The God Maker
On an early October evening, throngs of people walk out on the streets of Kolkata, moving ahead with a collective excitement. The crowd moves at a snail’s pace but it does not daunt anyone; it is Panchami and ‘Maa’ has come home. As the procession moves closer to the pandal, fervent sounds of dhaak wafts by, filling the spaces between conversations. Some are propelled forward by their devotion, while some fall behind lingering at the phuchka stalls. Durga Pujo, the five-day-long mega festival is a time when the city of Kolkata truly comes alive. If you have ever gotten the chance to go pandal-hopping, a beloved activity amongst most Kolkatans – young or old, you must have wondered where these mesmerising idols come to life.
It is in this mission to catch the process of making Durga idols, we tend to gravitate towards the famous idol-makers tucked away in the alleys of Kumortuli, the humble abode of potters. However, we often tend to overlook the smaller lanes of Kolkata that have given birth to equally skilled artisans throughout the last century, working behind their makeshift workshops hidden under blue tarpaulin sheets.
It was one such artisan whose workshop I had unknowingly walked by numerous times on my way to my grandparent’s. “Dada, Lokkhon Paler goli te nie jaaben,” (Brother, please take me to Lokkhon Pal’s lane) was the instruction I would give to a rickshaw puller, every time I came by. I had always wondered about this gentleman. Who as he? What were his contributions that his name had got stamped onto this quaint path jutting off a massively busy street of Garia, South Kolkata. But it was not until recently, a conversation with my mother revealed to me that Shri Lokkhon Pal was in fact an idol-maker famous in this part of the city. The son of a modest potter, Lokkhon Pal was struck with the vision of making idols for the most revered celebration of the city, and that is how he launched into this mystical profession. His legacy today is proudly carried forward by his son Shri Nikhil Pal, who has expanded his father’s small business into a big, successful one.
“We don’t have an off-season anymore!” he says with a slight smile in his voice as he continues to mould and paint details onto the 8 ft goddess in front of him. Gone are the days when zameendar families would personally invite an idol maker to custom build for them at their palatial homes. The process would start off with the ritual of Khuti Pujo – a prayer that calls forth the divine goddess to lend her form to the bamboo framework and lumps of clay, through the deft hands of these artisans. Though it is only two generations old, Nikhil Pal’s business has found a mark in the city, as he works swiftly around his workshop along with his twelve companions, racing against time to finish multiple orders. “Our orders come from far and wide!” he states proudly. With growing demands and nostalgic Bengalis striving to preserve their culture, Nikhil Pal is one of many artisans of Kolkata who ship their idols not only to other cities within the nation, but to places like USA, Canada, UK and even Australia. On being asked how he ensures the safe passage of these towering divinities, he says that shipping it via Cargo is the only option they have. “It is indeed expensive, and we have to make sure it is packaged well,” he declares. After all, who can deny a Probashi Bangali, those Bengalis who live away from homeland, the right to celebrate Durga Pujo, a festival that turns your neighbours into your extended family.
It is usually three months before the Pujo that the city stretches out of its summer slumber and slowly shifts into second gear, getting ready for Maa’s homecoming. The festive feeling coupled with the steadily increasing enthusiasm of every single member in the community drives Kolkata to turn into a vibrant, lively space. Come Mahalaya, households stir and rise as strains of the eternal Birendra Krishna Bhadra’s Jago-Durga wafts out of every window at the break of dawn, commemorating the tale of Durga’s victory against Mahishasura marking the beginning of the festivities. The entire community now moves into full swing shuffling home from school or work, yet finding time to practice their theatre skits and dances for the festivities. Rehearsals run well beyond bedtime as people of all ages put their minds together to put forward the best show one has ever witnessed. On the other side of the spectrum, the idol-makers and the pandal-setters rush forward to complete their pieces of marvel. Mahalaya marks an important day for the artisans, as on this day the last touch is added to the goddess – the sacred ritual of Chokkhudaan; the drawing of the deity’s eyes and bringing her to life.
“The process of creating an idol is a long and hard one. We start with the framework of bamboo, rope and hay; and then move on to add clay that is collected from the banks of the Hooghly. I personally check the clay as it is important to get the consistency right for a smooth finish. We discard the first layer of soil as it is too ‘rocky’ and use the next layer that we call bele maati, as it has just the correct proportion of sand and small grains. The clay is applied in multiple layers and once the final layer dries up, we move onto painting the idol.” Nikhil tries to simplify the complex process, where he works in tandem with other artisans and dressmakers creating weapons, beautiful sarees and embellishments to be draped on the goddess.
Though it is true that with the increase in demand for idols, these traditions are waning off due to time constraints and deadlines, the long-established process of making Maa Durga’s idol includes many rituals and small facets, whose knowledge has been handed down from one generation of idol-maker to the next. But recent trends have seen people diverge from such traditions as they have started experimenting with other materials such as recycled metal, plaster of paris, thermocol and so much more.
With the shift of Pujo from a small homely affair including just a paara – the immediate neighbourhood, to a large carnival open to the entire world, artisans have tried to make innovative leaps through their designs. Multiple sponsors and mega budgets have allowed idol makers to reach new heights quite literally, evident from the 88 ft tall fibreglass and cement deity of 2015 at Deshapriya Park. On asking Nikhil if he has ever thought about experimenting with materials, he replies, “I have always wanted to use bio-clay. After all it’s time people start thinking about eco- friendly idols but doing so would increase expenditures drastically.” He believes that a little government intervention would help idol-makers like him go a long way when it comes to matters like this. Needless to say, idol-makers all around the city translate their love and devotion into these beautiful divinities, some traditional and some experimental.
Every year, as Maa Durga descends from the mythical heavenly lands above, she brings with her a sense of euphoria and unity, one that is cast over the entire city, knitting its people together, the pious and non-believer alike. And every year as Dashami approaches, the city rings out with the last sounds of dhaak, the last steps with a dhunuchi dance and a chorus chant of “Bolo Durga Mai ki jai; asche bochor abar hobe!” (Hail the Mother Durga, next year again!) The city flocks to the banks of its river, and as the last of the idols are submerged in its waters, a sense of bittersweet calm spreads over everyone. Starting from the next day, that Pujo-Pujo gondho – the festive fever, slowly starts fading away as people go back to their regular lives, with memories to fuel them through the year. But people like Nikhil Pal return to their workshops ever so quietly, to start afresh, already thinking about the year ahead.
