Samyukta Shastri

Sharmila Joshi

Editor

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Shivam
Singh lays out a red carpet every morning on a bustling street in Dadar. He
carefully places five plastic stools on the four-by-five feet carpet. He then keeps
a framed image of Goddess Lakshmi below one of the stools, and lights a piece
of incense.
 
 A
banner hangs from a branch of the
 
 peepal
 
 tree under which he has set up shop – it says ‘Shivam Mehendi Artist’.  The banner and various photo albums that he arranges
on the stools display pictures of
 
 mehendi-
 
 covered hands and feet. Shivam then
waits for the first customer of the day to choose a design – flowers, paisley,
whorls, or sometimes he draws designs inspired by the customer’s hands. “Someone
will come….” he says, optimistic about his day.
 
 Some
200 metres away, Shiva Nayk has also set up shop on Ranade Road, not far from
the Dadar suburban railway station in central Mumbai. He too prepares for the
day by filling handmade plastic cones with henna paste. The footpath on which the two artists have
set up shop is buzzing with activity. Various goods and services are being
traded here by other migrants – the flower vendor is from Solapur, the man
repairing jewellery is from Lucknow, the shoe-seller has come from Kolkata and
the man selling ice-cream from Rajasthan.

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Shiva
and Shivam will sit at their makeshift stalls for around 10 hours, as do many
 
 mehendiwalas
 
 nearby – at least 30 in this locality, estimates
Shiva, all of them men.
“Boys are faster at
 
 mehendi
 
 than girls. Girls have [beauty]
parlours [to practice henna]. Boys set up these businesses. Girls can’t sit on
footpaths…” says Shivam.
 Like
many other
 
 mehendiwalas
or
 
 henna artists sitting near suburban stations across the city, Shiva and
Shivam are migrants; both are from Uttar Pradesh.  Shivam, 19, came to Mumbai around six years
ago from Jama village of Gavana
 
 tehsil
 
 in Aligarh district. “I was eight or nine when I
left my village,” he says; “There was no earning member at home – my two older
brothers were married and lived separately.”
 
 But
before he made his way to Mumbai, Shivam went to Delhi to his maternal uncle’s
place, keen to learn the craft of
 
 mehendi
 
 design.
“For 2-3 months,
all day long, I practiced tracing on   cardboard. Once I was confident enough, they
let me draw on customers’ hands.” After working in
small restaurants or driving tractors and cars to earn an income, Shivam arrived
in Mumbai.
 
 Shiva,
in his 20s, came to Mumbai 10 years ago from Tundla
 
 tehsil
 
 in Firozabad district. Entering the
 
 mehendi
 
 trade was natural for him. “The entire
village does this,” he says. “I learnt it from my brother when I came here; my
brother from our brother-in-law. This is our family’s traditional occupation.
Everyone does this.”
 
 Kuldeep Nayk, Shiva’s cousin, who also
has a
 
 mehendi
 
 stall in Mumbai, says, “Just as other children go
to school to study, the children in our village learn this. We can draw
whatever the customer asks for.” He then rattles off,  “Any style
 <a>
 –
 </a>
 Arabic,
Bombay style, Marwadi, Indo-Arabic, Indo-western, Dubai… anything.”
 
 Moving
to Mumbai to work as
 
 mehendi
 
 artists has been profitable. “Where
was the money earlier?” Shivam asks. “Only when we move out [migrate] and start
to earn do we see money. In the village, you could get only 200-300 rupees a
day for manual labour. In Delhi, I earned 7,000-9,000 as a driver. Now I earn between
30 and 50,000 rupees a month.”

img_6549_iMG_6558.jpg

Shivam
makes most of his income from
 
 mehendi
 
 jobs at weddings. “Here [on the
streets] we make between 800-2000 rupees a day – we get around 5 to 10 customers
a day. If five come [we earn at least] 1000-1500. If people call us home [for
 
 mehendi
 
 ],
it is usually a minimum of a 1000.”
 Manoj,
his uncle from Jaipur, who has his own
 
 mehendi
 
 stall at Dadar East and is visiting
Shivam, says, “Each customer pays around 500 rupees
per hand. The rates start from Rs. 100. But no one opts for that. Everyone goes
for 300 or 400.
 
 Mehendi
 
 for brides
starts from 5,000 rupees.”
 
 But
it’s not only the money that draws henna artists to this trade. Shivam says he
likes the independence, he is not answerable to anyone. Manoj says he enjoys
the freedom to travel at will. He rarely sits at his shop and moves around
meeting friends. “I
have been in Mumbai for 4 to 5 years,” he says. “Before that I had a shop in in
Tamil Nadu. We keep wandering – Tamil Nadu, Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh – I
have roamed all over the country. Go wherever you
please, whenever you please. Today I feel like visiting the beach, so I will…”
 
 Both
Shivam and Manoj employ helpers. “They see that other people from their village
are making money in this business and they too come here,” Shivam says.  Manoj hands over his shop to assistants and
only steps in when there is an unusual flow of customers or home orders.
 
 This
freedom also allows Shivam to frequently visit home in Jama village and tend to
the 20
 
 bighas
 
 (around four acres) of land his family owns. He
pays the boys he employs Rs. 5000- 7000 a month. Some of his income, he says, goes
as protection fees every month to local strongmen. Another portion is used as
rent – Shivam lives in joint quarters with Manoj and a few others in Ghatkopar
in north-east Mumbai.
 
 Whatever
is left from his earnings, Shivam sends home. “Of what use is the money here
[in Mumbai]? We are doing this for home, after all,” he says. Shiva adds, “Why
are we earning this money… For here or for home?”

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Back home in Jama, Shivam’s mother and 15-year-old sister Anju depend on him. Anju has completed Class 10 and helps her mother in the house. When asked who will do the mehendi when she gets married, Shivam asserts with brotherly pride that he will. “Or perhaps my brother will <a> </a> .Who else?” Manoj feels differently: “I don’t like to draw mehendi when I am home [in Jaipur]. But sometimes, when people insist, I do it.”Meanwhile, at Shiva’s stall, a customer has stopped by. She wants him to come over for a mehendi ceremony before her niece’s wedding.  “You can call us for mehendi anywhere in Mumbai. If it is outside Mumbai the charges will be extra,” he says. “We go everywhere.”

Code Red: the visible hand of Dadar market

சிவப்புக் குறியீடு: தாதர் சந்தையில் தென்படும் கைகள்

କୋଡ ରେଡ : ଦାଦର ବଜାରର ସେହି ଯାଦୁକରୀ ହାତ

শিল্পীর হাতের গুণে দাদর বাজার মেহেন্দির লাল রঙে সেজে ওঠে

कोड रेडः दादरच्या बाजारातले नक्षीदार हात

ಕೆಂಪು ಕೋಡ್: ದಾದರ್ ಮಾರುಕಟ್ಟೆಯ ಕಾಣುವ ಕೈ

کوڈ ریڈ: دادر بازار میں نظر آتا ہاتھ

জেতুকাৰ দৰে ৰং, দাদৰ বজাৰৰ মেহেন্দীসনা হাতবোৰ

Dadar

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Code Red: the visible hand of Dadar market

Shiva and Shivam, who have set up streetside mehendi businesses at Dadar in central Mumbai, are two of many henna artists across the city's markets. They talk about why they migrated from Uttar Pradesh and how this work has given them independence

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