KOLKATA: Bapi Das recalls being nervous during an evening party at the Grand Hyatt marking the opening of the Kochi-Muziris Biennale in December. “I couldn’t really talk to everyone. It was my fault, I don’t speak English,” says Das, seated on a low stool in his one-room tenement in a crowded lane in Kolkata ’s Narkeldanga A bed occupies most of the 135 sq ft room, which also doubles as kitchen, dining and living room. One corner of the room, which he shares with his mother, is his work area, with tools and other paraphernalia used for his art . There could not be a greater contrast between this cramped space with its mottled yellow walls and Aspinwall House in Fort Kochi, the sprawling 19th century property where Das’s works are on display. Yet, these two worlds met in the fourth edition of the Kochi-Muziris Biennale, underpinning its theme of Possibilities for a Non-Alienated Life.Some of Das’s works at the biennale, which began on December 12 and will go on till March 29, take inspiration from his vantage point behind the handlebar of the autorickshaw he drives through Kolkata’s streets. Others are from an older time when people used to send letters, and speak of fragments of memories. To understand the intricacies of his work, you would have to pick up the magnifying glass hung near the frames. For, Das’s medium is threads, that too the gossamer-like ones he takes out of dupattas. This enables him to add the subtlest of details into each work, such as the fading seal of the postal department on an envelope or the 1,500 raindrops on an autorickshaw windscreen. A closer look reveals the painstaking effort that goes into his works, each of which takes at least four months.Das admits he had not heard about the event that draws artists and visitors from all over the world when Anita Dube, the curator of the Kochi-Muziris Biennale, invited him. “I don’t have a lot of knowledge about the art world. When I was told I was selected, I took it very casually,” says the 39-year-old, who is also employed on contract as a gardener by the Kolkata Municipal Corporation (KMC). “But when I got there and saw the kind of space where it was being exhibited, I was very happy. I cannot express what the biennale means to me.”He developed an interest in art during his childhood. But when his father abandoned the family, Das had to drop out of school to supplement his mother’s earnings as a maid. He started by helping make steel cupboards. An acquaintanceship with Kolkata-based artist Avijit Dutta, struck up during volleyball games in the neighbourhood, helped him develop his talent. Das says he owes everything to Dutta, who now guides him in everything, down to the material of the shirt he is wearing. While he was under Dutta's tutelage, he began thinking about how to make his work unique. That was when a friend showed him images of thread paintings from Darjeeling's Ava Art Gallery. "I spent six months thinking about how I could use that technique to give my works a 3D effect, to get different kinds of shades," says Das. His mother, Kamala, interjects to point out that till then, he had never sewn even a button. "His sister and I used to make fun of him, asking him why he was stuck inside the house doing this instead of going out like other boys," she says.In 2014, Das showcased some of his works at Dutta's group exhibition, which featured established artists such as Paresh Maity. Dutta also helped him exhibit at Hyderabad's Krishnakriti Festival, where his work caught the eye of Biennale founder Bose Krishnamachari and Dube. "He has an incredible sense of his own person, from where he is looking at the world behind the screen of the autorickshaw. He has a great understanding of colour and form - it is such a shock that he has had no formal training," says Dube.Dutta's telling of it is slightly different. "Technically, the works are well-composed because of my guidance. But he is a fast learner and his work is sensitive and powerful." He plans to take Das with him to see the Venice Biennale this year. Das says talks are also under way for his works to be shown in France and London. Kalakriti Art Gallery is handling sales discussions. His eight works cumulatively command Rs 28 lakh. Dube says some are likely to be picked up by billionaire art collector Kiran Nadar. That would help Das move to a house where his works are not in danger of being damaged by cooking smoke and rats - a reprieve from the days of being unable to afford the Rs 20 a month his neighbourhood art teacher used to charge. Dube strikes a note of caution on the road ahead for Das. "It would be terrible if the whole world suddenly descends on him and destroys him. He should be allowed to work peacefully." For now, Das has stopped driving the autorickshaw to spend time on his art, subsisting on the Rs 9,000 he draws from KMC. The time might soon come when he can finally afford to give that up, too, to focus solely on creating art.