In the early hours, as the sun peeked over the horizon, casting its gentle glow upon the land, we embarked on a journey to Bishnupur, at Bankura district of West Bengal. We squeezed into the general compartment of the Rupasi Bangla Express. At 6:28 am, the train departed from Santragachi Junction. The train, bustling with life, carried us through the crisp morning air, filled with the earthy scent of awakening fields.
A cacophony of voices filled the air – greetings exchanged, children’s laughter echoing, and the conversations of the people. Through the grimy window, an embroidery of life unfolded: farmers dozing on sacks of rice, students engrossed in worn textbooks, families huddled together, sharing meager meals.
Amidst the rhythmic chug of the train, we found ourselves immersed in a symphony of sights and sounds. The aroma of steaming ‘chai’ mingled with the scent of freshly cooked delicacies, created a sensory feast that awakened the soul. As hawkers plied their trade, their voices rising above the din, we couldn’t help but marvel at the ingenuity and resilience of those who make their living amidst the chaos of the railway.
After a lively journey, we arrived at the Bishnupur station. Train delayed to reach the destination by 10 minutes, and we stepped out of the train at 9:42 am. The station was a sight to behold, its magnificence matched only by its pristine maintenance. As we stepped onto platform number 1, our gaze was drawn to a charming shop dedicated to the essence of “One Station, One Product.” Surrounding the station were blossoming trees, their vivid hues adding a touch of natural elegance to the scene.
Exiting the station, we sought a ride. An auto rickshaw, its paint faded but its spirit vibrant, pulled up. For ₹500, the driver promised a tour of Bishnupur’s hidden gems – the terracotta temples, each a testament to generations of artistry.
Our journey took us at first to the Rasmancha, a towering brick structure dating back to the 16th century, standing tall, its pyramidal shikhara and hut-shaped turrets whispering tales of bygone eras. We bought tickets for ₹25 per person to visit Rasmancha and two other temples in Bishnupur (Jor Bangla and Shyam Rai temple) that required tickets. The temple was built by Mallabhum king Hambir Malla Dev in 1600 AD on a high raised platform. It was surrounded by a well-maintained garden.
In the midst of it, was a small shrine that was locked. Around it, there were three levels of galleries on each side, with vaulted ceilings. Each side had ten arched entrances, letting in the lights. Inside, it was like a maze with 90 columns where it was easy to get a bit lost on walking around.
A guide inside informed us that during the “Ras festival, ” idols from nearby villages were brought to this temple, regardless of their size or shape, for people to adorn and worship. The festival was celebrated with grandeur during the Malla Rule, but it ceased in 1932. It has left the temple stand as a silent witness to the passage of time, reflecting the transient nature of human traditions and the enduring presence of history.
Our next destination was the Madan Mohan Temple. Built in the laterite style by Malla king Durjan Singha in 1695 AD, it offered a contrasting yet equally captivating experience. Its towering pyramidal structure and the serene ambience within created a space for quiet contemplation. The intricate carvings depicting scenes from Hindu mythology and the lifestyles of the people once residing there on its walls transport visitors back in time, offering a glimpse into the artistic mastery and deep-rooted faith of the Malla dynasty who ruled these lands.
As sunlight danced across its surface, the figures seemed to come alive, beckoning us to step into their world and lose ourselves in the cycle of time. One terracotta tile that attracted our attention, showed the way people were punished. This was beautifully carved and gave us a sense of awe.
Inside the Madan Mohan temple, there were idols of Radha Madhav. Capturing them in camera was not allowed. We enjoyed the scenic beauty of the temple and moved to our next destination, the Jor Bangla temple.
The Jor Bangla temple was built by the Malla King Raghunath Singh in 1655. The temple, with its labyrinthine corridors and ornate terracotta panels, offered a glimpse into the artistic prowess of Bishnupur’s craftsmen. Each panel, a testament to their skill, unfolded like chapters in the epic saga of India’s eventful past. Our fingers traced the delicate figures, their stories whispering tales of gods and mortals etched for eternity in clay.
It was already 12 and the sun was above our heads when we reached Ma Mrinmoyee temple, the oldest temple of Bishnupur established by King Jagat Malla in 997 AD. The temple in the shade of a great Banyan tree is the abode of goddess Durga. The scent of incense ignited a devotional feeling within us. Inside, we found two shops selling various items, including Dhokra crafts, the name derived from Dhokra Damar tribes of West Bengal and Odisha, who are traditionally metalsmiths. Dhokra crafts are made using lost-wax casting technique. Brass is the primary metal used in the craft.
Just across the path, the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) workers were busy restoring the Radhashyam temple originally erected by Malla King Chaitanya Singha in the year 1758 AD. The government’s effort to restore the temple filled us with heartwarming assurance.
Stepping away from the grand temples, we were met with a quieter beauty – the simple joys of everyday life. As we wandered through the town’s narrow lanes, we encountered a number of shops selling adorned Baluchari silk sarees. Our auto driver shared the intriguing history associated with this. The baluchari weavers once settled on the banks of the river Bhagirathi in Murshidabad, had to move to Bishnupur due to a flooding of the river. While at that time trade gradually declined under the British empire, the revival of Baluchari weaving in the mid 20th century was brought about by the artist Subho Thakur.
The driver finally dropped us at Monalisa Hotel and Restaurant for our lunch. Hotel Monalisa of Bishnupur is famous for its delicacies. The veg special thali we ordered for our lunch was delicious. Taste of every food item, dal, posto bora (pakora of poppy seeds famous in Bengal) and sabji were delightful. Although it was comparatively expensive, it calmed our stomach and satisfied our tongue.
With a shopping spree for our relatives in mind, we moved towards a ground nearby, where a number of people were selling clay articles. In the bustling market, amongst the colourful stalls, a woman captivated our attention. Her face adorned with innocence yet burdened with the weight of responsibility far beyond her years.
As we moved towards her, she eagerly showcased her clay creations. With a smile that lit up her entire being, she proudly presented a pair of small terracotta horses. Intrigued by her craftsmanship, we inquired about the price of the miniature marvels. Though the price was reasonable, we attempted to negotiate, a common practice in such transactions. However, her response caught us off guard – “We won’t cheat you,” she said with a hint of sadness clouding her bright eyes.
Her words lingered in the air, carrying with them a profound sense of resignation. With a heavy heart, she revealed the harsh reality of their trade. With a somber tone, she explained how tourists, wary of the fragility of clay items during travel, often opted for the convenience and durability of factory-made alternatives available at every corner. This has led to a decline in demand for their handmade creations.
As we parted ways, her words echoed in our minds, reminding us of the challenges faced by those whose livelihoods are intertwined with the ebb and flow of tourism. The encounter left an indelible mark on our hearts, serving as a humbling reminder of the importance of supporting local artisans and preserving the rich diversity of Bishnupur’s cultural heritage.
As the day drew to a close and we bid farewell to Bishnupur, we carried with us not only memories of its terracotta treasures but also the stories of the people who call this place home. For Bishnupur is more than just a town – it is a tapestry woven with threads of history, artistry, and humanity, waiting to be unraveled by those who seek its hidden wonders.
By: Mandira Joardar
Write and Win: Participate in Creative writing Contest & International Essay Contest and win fabulous prizes.
