“Nothing scares me anymore. My life has taught me that if nature takes something away from you, it will most certainly give you the strength to rise above it,” said Hamir Daya Vankar, a 68-year-old weaver from the Bhujodi village of Kachchh.

　　Along with long hours of labour, great precision, and hardwork, what lies behind the popular Bhujodi weave is the immense resilience of its craftsmen. The village lies only 10 km away from Bhuj that was one of the worst affected cities during the 2001 Gujarat Earthquake. The calamity took the village of Bhujodi to destruction and debris. The highly-vulnerable village continues to feel slight tremors of earthquakes on some days.

　　“Even today, in the middle of the night, when my wife points towards the swaying fan above us and the moving glass on our side tables, all I do is, hold her hand and sleep with the hope to see another day,” said Manji Bhai, Vankar’s best friend. The duo sat next to each other looking straight into my eyes. “Do we have an option?” they asked.

　　A sudden silence engulfed that moment. Without an answer, we moved on.

　　While every village and community in Kachchh has a distinct art associated with it, the one common thing among all Kachchhi artists is their belief in their craft, even in the face of many hardships. Whether it is the rise of machine-made goods or the unpredictable nature of their land, their craft and their craftsmanship has stood the test of time.

　　Bhujodi: Home To The Age-Old Weave

　　As you set foot in the Bhujodi village, you will be greeted by a number of shops selling shawls, stoles, sarees, carpets and shirts made with the age-old Bhujodi weave. Behind these stores are the workshops of these artisans who spend hours synchronising the movement of their hands and feet and focusing their vision on their large machines.

　　Most households in the village belong to the Vankar community, while others belong to the Rabari community. Behind a mint green gate lies the sprawling house of Vankar Shyam Ji Vishram. Twelve generations of his family have been weavers. Dressed in a chic deep blue shirt, a dupatta turned into a pagdi, and off-white dhoti pants, Vishram took me through the history and process of the exquisite weave.

　　“It can take anywhere between a month to even two years to complete a piece,” Vishram told me as he continued to fold his shawls. He also spoke about how the women of the village are equally involved in bringing the pieces to life. “The finishing to our pieces is given by the women of the house. They tie the final phumtas (tassels). More like they have the final word,” he added.

　　Talking about the rise of machine-made textile, Vishram said, “If machines take over everything, skill, detail, craftsmanship, and the beauty of hand-woven pieces will disappear. We should caution ourselves against this.”

　　Nirona Village: Where Traditional Kachchhi Arts And Crafts Come Together

　　When I entered the Nirona Gram Hatt at the Nirona village, it felt like I just entered an art school of a different era. With a large courtyard, surrounded by small rooms, the Gram Hatt is a breathing ground for traditional arts and crafts. However, I was quite wrong, each room at the Hatt was an institution in itself.

　　The rare and regal-looking Rogan art uses jelly-like filaments of heated castor oil (Handel ka tel) and colour pigment to create richly symmetrical designs. Vishal Bhanushali is a first-generation craftsman who has been practising this craft for more than 15 years now. “I started learning when I was 20 years old. Initially, it was painful to work with the hot castor oil, but then my skin became used to it,” said Bhanushali.

　　He learnt the 1500-year-old Rogan art from his Guru, Ashish Kansara in the Madhapar village. “If we don’t stand up for our traditional arts and crafts, no one else will,” Bhanushali added.

　　Our conversation was soon interrupted by a hammering sound from just across Bhanushali’s room.

　　There I saw Nanji Maheshwari, hammering, folding, and shaping thin copper sheets into bells that made the most pleasant tinkle. Nanji bells are what everyone calls them.

　　“I started making bells when I was 15—not because I wanted to, but because my mother said I was good for nothing else,” said Nanji Bhai, his voice barely audible over the rhythmic hammering.

　　“Fast forward to today, and I can’t go a single day without making bells. It brings me immense joy,” he added with a smile.

　　When I bought a Nanji bell, his face lit up. “I hope it brings you happiness,” he said, beaming with pride.

　　The Gram Hatt also hosts artists practising mud work, leather art, and wooden lacquer work, making it a one stop shop to explore the cultural beauty and richness of the land.

　　Kachchh And Garba

　　Infectious energy, energetic moves, and colorful kedhiyas and chenes (costumes) sums up the Garba dance form. The Bansidhar Ras Mandal group is a group of 12 Ahir men from the Dhori village of Kachchh who have been performing the dance form since 2003. Computer engineers, bank professionals, farmers, and weavers are all tied together by their love for the dance form and their conviction to keep their culture alive. The people of the Ahir community who are believed to be the descendents of Lord Krishna perform the dance in reverence of the god.

　　“This is our culture. Our forefathers performed it and so will our children,” said Vishnu Ahir, a 30-year-old mining consultant who is also one of the twelve dancers in the group. Most of their dances are performed on devotional songs celebrating the life of Lord Krishna.

　　During celebrations like Navratri and Krishna Janm (Janmashtami), Garba is a ritual at the Dhori village. “We were never taught how to play it, we just looked at our parents and learnt, so will our children,” said Ahir as he gasped for breath after the group’s breathtaking performance at the Rann Utsav.