This is the first time I’ve sat up at my computer for more than 10 minutes since I was smacked in the face with Dengue Fever. I’ll write more about that experience later, but I figure I’ve got the strength to crank out one post, and I want to show you our spectacular wall painting.

Browsing at the Surajkund Mela last February, I enjoyed everything the handicrafts fair had to offer. I was especially attracted to Madhubani Painting, a colorful 2-dimensional folk art from the Indian state of Bihar. Many artists had their work on display, but I was drawn to the paintings of Sarita Devi, whose card listed a studio not far from our Delhi home.

After the furniture delivery debacle that gouged up our foyer wall a few months ago, I dug out Sarita Devi’s card and wrote an email asking if she would be interested in painting our wall. Someone with broken English wrote back with a collection of paintings to consider. I picked my favorite parts of several different paintings and then invited the artist to visit our home.

Thinking Sarita Devi was coming, I was surprised to get a phone call from a young man asking, “Please tell me the landmark to find your house.” I tried to explain, but that phrase was apparently the extent of his English. Ultimately, I walked a couple blocks to meet him at a restaurant. Two men – early 20s, I guessed – approached me. “Are you …?” I didn’t want to plant the seed if these were just random men, but one of them finally finished my sentence. “We are from Mithila Madhubani Painting.” OK.
“So, are you the artist?” I asked one of the boys.
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you also an artist?” I asked the other.
“Yes,” he said.
I think I could have asked anything, and they would have said, “yes.”
“Umm… I thought Sarita Devi was coming,” I said.
“Yes, my mother,” said one of the boys, whose name was Neeraj.
At my house, Neeraj looked at the printouts of the paintings, and I showed him the wall to be painted.
Tony and I tried with minimal success to discuss the project with the two young men. We figured out Neeraj’s friend was along as a translator, but his English was only marginally better than my nonexistent Hindi. I couldn’t help wondering if these guys were actually just casing our apartment (expat paranoia often steps in to fill the void created by an insurmountable language barrier). Ultimately, we scheduled another visit for a time when my housekeeper Raji would be there. That visit turned out to be more fruitful. Raji clarified our expectations and helped create a schedule for the artists.

Sarita Devi, Neeraj, and usually two or three others crouched in our narrow foyer for up to 10 hours a day, sketching and painting the elaborate scene. One day I got an email from Neeraj asking if they could add some squirrels. Why not?

Tony and I loved coming home every day to see what they had accomplished. The whole painting took 10 days.
They did a great job working around this ugly light switch and the clunky doorbell.

That’s Sarita Devi in the back, painting with her daughter.

The artists pose with the finished wall. Sarita Devi with her three kids, Deepa, Ashish and Neeraj.

This is what you see when you walk in our front door.

One of the squirrels. Ha!

Love the fish.

The pink circles are nests, and the jellybeans are actually mangoes. “It’s a mango tree,” Neeraj explained.

He pointed to this black bird and said, “Crow.” Pointing to the two fancy birds in the middle, he said, “Peacock.” When I asked about all the other birds, he pointed to each one and said, “Bird, bird, bird.” Ohhhhh … duh.

The light switch practically disappeared into the scene!

Sarita Devi signed the wall with her name, the date and … phone number.

We know we can’t take this artwork with us when we leave India (although we have the mock-up painting on paper). However, every time we come home to our Delhi apartment, that crazy wall of whimsy makes us smile.