Text by Shirin Mehta. Styling by Sarah Rajkotwala. Art direction by Aishwaryashree
I am inescapably drawn to pottery. Is it because the thought often strikes me that these artefacts of clay are culled from the very dust that we are made from? Is it because these objects connect me to the earth itself, to the very creation of man, to death and renewal? Or because there is something so basically nourishing about vessels made originally to store food and water, symbolising the fundamentals of human life? All these, yes, as also the skills displayed by their makers. And the perfection often inherent in silhouettes so marvellously shaped. Isn’t there something almost primal in the process of working with mud – of getting your hands downright dirty and sculpting matter to your will?
Shards of pottery that survived the Indus Valley and Harappan civilisations have…
