In a lane off the bustling 90 Feet Road in Dharavi, there is a tiny studio dedicated to all types of screen printing. A row of potted plants points to the entrance of JK Arts, and in a corner of the porch lies a pile of freshly printed papers waiting to be picked up. Inside, hugging the walls, are more stacks of paper with just enough room to manoeuvre to the back of the space, where Mani and Laxmi expertly handle the screenprinting needs of customers looking to print invitation cards for weddings, restaurant menus, company logos on canvas tote bags and all sorts of things too unwieldy for a digital printer. 

Both Mani and Laxmi hail from a small town near Kanyakumari, Tamil Nadu, that specialises in printing technology. They claim that all the printing businesses in Dharavi have some connection to their town. The owner of JK Arts, Raju Anna, who pops in and out of the studio, also hails from the same place. Although Laxmi and Mani are not relatives, a craft associated with their hometown at the southernmost tip of India ties them together in Dharavi. 

Laxmi does not speak much Hindi and relies on Mani to help her communicate with us. An arranged marriage to a man from her hometown, based in Dharavi, brought her here. Not long after their wedding, at the age of 28, Laxmi was tragically widowed and had to fend for herself. Through connections from back home, she found employment at JK Arts and has been in the screenprinting industry ever since. She is now 70 years old. A quiet poise and a warm, toothy smile characterise her presence. Her enduring career has exposed her to every step of the screenprinting process. In her younger days, she would press out the prints. She doesn’t have the strength for this anymore. Her task now is to place the prints on light wooden drying racks, which she carefully stacks one on top of the other. 

Mani is a witty, well-built man in his thirties, energetically attuned to the steady staccato of the printing press. Born and raised in Dharavi, he began his apprenticeship in the industry at the impressionable age of eight. 23 years later, he has developed the ability to have an unerring focus on the task at hand, from preparing and washing screens to pressing out prints, all while carrying on an engagingly humorous conversation. He sits up a little taller when he talks about his wife, who is highly educated and works as a nurse. He tells us that it was love at first sight, and jokes about his predicament after marriage. His wife’s long working hours meant that it was up to him to run the household. He manages all the chores, including cooking and cleaning. Jokes aside, he gives the impression of someone unbothered by the swapping of traditional gender roles. He proudly states that out of the 30 days in a month, he cooks on 20, and his wife cooks on 10. 

It is ironic that while Mani is adept at printing hundreds of invitations, announcements and banners, he cannot read or write. He relies on a strong visual sense to make sure that not a single letter is misprinted. He credits Dharavi with the skill he has acquired and the ease with which he can monetise it within her web of artisanal industries. When the conversation turns towards the Dharavi Redevelopment Project, he simply shrugs and says that if it comes to pass, he will escape to Chennai to avoid entrapment in Dharavi’s new avatar. A contemplative silence dawns as each one imagines what this would be like. 

The overpowering smell of ink and thinner brings us back to the studio, back to Laxmi and Mani ceaselessly printing 600 wedding invitations as a Tamil evangelist sermonises in a YouTube video playing in the background. A young customer comes in to collect his order of brown paper bags, closely inspecting each one to ensure the logo of his new restaurant is printed perfectly. Satisfied, he stuffs them into a plastic gunny bag, pays up and leaves, promising to return with more orders for a new venture he plans to launch in a month. Mani assures him that as long as Dharavi exists, he will find the duo at the studio, ready to help, their printing paraphernalia and humour at hand.