Ms Scissorhands

“My mother was a vegetable vendor,” she says,her voice never rising. Shakila was the youngest of six siblings and their hand-to-mouth existence contained no artistic possibilities. “I was seven when I met the famous artist,BR Panesar,in the market. He spoke to my mother and told her to send me to school. He even got me admitted to a nearby primary school,where I studied for two-three years. I had to discontinue due to transportation problems,” she says. At 15,she married a vegetable vendor,Akbar Sheikh,and took up the work of making newspaper packets to help run the house.

“One day,I took paper from newspapers and magazines,and began pasting them together to create vegetable shapes such as tomato and papaya,” she says. Thus began an odyssey with paper scraps,movie posters,leaflets,scissors,glue and canvas. Her mentor Panesar,who she calls “baba”,provided the initial feedback. “I have not seen my biological father. He left us and went to Dhaka,Bangladesh,a year after I was born. But I have no regrets. Baba loves me like his own daughter,” she says.

With Panesar’s help,Shakila entered the world of art and gradually created an independent space for herself. Art critics began to notice her unsophisticated approach to life in the works,and,in a few years,Shakila had held six solo exhibitions. En route,the rustic themes of her early collages have become dark and grim. Political undertones line her recent collages,including references to the violence and turmoil of Singur,Nandigram and Junglemahal. The artist is unfazed. “I am always apprehensive whether my creations are good enough. When people appreciate my works,I get a sense of relief,” she says. She has learnt to sign her name in English with great difficulty — a prized scrawl for art lovers across the world.