Created by Hand

PRINCY VAIDYAN

It may sound a bit odd, but one of my favorite objects is my grandmother’s clay pot. It is earthenware of ordinary brown clay, circular in shape, wide and hollow. The bottom surface is blackened by heat from fire; sole evidence that the pot was used for cooking purposes. It weighs light enough to be carried by one hand, but my mother insists that it be handled with care since it can break. The bottom is curved from both sides, leading to an indentation (a moving in of the potter’s hands) to create the opening at the top. It is simple yet unique. There is no glaze or flowery prints adorning its exterior, but just strayed lines and faded color from overuse. Nonetheless, it speaks volumes to our past and our experiences.

Culturally, every village of every state in India has a potter, who wheels out variety of household items, such as bowls, plates, and urns for carrying water. I grew up in this culture, where great value was placed in the “natural” and items were formed and created by hand instead of machines. Historically, this item is significant to me, because it connects me to the earliest traditions of civilization and culture- where clay pots infused creativity of all kinds: a potter working with his hands, leading to an aroma of meals flooding the kitchen. And as if the possibilities were endless, these objects were once used as musical instruments and they bore spiritual symbols. With the spread of urbanization, these pots are rarely seen (in its natural form) or used in modern-day India.

Although, this clay pot is valuable both culturally and historically, it takes a hold of me emotionally, as well. I have a special love for this object, in particular, because it reminds me of my dear grandmother. She raised me until I was six years old, and I still recall watching her standing in the kitchen, marinating some fresh fish and making curry in clays pots like these. She was a great cook, and objects like these make me smile because it helps me remember. When she had passed away in 2002, we returned home and took back with us whatever we can carry- that will remind us of her. This clay pot came with us too.

In conclusion, objects reflect and define beauty, utility, and inspiration. They provide a dramatic and, at times, unexpected backdrop for exciting and unique stories. They have a way of eliciting a memory that cannot be justified through the use of words or deeds. With that said, I believe objects hold great meaning. It expresses our culture, our values, our stories, and above all, it evokes a sense of intellectual and emotional “engagement.” Moreover, one can argue that the value of an object is rather subjective than objective. This can be so, since value of an item is often acquired through one’s experience. Nevertheless, I feel as if all objects can tell a tale, if we are simply willing to listen and think outside of our cultural box. Living in a world where items are mass-produced continuously, the value of an object can be lost. However, I have come to realize that- objects don’t have to be a priceless work of art in a museum to be interesting. At times they are intriguing, simply because they are a part of our everyday lives; or they remind us of a past that is not necessarily dead, but all around us!