Skip to main content

Getting into someone's Kolhapuri



Here's an interview of author and former journalist Anjali Joseph



Walking down the streets of Paris, Anjali Joseph, came across a pair of Kolhapuri chappals in a fancy store. They were stamped with 'Genuine Kolhapuri Chappals' tag. In the middle of the road, Joseph stared as if she had met a family member, after long time, in a strange land,.
“I felt like asking the footwear, 'what are you doing here?' My brother and I wear Kolhapuris, most people in my family do and there's deep attachment and comfort associated with the footwear,” says Joseph.
No wonder than that the Kolhapuris and their makers find themselves in Joseph's third book – The Living. “There are two main characters in the book. Claire is a a single parent to a teenaged boy. She is working in one of the last surviving shoe factories, in Norwich, United Kingdom. And, then there is a man called Arun in Kolhapur, who makes the Kolhapuri chappals. The protagonists don't meet, but their stories are loosely linked. It is a book about craft and how we look at work, how it shapes the person and the experiences that they have,” explains Joseph.
Craft and heritage is something that has always appealed to the writer. A former journalist in Mumbai, she did new features, meeting people who might have something interesting to share.
“Everyone has a story. I am interested in writing about people, who don't see themselves as subject of art or think they are interesting - I think that's interesting. I don't think I will be able to write about an famous actor. I don't think that's interesting for me,” adds Joseph.
Is that why she has chosen to focus on working class in The Living?
“Yes, that's one reason. Another reason is that chappal or shoe making is an art - just like a sculptor sculpts an idol. But the shoemakers can't write their names on the chappals or footwear. They are a part of tradition, but not named ever. Their working in oblivion also interested me,” says she.
And, also the fact that they are crafting a product amidst worries about their future.
“Claire, as I said, earlier is working in one of the last shoe factories in UK. Earlier, the shoemakers were paid per piece. They didn't have a margin, they worked hard because their livelihood depends on it. It's now that the shoemakers in UK are paid. Arun in
Kolhapur is worried about who will carry forward his legacy. I spent a week in England and then couple of weeks in Kolhapur, watching them at work,” says Joseph.
The flipside, adds she, is that despite the constraints Claire and Arun face because of their skill, their work is very absorbing; they are working with their hands and that helps them to concentrate.
Having spent several years in UK and working in Mumbai, Joseph has always yearned for experiences, trying to learn about people and about herself everytime.
“I spent quite a few years studying in UK. Then, working as a trainee accountant, teaching at the university. I took up journalism in Mumbai because for an introvert person like me this was one way of chatting up people and looking for stories. And, then I took up writing fiction, because I always wanted to tell stories,” says Joseph, who now shuttles between Guwahati and Pune, where her parents lived.
When asked if this penchant for experiences helps in becoming a writer?
“ I have the freedom to make certain choices, so this is how I lived. But look at R K Narayan. He lived all his life in one place, but wrote some wonderful stories. Ultimately, it's about a craft. Writing is a craft for me, and not winning awards. I love day dreaming, dreaming of the ordinariness. We don't often appreciate our lives. But if through my writing, I can make people appreciate their lives, routine of getting into a bus/train, commuting to work, then that's my success. After all, a good piece of literature is about longevity. So if you want to wear a skilled chappal like Kolhapuri or another footwear for Rs 300 with stitched soles...then the choice is yours. I would opt for the crafted Kolhapuri any day,” concludes Joseph.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Portrait of a poet

This has already been published in the Sunday supplement. Krishnaji Keshav Damle also known as Keshavsut --- Poetry never really appealed to me. And, so it was with great reluctance that I agreed to my husband's plan to visit Keshavsut Smarak – a memorial raised in memory of 'Father of Modern Marathi Poetry', Krishnaji Keshav Damle – in Malgund. We were in Ganapatipule at that time and decided to go to Malgund, a 10-minute drive (a kilometre) from the popular tourist destination. A sign-post told us to take a left turn and what greeted us, at the end of the lane, was tranquil silence. No security guards, no tourists, just a plaque announcing that Damle, popularly known as Keshavsut, was born in the red-roofed house, surrounded by green shrubbery. Keshavsut's house in Malgund  A poem by Keshavsut  The house, renovated in the old style, was near-empty, except for Keshavsut's portrait that was hanging from the wall in the front room. In the

Many ideas of ‘self’ (Review of Pratibimb, Marathi play)

With Mahesh Elkunchwar’s name as a writer associated with Pratibimb (Reflection), you know nothing in the play will be at face value. Nothing is what it seems. It is difficult for commoners to get into Elkunchwar’s mindspace, which is precisely the subject of the Marathi play, which was staged earlier in August and will now be performed again on Friday, September 15 at Sudarshan Rangmanch, Shaniwar Peth. While watching the play, it’s evident that the viewer has to peel various layers to get to the core of the story — Who are you? What does ‘self-identity’ mean? Is it so bad if your reflection goes missing or if you have no identity? Thokale (a white-collared office goer) wakes up one morning and finds his reflection missing. Enters Bai, his landlady, who tries to assure him that nothing is lost. In fact, it could be a ‘breaking news’ for the newspaper. This perhaps could have led to a lot of chaos physically. Instead, we are led to the darkness looming large in our dystopian minds

Valu and more

Visited Poman Pimpale village where Marathi picture Valu was shot. --- Documentary la chala… came the shout and Poman Pimpale villagers slowly started gathering at the village square. The children were already there, jostling each other, eager to see the ‘documentary’ – Marathi film Valu, which was shot in this village, some 14 kms away from Saswad. On the occasion of the film completing 50 successful days, the cast and crew of Valu, decided to host a special screening for the villagers on Saturday as a tribute. As Umesh Kulkarni, the director of Valu says, “ The movie is a collaborative venture of the villagers and myself. Valu is theirs as much as it is mine.” You just need to mingle with the crowd to find out what Umesh says is true - it’s their movie that the villagers have gathered to see. Pradeep Poman, a village elder, says that they enjoyed the whole film making process. “It had become a past time for us. Whenever we had some time to spare, we just went to see the shooting.