The rains have commenced. As every Goan knows, this is the time for work in the fields. Ploughs are dragged out. Oxen get extra rations. Women covered in plastic sheets gear up to plant paddy, working ankle deep in water without complaint. Goans revel at the sight of farmers ploughing fields as they pass them in their transport to cities for work during the day. At night, the din of chanting frogs provides reassurance that nature has completed one more cycle and started another.

One man in Bardez, however, loses his sleep during the crucial months of May and June just prior to the start of field work: Mohan Chari, Parra’s blacksmith. Forty-eight year old Mohan manufactures and repairs metal ploughs. He’s been doing this work since the age of 17. His customers come from near and far to find him, not just from around Bardez, but from Pednem and Salcette as well. When something goes wrong with a plough, he is bound to repair it, even if the farmer turns up at night. Ploughing cannot wait.

Ploughs that need substantial repair trickle in throughout the month of May and by the end of the month a forest of them can be see in his shack, each with the name of the farmer and the village written neatly on it in chalk. These two months, Mohan has repaired more than a hundred ploughs and made a dozen new ones. Farmers who come to see him recall their fathers coming to see his father about the same business: ordering a new plough or having an old one repaired.

The Chari family of Parra is the original inventor of the present, extensively used metal plough of Bardez. The first piece was made by Bhikaro Mest, Mohan’s grandfather’s brother or granduncle, during Portuguese days. Kirloskar’s had introduced an Indian version of a European plough in the Indian market. Khikaro Mest bought himself a piece. The old plough is still in the shed: its only concession to time has been some scarring due to rust. From this piece, the Bardez plough was born.

The Chari family is still referred to as “Bhikaro Mestager”. Mohan’s father, Shankar Dattaram Chari, Mohan and his brother Santosh – who works with him in the smithy – were brought up in the working traditions of Bhikaro Mest. His grandfather had expired when he was merely two.

The pure metal plough of the Charis, when it was first made nearly a hundred years ago, cost farmers the princely sum of three and a half rupees. Today, the same model costs Rs.2500, due to the high costs of iron in the market. Each plough made by the Charis, if carefully maintained, will last a minimum of 30 years.

Farmers were reluctant at first to switch from the wooden to the metal plough because they were worried the metal tip might hurt the oxen’s hind legs during ploughing. Today, the wooden plough is almost extinct, except in areas like Sattari.

When I sit with Mohan on a rainy day, in front of the bellows, I can see that all the equipment he needs to manufacture a new plough is available within the shack: the hammer; the anvil; the charcoal; the bellows. He purchases the iron sheets, nuts and rivets from the market. The metal parts are first cut according to a standard form, then hammered into shape after the metal is made red-hot over the coals. Sometimes his wife will turn the wheel that supplies air to the small open furnace fed with charcoal, sometimes a passer-by or neighbour. This is an honourable profession that can be found in any Goan or Indian village. The Charis have survived because they provide a service which Government agencies or private companies have never been able to master: producing low cost, well adapted tools that meet the specific individual requirements of their customers – and their animals.

The technical ingenuity of this craftsman is amazing. I never knew, for example, that some oxen refuse to turn left when ploughing a field, so for their owners Chari will design a plough that attaches to the right side of the handle with a curvature in reverse. Ploughs are made to suit the height of the animals (small or large). Different soils (clayey, sandy) demand a different design. Chari can also manufacture and repair 100% wooden ploughs. These are works of art. A wooden plough is assembled from wooden parts crafted and assembled so precisely that none of them will shift or dislodge under the hard pressures of ploughing, since no nails can be used.

What happens in the Chari household when the ploughing season ends? They shift to other jobs: metal work including the ever popular window grill and gate, vehicle repairs, name-plating on marble (a trade kept exclusively for Pradeep, the third brother), carpentry including doors and lintels, and a host of other miscellaneous jobwork including dog cages for animal shelters. Mohan’s garage is the only repair shop for the four bullock carts still functioning in the village. His knowledge of the qualities of wood and metal is awesome. Mohan went to school till the tenth standard, but he learnt nothing of his art there including his very precise techniques of measurement. There is no job work in wood or metal that the Charis cannot handle with total confidence. We normally come across people that are a jack-of-all-trades and master of none. The Charis of Parra are masters of several.

“We have to do something, or we won’t survive,” is how Chari sums up his profession – a hard lifetime of work servicing villagers. The Agriculture Department may shut down or the Government may go: they will not be missed; but no agriculture in Goa will continue without people like Mohan Chari. Outstanding farmers are identified for awards year after year, but skilled blacksmiths and carpenters like Mohan – who service them with dedication and accomplished skill over several decades – still remain to be recognized, let alone celebrated. For some reasons I am not able to fathom, our society continues to be preoccupied with the antics of the rich and the beautiful ad nauseam. And we talk so glibly of the aam aadmi!

(For those who want to know more about the blacksmith trade, call Mohan Chari on 9921461650.)