JANUARY 7: Dolls are not just mere playthings for 50-year-old Vrunda Purohit, they are serious business as her collection of some 60,000 prove. The collection includes wooden dolls and plastic ones, those made of stone or fibre, or of rags and of wool. While some of the more exotic ones have been bought and others presented to her by friends and relatives, the vast majority have been made by Purohit herself. ‘‘When I see a discarded stick, or a cold drink can, I don’t see it as litter. My mind is already working on ways to turn them into dolls.’’So what is a school headmistress and grandmother like Purohit doing with dolls? ‘‘You can call it juvenile but for me it remains a singular passion,’’ she states pointing out how she did not possess any dolls as a child. She explains smiling sadly, ‘‘My father was an ordinary clerk in the BMC. It was difficult for him to make both ends meet and to educate me and my brothers and sisters. The only dolls I saw were the ones my wealthy friends possessed. All through my childhood I wanted a doll with eye-lids that moved but it never happened.’’The desire to possess dolls remained even after marriage.‘‘I had two sons who mocked my attempts to get them interested in dolls. I longed for a daughter so that I could pamper her with dolls.’’ She adds wryly,‘‘Though we could now afford to buy dolls, I felt embarrassed buying one for myself.’’
It wasn’t until her elder son got married that dolls – both the live ones and the playthings – made an appearance. Her granddaughter Anu’s birth 10 years ago brought her tremendous joy. ‘‘I got dolls for her from wherever I went beginning with the traditional wooden doll thakki. A rectangular wooden block carved into a doll and painted, it can also be used as the handle for a manual flour grinding stone or to punish naughty children!†When the limbs of a doll were broken, Purohit would use Plaster of Paris and her imagination to put them back together. From prosthetic limbs, Purohit went on to make new clothes out of scraps. It was while experimenting with knitted outfits that she decided to use the leftover wool to make dolls. ‘‘Once I saw what could be done there was no stopping me. Coir, old brooms, cans and bottles all came in handy as I went on making additions to the collection,’’ she explains.
After her elder son settled abroad her sojourns to the US have seen her bring back many of her, now, prized possessions. Purohit, aji the children in her neighbourhood, allows them free access to her collection. ‘‘If they don’t play what is the use of the dolls?’’