As I wander through the lanes of Kumortuli, in North Kolkata it feels like I'm stepping back in time. The usual city sounds fade into the background giving way to the sound of tools clinking and murmured conversations. This place has been a hub for potters for centuries. You can sense the rich history lingering in every nook and cranny.
A seasoned potter catches my attention. Beckons me over his hands coated in dried clay. "Idhar aajao beta/Come here child” he says warmly his eyes crinkling with a smile. "Let me show you how we breathe life into our creations." I sit down beside him in his workshop being careful not to disturb the organized mess surrounding us.
As he moulds the clay with expertise, he narrates the tale of Kumortuli. According to him it all began centuries ago during the British rule, in Bengal. A prominent local figure named Raja Nabakrishna Deb invited a potter from Krishnanagar to settle here. The news spread like wildfire attracting artisans who established their homes and workshops in this area. Thus, giving birth to Kumortoli: Potters’ Hub.
"Do you know what 'Kumortuli' signifies?" he asks me gently while pausing his craft.
"In our Bengali language 'kumor' signifies a potter while 'toli' denotes a place. So essentially, we are just 'the place where potters reside'. It may not be extravagant. It’s our haven."
He gestures, towards the sculpture he is working on. "This will depict Durga " he proudly informs me. "She will be ready in time for the festival." I nod in understanding aware that he is referring to Durga Puja, the celebration for Bengali Hindus. It occurs every fall season. During those days people honour Goddess Durga as they believe she descends to Earth to meet her followers.
In our conversation I come to realize that Durga Puja is what gives life to Kumortuli. Months before the festival begins, the entire area hums with activity. Potters dedicate themselves day and night to create statues of Durga. Each piece is a labour of affection meticulously crafted and adorned with details. Apart, from crafting Maa Durga’s image they also bring her offspring – Lakshmi, Saraswati, Kartik and Ganesh – into existence here. Even Mahishasura, the demon defeated by Durga receives his statue.
Navigating through the winding alleys leaves me marvelling at how ordinary life intertwines with the divine. A beautiful completed statue of Kali occupies one corner while laundry dances, in the breeze on a nearby clothesline. Children joyfully play hide and seek amidst the drying sculptures their laughter serving as a reminder that Kumortuli's not just a place of work but a thriving community.
Pausing to observe a potter at his craft he shares with pride "My great grandfather began this tradition. We may not have received art education. Our expertise in this craft runs deep within us." It's truly remarkable to consider how this artistic legacy has been handed down through the generations from father to son, mother to daughter spanning three centuries.
Throughout the days progression it becomes evident that it's not Hindu deities being sculpted here. A peaceful Buddha catches my eye alongside a faced Jesus and contemporary interpretations of myths. Kumortuli appears to embrace diversity in artistry and beliefs.
As the sun begins its descent Kumortuli is bathed in a radiance. Soft light emanates from the workshops giving a quality to the unfinished statues. While the days labour draws to a close there is an air of anticipation lingering. Soon these divine figures will depart their place of origin to be revered throughout the city and, beyond.
Leaving Kumortuli with my shoes covered in clay I can't. Feel like I've experienced something truly extraordinary. In this quaint corner of Kolkata, I've witnessed a mesmerizing union of faith and art that has endured for three centuries. The artisans here are not creators; they are the custodians of tradition the faithful and the enchanters who transform clay into deities.
As I make my way back, into the city surrounded by the flickering lights coming to life a piece of Kumortulis enchantment remains within me. It's a place where history thrives where divinities emerge from the soil and where the essence of materializes, in tangible ways.
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