A Lesson for Urban India: Reinvent. Rise. Repeat.
- EkiBeki
- 6 days ago
- 6 min read
In cities, we measure life in promotions, quarterly targets, social media milestones, and curated success stories. We call burnout “ambition.” We call exhaustion “drive.” And when something collapses — a startup fails, a job disappears, a plan doesn’t work — we quietly panic.
But in the villages of Medinipur, Ranti, and Bhilwara, reinvention is not a strategy. It is survival.
In rural India, reinvention looks quieter.
It looks like Rupsona painting after putting her children to sleep. It looks like Dulari picking up a brush after life stripped her of certainty. It looks like Vidya Devi Soni continuing her practice at 73, proving that age is not an expiry date on purpose.
Women artisans who did not wait for the “perfect time.” They did not wait to feel confident. They did not wait for validation.
They simply continued.
The Scroll That That Refused to Fade: Rupsona Chitrakar
In the district of Medinipur, West Bengal, art is not a hobby. It is inheritance.
Artist Rupsona balances motherhood, household work, and the demanding precision of Patachitra. She inherited the craft — but continuing it in a rapidly changing market is her own act of courage.
For her, Patachitra is not something she “learnt” — it is something she grew up breathing. Born into a family of Patua artists, she watched stories unfold on scrolls long before she could read them. The rhythmic movement of the brush, the natural pigments, the songs that accompany the paintings — this was her childhood.
Each scroll she creates is not just art. It is proof that tradition survives because women refuse to let it fade.
From Silence to National Honour: Dulari Devi
Dulari Devi’s journey is carved from unimaginable loss and extraordinary courage.
Married at thirteen. A mother too young. A child lost.
By eighteen, she had returned to her parental home, carrying grief heavier than words. She had no formal education. No roadmap. No privilege.
While working as a domestic helper in the home of renowned Madhubani artist Mahasundari Devi, she found something unexpected — a doorway into art. Encouraged and mentored further by Karpoori Devi, Dulari began to draw.
What began as quiet learning became a powerful voice.
Through Madhubani’s bold lines and symbolic storytelling, she expressed pain, resilience, and rural life with authenticity that could not be taught in classrooms.
In 2020, her journey came full circle when she was awarded the Padma Shri by the Government of India — one of the country’s highest civilian honours.
From a child bride with no education to a nationally recognized artist — Dulari Devi’s life reminds us that talent needs only one opportunity to rise.
Her art did not just change her destiny. It changed the narrative of what rural women are capable of.
When Courage Meets Colour: Choti Tekam
When Choti came to Bhopal after her marriage to Santosh Tekam, she was struck by the number of artists around her. She saw their paintings and felt a quiet certainty: I can do this too.
When senior Gond artist Ram Singh Urveti handed her paper and colours, she did not hesitate. She filled the sheet with forms of deer — her favourite animal — instinctive, fluid, alive.
That moment changed everything.
Choti and her husband Santosh were among the first Gond artisans EkiBeki began working with in 2018. Since then, she has shared history in multiple EkiBeki Artisanal workshops, contributed to our stationery lines, and created wall art installations including the Indore Starbucks mural and Mandla Fort railway station.
She was also among the first artisans to receive royalties from EkiBeki for the use of her artwork on products such as gift envelopes, notebooks, and tote bags.
Her journey reminds us that opportunity changes everything.
When artisans are given fair platforms and direct market access, talent flourishes — and confidence follows.
Drawing Strength at 73: Vidya Devi Soni
In Bhilwara, Rajasthan, Mandana art adorns walls like blessings.
For Vidya Devi Soni, the word Mandana — meaning “drawing” — is more than decoration. It is devotion. She began learning at six, guided by her parents, Shri Badri Lal and Smt. Sumitra. What started as childhood practice became a lifelong commitment.
Today, at 73, her hands are steady. Her lines are confident. Her passion undiminished.
While many slow down with age, she continues to practice and preserve this sacred folk art form with pride. Her dedication earned her the National Merit Award in 2017 and the Mahila Shakti Rajasthan Award in 2019.
But beyond awards, what makes her extraordinary is her constancy.
In a world racing toward digital speed, she still kneels to draw with patience.
Her art is not loud. It does not chase trends. It simply endures.
Carrying the Loom Forward: Chandana Edem
Chandana Edem, daughter of master weaver Edem Srinath of Srinath Fabrics, belongs to the proud weaving community of Koyyalagudem, Telangana. She grew up surrounded by yarn, dye vats, and the rhythmic music of the loom. From her father — a National Award–winning artisan celebrated for his exceptional double Ikat designs and mastery of natural dyes — she learned the intricate art of tie-dye, Ikat, and the revered Teliya Rumal.
But at just 15, life changed forever.
After the tragic loss of her father, Chandana made a decision that would define her future. Instead of stepping away from the loom, she stepped toward it. She became the youngest weaver in her village, choosing to carry forward her father’s legacy through the very craft he had devoted his life to perfecting.
Her journey has not been easy.
While still a teenager, Chandana supported her family and took on the responsibility of leading Srinath Fabrics — a community of 40 weavers — all while mastering the demanding precision of intricate Ikat patterns and Teliya Rumal.
Through the Covid-19 crisis, collapsing incomes, and the growing threat of machine-made powerloom alternatives, she held on.
In her words: “I am able to find peace in my dad’s work. He’s still alive in my weaving.”
Yet she faces the harsh realities of the weaving industry — low wages, inconsistent orders, and exploitation where middlemen profit while artisans struggle to sustain themselves. Despite this, her dream remains clear: to teach the next generation of weavers, to show them that handloom is not a dying art but a dignified, viable future.
Strength in Bamboo: Jayashri Tai
From Vikramgadh, Jayashri Tai works with bamboo — a material that bends but does not break.
Much like her.
Bamboo craft demands physical strength and intricate skill. In regions where opportunities for women can be limited, she carved space for herself in a field often dominated by men.
She did not wait for an opportunity. She shaped it — strip by strip.
Urban India talks about “breaking glass ceilings.” She learned to bend bamboo and reshape destiny.
Weaving Hope from Grass: Ranjana Tai
In Jawahar Mokhada, Sikki grass becomes baskets, ornaments, and stories.
Ranjana Tai transforms a fragile natural fiber into objects of strength and beauty. The work is delicate. The margins are small. The labor is invisible to most buyers.
Yet she continues.
In cities, we discard what seems small. She proves that even grass, when woven with intent, can hold weight.
Fire, Metal, and Mentorship: Anuja Gharat
Copper enamel — Tamrakala — requires working with fire, heat, and precision. Mistakes are permanent. Timing is everything.
With over 20 years of experience in copper enamel craft, Anuja Tai represents mastery forged through fire. In spaces where metalwork is often male-dominated, she claims her place with skill.
But beyond her own artistry, Anuja Tai has dedicated herself to training and mentoring more than 20 women, ensuring that the craft does not fade with one generation.
In industries where traditional crafts struggle for visibility, she chooses to expand the circle. Reinvention here is not abandoning tradition — it is stepping into spaces that were never designed for you, and multiplying opportunity.
Enterprise with Impact: Smita Prashant Vaidya
Since 2013, Smita Prashant Vaidya has been building something powerful — not just a fruits processing and spices unit, but an ecosystem.
What began with purchasing just 5 kilograms of fruit has grown into processing nearly 20 tons. Over the past decade, her enterprise has crossed the ₹1 crore turnover mark. More importantly, she has consistently provided employment to 15–30 women every year for the last ten years.
She supports local farmers by sourcing directly from them, ensuring fair demand and steady income. At the same time, she strengthens her husband’s copper craft business — helping sustain yet another traditional art form that struggles to survive in modern markets.
Urban India celebrates startups once they scale. Smita scaled quietly — kilogram by kilogram, woman by woman, farmer by farmer.
Her reinvention is not just personal. It is collective.
A lesson for us
We fear starting over. They start over every season.
We panic at instability. They build within uncertainty.
We equate identity with job titles. They root identity in skill and purpose.
Urban culture glorifies hustle. But these women teach us something deeper — discipline. Not the flashy, motivational kind. The quiet, repetitive, resilient kind.
These women show us that identity can be rooted in skill, heritage, and purpose — things no recession can erase.
They did not reinvent by abandoning who they were.They reinvented by deepening who they are. And perhaps the most beautiful part of all —
Their daughters are watching.
A word from EkiBeki: When we support women artisans, we are not just buying handcrafted work. We are investing in generational knowledge, economic independence, and cultural pride.
We are saying: Your story matters.
Your skill matters.
Your resilience matters.
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