Aye rangrez mere,

Aye rangrez mere,

Yeh baat bata rangrez mere,

Yeh kaun se paani mein tu ne,

Kaun sa rang ghola hain…

(My dear dyer, tell me my dear dyer, which water is this and which colour have you mixed in it…)

In this song from the Hindi film Tanu Weds Manu (2011), a love-struck couple asks the rangrez , as the community of Muslims dyers from Marwar in Rajasthan is known, to paint their body and soul with the colour of immortal love.

Two years later, in the film Bhaag Milkha Bhaag , another pair of lovers danced along a street lined with dyed fabric, eager to tell the world of their budding romance.

In reality, the life of the rangrez is neither colourful nor romantic. A visit to north Kolkata’s Chitpur area, off the chaotic Burrabazaar, gives you a picture of the squalor and poverty that this traditional dyer community lives in. The rangrez first came to Kolkata more than a century ago, says history buff and blogger Rangan Datta. “Like many other business communities from Rajasthan, the rangrez , too, came here in search of livelihood,” he says, adding that they chose to settle in Chitpur as there were a number of Marwaris who lived in and controlled the area. They started off by dyeing turbans, a piece of clothing that most Rajasthanis used back in the day. Over time, they added dupattas, saris and hosiery to the work list.

Things went fine until the advent of polyester yarn and the dyeing machine several decades ago. This led to a decline in demand, thus drawing the colour out of the rangrez ’s business. Mohammed Salim (54) clearly remembers the heyday: “My grandfather settled here [Chitpur] in 1919. I have seen my father work without a break, without sleep. He made handsome profits that even helped him save for the future.” Salim says his business was going well until 10-12 years ago. He once used to dye 6,000 kg of cotton thread a month. Today, he is left with just one-fifth of his past business, in terms of work and revenue.

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Sexagenarian Mohammed Islamuddin Solanki, Salim’s friend and neighbour, was forced to shut down his dyeing unit and switch to colouring artificial beads and pearls for cosmetic jewellery. “I employed 14 dyers who worked round the clock till about 10 years ago. But we couldn’t keep pace with technology,” he says as his voice trails off. Islamuddin hasn’t managed to raise the money he needs for his wife Maimuna Khatoon’s spine surgery. He also can’t afford school education for his two grandchildren.

It is no surprise that many members of Chitpur’s 3,000-strong rangrez community are now pulling rickshaws or doing shift jobs in factories in the area.

“We are disappearing quietly but nobody seems to be bothered,” says Mohammed Irfan Solanki (43), also a dyer. He adds that the lack of education has further hindered the community’s chances of bouncing back.

Swati Mantri, a scholar studying communities, at Delhi’s Indian Institute of Technology, seconds Irfan’s views on the low literacy levels. “The rangrez has had to face twin tensions of adapting to the changing patterns of the business and also make way for the new generation to branch out of their traditional occupation. Unfortunately, illiteracy is a major challenge for both these transitions,” she says. The lack of formal education, however, is not dictated by economics alone. Even when they were prospering, few families would send their children to school. They, instead, accompanied parents and family elders to work.

A rangrez ’s training in the trade would start early in his teens. Colours are still sourced from Burrabazaar, a wholesale market. Instead of earthen containers, aluminium tubs are used for the mixing of colours in warm water. This is the most important step, which is followed by the dipping and trampling of the cloth. There are several rounds of checking to ensure that the cloth has absorbed the right shade. It then goes into a drying machine before being put under the sun.

The stench from the colours being treated in the aluminium tubs, is a permanent fixture in the warren of narrow alleys that is home to Kolkata’s rangrez community . The buildings here, with rickety staircases and crumbling terraces, look as unstable as the future of the people that live in them.

The rangrez ’s work requires long hours and skills, but the returns are less than satisfactory. It is amply clear that mere experience in dyeing is not going to bring these families the money they need to live comfortably. In a thick Marwari-accented Bengali, Salim jokes about his son, a Standard VIII dropout, being the most educated member of his household. Against the light of the setting sun, with the imposing Nakhoda Masjid in the background, it is hard to miss the regret and hopelessness that tinge his laughter.

Gurvinder Singh is a freelance journalist based in Kolkata

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