Shaping a goddess

Image
Kavita Chowdhury New Delhi
Last Updated : Jan 21 2013 | 12:40 AM IST

For over a century, sculptors from a congested colony in Kolkata have been breathing life into clay, wood and straw.

You could drive past it blissfully unaware of the divine beings taking shape in its nondescript bylanes, but to a keen observer Kumartuli, or the ‘potters colony’, in north Kolkata is a haven of ‘earthly delight’.

For over a century, the sculptors called “Pals” have breathed life into the clay (ganga maati) from the adjoining Ganga, metamorphosing it into idols of innumerable gods from the Hindu pantheon. The buzz in this potters’ colony now is around Durga Puja — the celebrations for the mother goddess’s annual homecoming. The majestic Durga images before which awestruck devotees bow their heads are sculpted under the blue tarpaulin-covered cramped tin sheds.

Babu Pal who has been an artisan at Kumartuli for over 18 years says, “I have been doing this for as long as I can remember; since I was eight.” Elaborating on his expertise, he says, “This skill has been handed down through generations. As a child learns the Bengali alphabet gradually over the years, I too have mastered my art over the years guided by my father.”

It’s amazing how as many as 250 units with 9,000 skillful artisans have found space in these dingy, inaccessible lanes. Peeking out from one of these tin sheds is a bundled straw image tied to a wooden frame — it’s in the first stage of idol-making. The basic structure which gives shape to the magnificent idol comprises only wood, straw and rope.

It’s only in the second stage that clay is applied gradually in layers. The headless idol is then left to dry and the cracks that appear on the drying clay are carefully smoothed over. The quintessential charm of Kumartuli’s lanes is that it’s only here that can one bump into a potbellied Ganesha or a charming Kartick astride his peacock basking in the sun.

While traditional methods of idol-making have largely remained unchanged, subtle modifications have crept in. The increasing demand for Durga idols, not just for the domestic market but for community pujas abroad, has now led to the adoption of certain factory-like production techniques. The head of the goddess, along with the palms and feet, is fashioned out of moulds which are separately attached to the image and left to dry. The idol is first painted in white and then coated in yellow.

Finally, the eyes, which is a very specialised skill, are painted on the idol. Chakshudaan, as it is called, is the preserve of only a few gifted artisans. Bimol Mistry, 25, hails from the deltaic Sunderbans, while most artisans in Kumartuli come from Krishnanagar and Nabadwip, the traditional crafts hub of Bengal. Mistry says, “Iwas passionate about clay work and used to make terracotta objects back home. Two years ago, when I came to Kolkata I started painting the eyes, something which the seniors take years to master.”

With time, the goddess’ garments and ornamentation too have undergone changes. Instead of expensive silk sarees draping the goddess, puja organisers are now making do with synthetic ones. Krishna Chandra Pal, a decades’ old trader of idol accessories, says that the traditional white shola pith jewellery for the idols has been replaced with “rolex jori” (synthetic zari). From the crown to the garlands, everything on display in his shop has been crafted by hand by housewives in Krishnanagar. “Depending upon your budget, you can get anything, from a simple cardboard sequined mukut (crown) to an elaborate double-decker one,” says Pal.

While an entire Durga idol, with its ten hands astride a lion slaying the demon Mahishasura, can be completed in seven days, heavy monsoon showers like this year’s can be troublesome. Artisans then have to dry the wet clay idols under fans. Along with clay idols, a few units in Kumartuli have started making ‘fibre idols’, a new innovation where chemicals are poured inside a prefabricated dice; the final product is a goddess with a polished, glistening look.

Seventy four-year-old Kartick Pal’s words resonate with significance as he races against time to get the idols ready to be carted onto the pandals before ‘Sasthi’. “Aamra manush toh noi bhoot” (we aren’t humans now, we are spirits) — they truly are unworldly spirits imbuing life into ordinary clay.

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First Published: Oct 02 2011 | 12:53 AM IST

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