One Man, Many Versions

He is a blessing; he is a provider-a section of society has managed to form an emotional connect with Raavan.

- Tarique Anwar

AN imposing fuchsia pink visage of Raavan, having jet black eyes and a big black moustache, stands out.

Placed next to it is an even taller purple-colour bust of Raavan. A man sitting on the pavement-oblivious to the traffic passing by on a regular day in Tatarpur area of West Delhi-is meticulously cutting small pieces of purple craft paper to be pasted on the bust made of bamboo.

Every year, after Rakshabandhan in August, for three months, the entire stretch of two-three kilometres in Tatarpur comes alive. On the pavements, dividers and beneath the metro bridge, hundreds of artisans-ordinary men and women, known as 'Raavanwalas'-are seen giving shape to Raavan's bulging eyes, broad lips and curly moustache. Bamboo frames and vibrant papier mâché depictions of the demon king become a familiar sight. The area virtually becomes Raavan's kingdom. Some even call it the "Lanka of Delhi".

The effigies created by these artisans are in demand on the day of Dussehra, not just in the Delhi-NCR region but also in states like Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan and Punjab. They occasionally attract international buyers as well.

These artisans-some extremely skilled and some amateur, but passionate to learn the craft-practically put their lives on hold for these three months. While some are locals and migrant workers who moved to the national capital for bread and butter, many also arrive from states like Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand and Haryana, especially to make these effigies and in the hope of making extra income. Some make the pavements and dividers in Tatarpur their home.