NCERT Solutions for Class 9 English Kaveri Chapter 2 – The Pot Maker

The pictures show skill-based vocations such as pottery, weaving, carpentry and blacksmithy (identify as per your book). Five more vocations: basket weaving, embroidery, shoe making, stone carving and goldsmithy. (Others: tailoring, bamboo craft, dyeing, mat making.)

1. What is common among these pictures? All of them show traditional, skill-based handwork — crafts in which artisans create useful and beautiful things with their own hands, using skills passed down through generations.

2. We refer to such skill-based work as v__ __ a __ __ o __ s. vocations

3. Mention a few differences between handmade and machine-made products. Handmade products are unique — no two pieces are exactly alike — and carry the artisan’s personal skill, time and tradition, though they take longer and often cost more. Machine-made products are identical, produced quickly in large numbers and usually cheaper, but they lack individuality and the human touch.

No, pot making is not easy. The grey and red clay must be carried uphill from a riverbank sixteen kilometres away, down a sheer drop. Pounding the stubborn clay inside bamboo cylinders is tedious, shaping the rotating lump with a spatula demands great skill, and the pots must be carefully dried and fired in a kiln, where over-firing or under-firing can ruin the whole batch. A single batch takes months of labour — and earns only a pittance.

Yes, Sentila seems destined to fulfil her dream. Her passion is deep and steady — she secretly visits expert potters, watches every step of the craft with fascination and refuses to give up even though her mother wants her to learn weaving. Such quiet determination and keen observation are the marks of a true learner, so it is only a matter of time and proper guidance before she succeeds.

Yes. Mesoba defends the family before the village council and even promises that Sentila will soon make the best pots in the village, which shows his faith in her. Arenla’s resistance comes from love — she only wants to spare her daughter the hardship and poverty of the craft — so once she sees Sentila’s genuine passion, she too is likely to teach her, as the elders have also reminded the family of this duty.

Yes, Onula’s support was the turning point. She noticed what a year of training had missed — that Sentila failed because she was too tense, not because she lacked talent. Her kind words, “Don’t worry, little one,” gave Sentila confidence; her demonstration taught her the right method; and her advice to watch how Arenla shaped the mouth of the pot completed the learning. With Onula’s help, Sentila made her first beautiful pot.

It shows that Sentila is a keen observer and a sincere, patient learner. Instead of being discouraged by her failures, she follows Onula’s advice and studies every movement of her mother’s hands — how she held the spatula, slackened the rhythm at the mouth of the pot, and added a strip of dough for the rim. Her watchfulness reflects dedication, humility and a genuine hunger to master the craft.

4 → 6 → 3 → 1 → 8 → 5 → 2 → 9 → 7

A. The process of pot making is quite tiresome and long, and one hardly earns much.

Because weaving earns much more money and also provides enough cloth for the family. It is not messy like pot making, can be done indoors in all seasons, and a shawl takes far less time to make while giving a handsome return.

Weaving can be done indoors in all seasons (it is also cleaner, quicker and more profitable than pot making).

B. They will make a handsome profit selling this property. (Here ‘handsome’ means large in amount, not good-looking.)

The question mark makes the sentence rhetorical and ironic. Arenla pauses to make the listener expect a worthy reward — and then crushes that expectation with “a few rupees”. It emphasises her bitterness at how poorly the months of hard labour are paid.

…Sentila was too tense, and as a result the clay seemed unable or unwilling to yield the right shape.

C. thoughtful and generous — she noticed the girl’s struggle on her own and freely offered her time and skill.

A. “As a result, the clay seemed unable or unwilling to yield the right shape.” (The cause was Sentila’s tension.)

created

She must have felt deeply frustrated, ashamed and disheartened. After years of dreaming and a year of training, her hands still could not shape the clay, and the fallen lump must have looked to her like her own collapsing dream.

1. Describe the process of pot making followed by expert pot makers, as observed by Sentila.
The clay is first mixed with water and pounded. The potter then pushes the left hand into a lump of softened clay and deftly rotates it, shaping the rotating lump with a spatula held in the right hand — the regular tap-tap giving the pot its form. After two or three days the pots get a final touch-up to retain their shape and test their consistency. They are then dried in the sun, loaded on to a kiln in a uniform pattern on a bed of hay and dried bamboo, covered with another layer of the same materials, and fired — with the fire tended carefully, since over-firing or under-firing can ruin the entire batch.

2. What warning was given to Mesoba by the village council?
The elders cautioned Mesoba to remind Arenla that it was her duty to teach her daughter the skill handed down from generation to generation. They declared that skills like pot making, which served the people’s needs and symbolised their tradition and history, did not ‘belong’ to any individual — experts were obliged to pass them on, not only to their own children but to anyone who wished to learn.

3. How did Sentila feel when she failed at pot making even after a year of training with her mother?
She felt ashamed and frustrated — she would hang her head while her mother silently took over and turned the same lump into a beautiful pot. Yet her failures never killed her passion; she kept practising secretly in the dormitory, which shows that beneath the frustration her determination remained alive.

4. ‘Onula stood there for a long time as if trying to absorb a new phenomenon.’ Explain.
Inside the work shed Onula saw two neat rows of newly made pots so perfectly alike that nothing could tell one batch from the other — yet she knew they were made by two different hands, mother and daughter. She realised that at the very moment of Arenla’s death, her art had passed completely into Sentila. This silent, almost mystical transfer of a generation’s skill felt to her like a profound revelation, a wonder she needed time to absorb.

5. ‘The tradition and history of the people did not belong to any individual.’ What does this symbolise?
It symbolises that traditional crafts are the collective heritage of the whole community, not private property. An expert is only a trustee of the skill for one generation; she holds it on behalf of her people and is duty-bound to hand it on. The craft carries the community’s identity and history, which must never be allowed to die with one person.

6. What is the significance of the concluding line of the story, ‘A new pot maker was born’?
The line completes the story’s circle. At the very moment the village loses its master potter, her successor quietly emerges — the tradition does not break, it is reborn. It also marks Sentila’s transformation: the clumsy, tense learner has become a true artist whose pots cannot be told apart from her mother’s. Birth and death stand side by side in one sentence, giving the ending both sorrow and hope.

7. What is the role of perseverance in pursuing one’s dreams? Elaborate with reference to Sentila.
Perseverance turns passion into mastery. Sentila dreams of pottery from childhood, watches experts secretly for years, endures her mother’s refusal, fails continuously for a whole year, and still does not give up. She accepts Onula’s guidance humbly, studies her mother’s hands carefully and keeps practising until, one sunny day, the skill finally flows through her own fingers. Without her quiet persistence, neither talent nor tradition could have made her a pot maker; her story proves that dreams are fulfilled not by wishing but by refusing to stop trying.

(i) The elders emphasised that traditional skills did not belong to any individual and had to be passed on.
(ii) Mesoba explained why Arenla had not yet taught Sentila pot making — they wanted her to grow stronger after her illness.
(iii) Onula’s promise was that she would teach Sentila how to make a perfect pot.
(iv) Sentila observed her mother carefully when she was shaping the mouth of the pot, which helped her master the most difficult step of the craft.
(v) The kiln, where the pots were fired on a bed of hay and dried bamboo, required careful attention to prevent over-or-under firing.

(i) Main clause: Arenla took Sentila to the riverbank; subordinate (relative) clause: where the grey and red clay was found.
(ii) Main clause: She started on the next one; subordinate clause: who had suddenly found momentum (describing the sprinter).
(iii) Main clause: skills such as pot making (did not belong to any individual); subordinate clause: which not only catered to the needs of the people.

(i) Sentila, whose passion for pottery had never faded, practised the craft diligently.
(ii) The village council, where the elders met to settle important matters, sought an explanation for Arenla’s reluctance.
(iii) The potter’s hands, which moved with practised rhythm and skill, shaped the clay into beautiful creations.
(iv) Arenla, her mother, wanted her to learn weaving, which earned more money and provided cloth for the family.
(v) Mesoba went home and discussed the matter with Arenla, who finally agreed to teach their daughter the next year.

From the text: the (the riverbank), a (a pot), her (her basket), his (his shop… her carrying basket), this (this place of wonder), some (some clay), many (as many pots), any (any individual), every (every possible way), enough (enough days of sunshine), two (two neat rows), one (one short of her mother’s tally).

A. The florist arranged five bouquets for her clients, that were displayed in her elegant floral shop.
B. The carpenter crafted several unique tables, and one became the centrepiece in his furniture collection.
C. Each of the apprentices in the culinary class demonstrated their knife skills during the intense cooking session.
D. Some of the sculptures were displayed at the art exhibition, showcasing their diverse artistic skills.

A statue is carved to create a shape that is 1. visually interesting (three-dimensional). Among the many things stone is used for, making stone 2. sculptures is one of them. India has some of the most 3. fascinating and mesmerising stone sculptures, as is obvious from its many stone monuments across the country.

Correct steps: 1 (carve to remove large unwanted portions of the stone), 3 (measure the weight and dimensions of the statue), 5 (refine the creation within the stone), 6 (choose the stone), 8 (detach the creation from the stone as the final statue) and 9 (work to bring out the imagined shape).
Not mentioned: 2 (set up the different tools), 4 (leave the statue in water overnight) and 7 (begin carving from the centre).

Sentila: Mother, when you said you would never teach me pot making, it made me feel lost, because shaping clay is the only dream I have ever had.
Arenla: I felt afraid, my child — the riverbank is sixteen kilometres away, my back aches from the loads, and months of labour bring only a few rupees. I wished a softer life for you, with the loom.
Sentila: But when I watch the pot rise out of a shapeless lump, the tap-tap of the spatula is music to me. I feel I was born for this.
Arenla: The elders say the craft belongs to our people, not to me alone. If your heart is so set, then watch my hands carefully — especially when I shape the mouth of the pot — and I will teach you everything I know.
Sentila: Thank you, mother. I will work harder than anybody, and one day my pots will stand beside yours so that no one can tell them apart.

My Skills and My Passion
Introduction: Ever since I painted my first poster in Class 4, art has been the activity in which I lose all sense of time. Sketching and painting are meaningful to me because they let me say things that words cannot.
Describing skills: I nurture this skill through a weekend art class, by maintaining a daily sketchbook, and by taking part in school exhibitions and online drawing challenges. Recently I have begun learning digital illustration on a tablet.
Passion into profession: I believe illustration and design have real career potential — books, advertising, animation and apps all need artists. My patience with detail and my habit of observing people, like Sentila observing the potters, are my biggest advantages.
Examples and reflection: Last year my poster on water conservation won the district competition, and our teacher used my diagrams in class. These moments showed me that my art can inform and inspire others, and they have shaped my ambition to study design after school.
Conclusion: This reflection has taught me that my passion and my skills feed each other: the more I practise, the deeper my love for art grows. With steady effort, I hope to turn this passion into my profession.

Review: ‘Quality’ by John Galsworthy
‘Quality’ is the portrait of Mr Gessler, a German bootmaker in London who makes only ordered boots — boots that fit perfectly and last for years, because to him bootmaking is an art (“Id is an ardt!”). While big firms snatch customers through advertisement rather than workmanship, Gessler refuses to compromise: the best leather, every stitch his own, no helper allowed to touch his boots. Orders dwindle, his brother dies of grief, and Gessler himself dies of slow starvation — having spent everything on rent and leather — just after making the finest boots of his life. The story is a quiet tragedy of integrity: like Arenla’s pot making in ‘The Pot Maker’, it shows a handcraft losing its livelihood to mass production, and asks what the world loses when the last true craftsman dies. Galsworthy’s restrained narration and the shop “restful as a church” stay with the reader long after the heartbreaking last line — “he made good boots.” A must-read companion to our chapter, perfect for a presentation on traditional skills versus industrialisation.

Q1. Why did Sentila keep her passion for pot making a secret? (30–40 words)
She had overheard her mother telling her father that pot making brought only exhaustion and a pittance, and that she would never teach it to Sentila. Fearing refusal, Sentila hid her fascination and learnt by secretly watching expert potters.

Q2. Who was Onula? How did she help Sentila? (30–40 words)
Onula was the kind, middle-aged widow who supervised the girls’ dormitory. Noticing that tension made Sentila’s hands clumsy, she taught her to relax, showed her how to fashion a pot, and advised her to watch her mother shape the pot’s mouth.

Q3. What did Onula see in the work shed after Arenla’s death? (30–40 words)
She saw two neat rows of newly made, still-moist pots standing in perfect symmetry — so alike that nothing could tell one batch from the other. She sensed that the mother’s art had passed wholly into the daughter.

Q4. Compare Arenla’s attitude and the village elders’ attitude towards traditional skills. (100–120 words)
Arenla sees pot making through the lens of her own suffering: the sixteen-kilometre trudge for clay, the aching back, the tedious pounding and the pitiful earnings. To her, the craft is a burden she loves her daughter too much to pass on, and weaving is the sensible, profitable alternative. The elders see the same craft from the community’s side: pot making serves the people’s needs and embodies their tradition and history, so it “belongs” to no individual. An expert is duty-bound to transmit it to the next generation and to anyone who wishes to learn. The story honours both views — a mother’s protective love and a community’s claim on its heritage — and resolves them through Sentila, who inherits the art willingly.

Q5. The ending of ‘The Pot Maker’ is both tragic and hopeful. Discuss. (100–120 words)
The ending is tragic because Arenla dies on the very day her daughter finally masters the craft — mother and daughter never share the joy of that success, and Sentila is left crying for forgiveness behind the funeral procession, as if her gain had somehow cost her mother’s life. Yet the ending is equally hopeful: in the work shed stand two identical rows of pots, proof that the art has not died but has been reborn in younger hands. The village that feared losing its expert potter has quietly received a new one. The final line — “A new pot maker was born” — places birth beside death, turning grief into continuity and loss into legacy.