The Unreasonable Transformers of South India is a stirring chronicle of craft, courage, and climate justice. Through 6,500 kilometres of journeys, Pushpanath Krishnamurthy amplifies the voices of India’s forgotten artisans, defiant, dignified, and determined, who resist extinction and reclaim beauty, survival, and justice in a world chasing speed. Here’s his exclusive interview with Asian Voice.
In your book, you walk through “silence and flood, through red earth and rising heat.” What did the act of walking or physically placing yourself in these landscapes teach you about resistance, and how did it shape your storytelling?
In my journey through silence and flood, across red earth under rising heat, walking became more than movement—it became resistance incarnate. Each step immersed me deeper into landscapes scarred by climate impacts, where communities, like Shorbanu of Bangladesh, wait for justice amidst relentless adversity since 2009. Yet, in their resilience, I found a beacon of hope amidst vulnerability, a spark that fuelled my commitment to storytelling.
These narratives, not of despair but of determination, illuminated paths where resistance transcends mere protest. Entrepreneurs crafting sustainable, ethical business models emerged as pioneers reclaiming local craft and handloom traditions. Their enterprise not only sustains but thrives, challenging the very notion of resistance from defiance to creation. This transformation, from adversity to opportunity, taught me that resistance isn't just about opposing; it's about envisioning and embodying new possibilities
You speak of an “Ahimsa economy”, a slow, ethical, and beauty-infused alternative to the violent haste of today’s markets. Could you expand on what this means in practice and how the changemakers you met embody this ethos?
The “Ahimsa economy” is not a mere concept; it is a way of life, a quiet but resolute resistance to the violence of haste, greed, and unchecked consumption. It draws from the wisdom of Dr. J.C. Kumarappa, who spoke of an "Economy of Permanence" one rooted in self-sufficiency, dignity of labour, and harmony with nature.
In my journey, I saw this vision alive once more. These changemakers, craftspeople, farmers, and weavers build local, self-sustaining economies that remain deeply anchored in the soil of their communities, even as they engage the wider world. Their work is neither extractive nor exploitative. In some cases, such as vegan silk or the efforts of hibiscus Heroes, it offers a truly non-violent alternative to production and trade, embodying the ethics of Ahimsa literally.
Not all efforts may perfectly reflect this ideal, but the spirit is unmistakable: to produce with care, consume with consciousness, and live with restraint. This is Ahimsa in action, gentle in method, strong in conviction, and timeless in relevance
At its heart, your book feels like a quiet rebellion, a call to see dignity not in disruption, but in creation. What do you hope readers take away from this journey, especially those who feel powerless in the face of climate collapse and cultural erasure?
My hope operates at multiple levels. At its core is a celebration of the quiet, ongoing reimagination of the economy, what I refer to as the "wellbeing economy." This is not a theoretical ideal; it is already happening, often silently, on the margins led by artisans, weavers, craftspeople, and small producers who are building sustainable, ethical, and inclusive models of economic life.
In the Indian context, where the dominant model of growth has, for valid historical reasons, focused on large-scale industrialisation and material extraction, we must now confront its limits. Environmental degradation, social inequities, and unsustainable production patterns are symptoms of a system in need of course correction. Many of these unsustainable practices can, and must, be rethought.
This book is a call to policymakers and practitioners: it is time to recognise and invest in the craft, handloom, and handicraft sectors not as relics of the past, but as powerful engines for future growth. Far from being a sunset industry, this sector holds the potential for a trillion-dollar economy, one that delivers on employment, sustainability, equity, and cultural preservation. Indeed, I have mentioned that at many levels the states and the National government have started to see the power of this economy, as many see the future of fashion is in Handcraft.
To readers and consumers: begin by asking simple but transformative questions: who made this, under what conditions, and how are they rewarded?
To policymakers: explore how frameworks and incentives can support this sector and unlock its potential.
To entrepreneurs and business leaders: seek cooperation and collaboration, not just for profit, but to build a broader wellbeing economy, one that aligns with the principles of an Ahimsa economy, rooted in non-exploitation and mutual benefit.
The promise here is not speculative. Organisations such as 200 Million Artisans have documented the scale and capacity of this sector, and every year their Kula Conclave (most recently in Goa, 2024) brings together stakeholders across the value chain, mobilising investment, fostering innovation, and enabling cross-pollination of ideas.
The opportunity is real. The transformation is possible. The time is now.
