West Bengal Chronicles, Part Four: Tepantar
Monthly Archives: March 2018
West Bengal Chronicles, Part Three: Songs at Sunset
As the sun descended, and the warm day gave way to a fresh-breezed evening, our small group folded ourselves down on cloth mats in a open-sided hut fashioned of bamboo. We had come to share music with bauls from Joydev Kenduli.
We had met the two brothers taking the lead on the visit, Sudhu and Kangal Das, earlier in our trip when they participated in the Sur Jahan festival in Kolkata. I had instantly liked them — because they are infinitely likable, resembling two colorfully dressed teddy bears who smile a lot and sing like angels. So, here we were in their village, listening to spiritual songs accompanied by stringed instruments, drums, and bells.
The approach to this peaceful oasis had come through a wave of choking dust kicked up along the wide dry river bed by what seemed like a never-ending sea of trucks. I recall thinking that this could not possibly be the home of the bauls, whose music is joyous and meditative. But, here we were, a short distance from the town, overlooking that same river bed from a whole different perspective.
Notice I said “sharing music” because despite the fact that most of our US-based group were self-professed non-musicians, we had been asked to sing an American song. I was, not so secretly, dreading this part of the evening, but I was the one who came up with the song that we should sing. Woody Guthrie’s This Land is Your Land fit the mood somehow, evoking landscape and espousing freedom, although with typical Guthrie irony. None of us could remember more than the first two of the seven verses, but we all joined in bravely and the bauls took over with the instrumentals once they caught the melody.
I wanted that evening to go on forever, despite the fact that I was hungry and I really had to go to the bathroom. Bodily needs could wait while the music floated on the air and we sat, swaying to the hypnotic songs and strings. But we finally had to unfold ourselves and walk by cell phone flashlight back toward the harsh glare of the main road. But, writing this weeks later, I feel as though a tiny piece of that evening lodged comfortably in my heart and will hopefully remain there for good.
West Bengal Chronicles, Part Two: A View of the Scroll Village
Imagine a whole small village of families who make their modest living painting and singing. It sounds idyllic, but I am sure it is harder than it seems. For one thing, you can’t just paint and sing all day – you need to cook, take care of children, and tend gardens, fields and animals. Plus, what if you just don’t feel inspired to paint that day – you have to anyhow, its your livelihood.
Naya village, an area in the larger Pingla district north of Kolkata, is such a place. Walk down a narrow dirt lane off the main street and you encounter neat rows of small houses with front porches devoted to sales areas, piled with scrolls and other products painted with motifs. The sides of the homes are decorated with scroll images: mostly flora and fauna.
At the end of the lane is a large modern two-story building which serves as a museum, community center and guest house. Our group is ushered into an open upstairs room, and what seems like the whole village follows. Party time!
What followed was a sort of “getting to know you” workshop. The scroll painters (included some we had already met while they were in Kolkata personning a sales booth at the Sur Jahan Festival we had 
attended the weekend before) showed us their work and sang us some scroll songs. Then, they brought out a variety of natural materials which they use to make paints – flowers, leaves, berries, and fresh tumeric – and we all laughed as they showed us how to squeeze and squish these to produce vibrant colors.
At some point in this process, one young man, Bapi Chitrakar, came up to me as I was taking photos with my phone camera. Could he borrow my phone to take some photos? (We didn’t need a common language for this transaction, gestures worked just fine.) I was slightly reductant, but we were all becoming friends here, so why not? After all, it would allow me to more fully devote myself to mashing colors into my “field notebook.”
Bapi got into the animation function (as well as the collage and burst functions), so many of the photos dance and wiggle, and capture the childlike fun we were having playing with the natural dyes and getting to know the painters. I dare say they were having fun, too, laughing with, and at, us. I’ve included some of those here.
The day ended with us presenting an idea for a scroll which they will be producing in the coming months, the story of the history and current use of the National Mall in Washington, D.C. None of them have ever seen the National Mall; we provided photos and the storyline, but we have no idea how the final scroll painting (and possibly an accompanying song) will turn out. It will be one of the many surprises and delights of this whole cultural exchange experience.