTS designer and an
Aagor trustee. Over the past nine years, Aagor has distributed Rs. 65 lakhs to
its 102 weavers (soaring to 400 in response to larger orders), by “crafting
livelihoods for the poorest, harnessing strengths of the weakest.” Its sales
have touched Rs. 2 crore.
Sheena, who studied only upto Std.
2, says, “The money I earn from weaving has given me self-confidence and
control over my life. I’d never imagined that I would one day make important
decisions for such a big organization.”
Every product at ANTS couches an
unvoiced story from the Northeast, often visualized by mainstream India as an
unfathomable, troubled region. This pilot store in Bangalore hopes to use “soft power to mould
minds.” Even if changing mindsets takes years, NGOs and the Bangalore intelligentsia can now reach out to
the local northeastern diaspora of over 65,000. Perhaps New Delhi and Mumbai will respond as empathetically
one day.
For those who long to explore the northeast,
ANTS is currently engaged in talks with groups like GypsyFeet, engaged with
community-based tourism and local home-stays. Perhaps that will keep hope alive
within Awon, Athing and Mimi, the Nagas from Manipur who staff ANTS. For they
dream of a united India, sensitized towards the distant, tantalizing northeast.
(The Hindu Business Line 2003)