Aditi Chakraborty
As we drove along the recently renovated road to Chandanadi’s residence, in Prantik near Santiniketan, aptly named Istationer Pashey, random memories rushed to my mind. It was here I finally got the opportunity to be up close with her larger-than-life personality. I didn’t visit Prantik very often, but every time I got associated with her, it changed the very way I perceived my life. I had visited her residence in Hyderabad on numerous occasions in the past. Whether it was a painting exhibition at her art gallery Pegasus, or a gathering at home to celebrate an occasion, she would be surrounded by people from various fields and seemed beyond my reach. However, invariably shifting her attention from the important people around her to an insignificant me she would call out, “Aditi, chole esho, bosho!”
Chandanadi’s creative persona was always overflowing with ideas to do something new. Whether it was her dream project of building ‘Margin to Mainstream’ or her life as a visual artist, Chandanadi has always been a visionary like no other. My first visit to Chandanadi’s home in Hyderabad still lingers as a vivid image in my heart.
As I climbed up the stairs to the upper floor gathering and looked around at the paintings on the adjacent wall, it seemed as if each step on that staircase was a journey through her creative soul, with her paintings breathing life into the walls. There was one particular painting that stood out to me. It was an abstract artwork of an elderly couple. The painting carried a depth of emotion that would draw you in. Their expressions in the eyes, the setting, and the colours that Chandanadi had dabbled with seemed like a piece that told a story of love, resilience, or perhaps time itself. Chandanadi's paintings always captured the essence, reflecting her creative spirit and unique perspective. That painting of the elderly couple, in particular, might not just be a visual representation but a window into a world she imagined or cherished. It felt incredibly personal to witness her creativity so vividly expressed. That's the beauty of art—it's not always about technical perfection but the emotion and imagination it conveys.
I also found her ability to believe and move forward in an uninhibited manner - awe-inspiring. Her trust in me to train the women and young girls from the surrounding tribal villages of Santiniketan to bake cakes and pizzas, even after considering the challenges we were likely to meet while conducting the baking workshops made me dream of doing the unthinkable. Amongst all these serious thoughts, I remember an anecdote from one of my trips to Shantiniketan. I always considered Didi as a solemn person, seldom displaying her emotions in public. One winter morning during our quiet tea sessions, Didi was engrossed in the newspaper in her backyard garden. She received a video call from her family in Hyderabad. And in no time Chandanadi turned into the affectionate grandmother cooing out to her then-tiny grandson. I admired what I had just witnessed, a new side of Chandanadi’s persona.
Some people come into our lives as quiet guides, leading us through pivotal moments without realizing it. Their influence may be subtle or profound but they help us see things from new perspectives, make better choices, or inspire us to keep going. To me, Chandanadi was a true champion of even the most inconsequential beings.
(The writer is a home baker and as a key member of the Margin to Mainstream team, she works towards the empowerment of rural women.)