Gopal Dey and Lokkhi Rani Dey of Kuarpar village weave on average, 10 shitol patis (cool mats) a month, earning about R3,000. The couple says weaving items from strands of murta (Schumannianthus dichotomus) for a couple of hours every day is a part of their routine (Photographs courtesy: Sayantani Deb)
Environment

A legacy unravels

With Assam’s shitol pati mats finding few takers, the traditional weaving art form is slowly losing its practitioners

Sayantani Deb

A century ago, there was a huge demand for shitol pati (cool mats) made of murta plants because they were one of the most effective ways to beat the heat during summers. Considering it a profitable venture, my grandfather, Rai Mohan Dey, learnt this weaving art form and began production in the 1920s,” says Nirmal Dey.

“However, with the advent of cooling appliances, such as ceiling fans and air conditioners, shitol pati slowly started losing popularity, bringing uncertainty into the lives of patikars (mat weavers) for whom the traditional craft is not just a source of livelihood but a cultural identity,” says the Assam Gaurav awardee, living in Cachar district’s Kuarpar village. The village is one of the many in the Barak Valley where the handicraft is practised.

For generations, artisans like Dey, who is in his sixties, have weaved mats from strands of murta (Schumannianthus dichotomus). The cane-like shrub grows well near wet areas and riverbanks. Since the plant fibre is breathable, it traps minimal body heat. The woven strands also allow air to pass through. Though shitol patis are mostly used on the floor as sitting mats, they are also spread on top of bedsheet. Traditionally associated with Bangladesh, the handicraft flourished in the Barak Valley due to its geographical proximity with the neighbouring country.

Dey still spends his whole day sitting in his veranda, peeling the green stems of murta into thin flexible strands. But all is not well. “Teen purush er shitol patir bebosha akhon r bhala chole na go didi (Our three-generation business is not doing well),” he says. “A shitol pati that sold for around Rs 5,000 about five years ago now barely fetches Rs 3,000,” says Dey. “With most young people not finding the job viable due to low remuneration, only senior citizens and a few women in the village continue with this profession,” he adds.

A murta handbag

Take the case of Gopal Dey, 58, and his wife Lokkhi Rani Dey, 53. The couple weaves around 10 shitol patis a month and earns Rs 2,500-Rs 3,000. However, their sons— Nandalal Dey, 33, and Nalin Chandra Dey, 30, have left the village to work in Dimapur, a commercial hub in Nagaland. “I wanted at least one of my sons to continue this business, but seeing the decline in the market, I realised they were making the correct decision,” says Gopal.

The journey of 27-year-old Debashis Dey of Kalinagar-III village is similar. After graduation, he tried to earn a living through the generations-old craft but soon realised that the returns were too little. “I moved out in search of a better livelihood,” says Debashis, who now works as a life insurance advisor in Bengaluru, Karnataka. “Although the work is demanding, it gives me stability to support my family back home,” he says.

INPUT SCARCITY

Manabendra Dey, a social worker based in Cachar, highlights the scarcity of raw materials as a major concern. “The craft of making pati entirely depends on the availability of murta, but it is becoming difficult to get,” he says.

The plants take three to five years to grow and require a large area for cultivation. Mostly, artisans or interested farmers grow the plants. “The younger generation does not have the patience to wait for such a long period. In addition, increasing population has re-duced the availability of land,” Manabendra Dey explains. “About a decade ago, India used to export around 200 kg of shitol pati to countries like the US and the UK, with a significant contribution from the Barak Valley. However, exports have now declined considerably. Export to Bangladesh has also been adversely affected since 2024 due to geopolitical reasons,” he adds.

(Left) Nirmal Dey peels and prepares murta stems for weaving. An Assam Gaurav Awardee living in Cachar district’s Kuarpar village, Dey learnt the art from his father, Gopal Chandra Dey, and began weaving at the age of 10; (right) Biswajit Dey is from the same village and despite being passionate about the traditional art form, left Kuarpar for a better livelihood. For the past seven years, he has worked as a technician at a private company in Goa

“The government has paid little attention to the challenges faced by patikars. Artisans have not received any financial assistance or subsidies for their products,” complains Dinesh Chandra Dey, secretary of the Katakhal Patikar Cooperative Society, established in 1954. “Around 15 years ago, the Katakhal Patikar Cooperative provided training to a group of women, who subsequently began making products such as file folders, mobile covers and belt bags from shitol pati.

Presently, only a handful of women weave these items com-pletely on an individual level as per the demand,” says Manju Patikar, an artisan based in Hailakandi district. “The cooperative earlier used to extend financial assistance to artisans for pur-chase of raw materials. Artisans would repay the amount from the money earned through sales. With limited resources, it has become difficult for us to provide that level of support,” he says Dinesh Chandra Dey.

So far, no non-profits or startups have been actively helping murta artisans in the valley. However, Keshab Smarak Sanskriti Surabhi, a Cachar-based non-profit, is set to collaborate with local artisans to diversify their product range to include items such as bags and file folders. Sajal Deb, project director, tells Down To Earth that full-fledged work is expected to start by the end of this year. “Financial support will be provided by the state government,” he adds.