The bride-to-be is seated on a raised platform by a pavement in Gandhipuram, watching two mehendi artists work on her hands and feet. Her wedding is two days away, and she looks on as N Vijay and his colleague create intricate patterns using a cone filled with henna leaves paste. In 30 minutes, her feet and hands are done up in ornate designs, all the way up to her elbows. “They are fast at it, and can recreate any pattern we ask for,” says M Brindha, engrossed in the finished design on her hands. She is thrilled. Vijay moves on to his next customer.
Gandhipuram alone has over 50 such artists from villages in and around Agra, all of them trained in mehendi art. They can be found seated on plastic stools in front of textile showrooms on Cross Cut Road; there are over 10 of them working from inside Lakshmi Complex alone. Vijay, who is from Agra in Uttar Pradesh, trained for six months at an academy in Punjab, and has been working in the city for 12 years now.
Chitrapal Singh, who works at Lakshmi Complex, was the first artist from Agra to arrive in the city with mehendi dreams. He has been working here for 15 years. Initially, he went around the neighbourhood on a bicycle carrying ink and wooden blocks with designs carved into them. He eventually switched to working with henna. N Suresh Kumar, his relative from the same town, followed him to the city.
These men have left behind their ancestral homes, paddy and wheat fields, and in many cases, their family at their hometown for a better livelihood. They have picked up Tamil, and some of them, such as 52-year-old Suresh Kumar, have settled in the city with wife and children.
“Several men from villages in and around Agra are settled in places such as Tiruppur, Erode, Salem and Pollachi, apart from Coimbatore to work as mehend artists,” says Suresh. The men — who trained under relatives practising in States such as Punjab and Rajasthan, or at mehendi academies — charge ₹50 for a simple design, and up to ₹2000 for intricate patterns for brides. The best part: they can render even the most complicated of designs in under 30 minutes. They also travel to wedding halls or to houses of the bride and groom based on order, to work.
Another artist N Rajiv Kumar talks about a protective ecosystem within the city, among people from Agra. “All of us are either friends or relatives and look out for each other,” he says. He speaks of support from his workplace too, pointing to the textiles shop at Lakshmi Complex in front of which he sits at. “I pitch in when they need help with customers since they help me with a place to work,” he adds.
The 34-year-old has been involved in the art for 15 years. “Initially, I would practice on advertisement pamphlets,” he says, adding: “I then proceeded to do mehendi for free for children who came shopping with their parents.” This, he says, helped hone his craft. Rajiv has two children, aged six and two; his family is at his hometown. “I travel to be with them during the off-season period here,” he adds.
A late afternoon lull creeps in and most of the artists are waiting for customers to start trickling in. Rajiv gets on a call with his family, while Chitrapal watches a Hindi song on his phone. Suresh mutters about having only one customer in three days since the wedding season is almost over. Does he miss home? “Home?” he asks. “This city is my home now.”
