“This is where they sent the letter inviting me to Rojgere Ginni ,” says Mala Pal, gesturing around the tiny space that is her studio. Mala is one of the few women artisans in Kumartuli, the traditional potters’ quarter in north Kolkata where the famous Durga idols are made. She is referring to a popular reality TV show in Bengali, in which she had featured as a guest. She adds that she might also appear on another show hosted by Sourav Ganguly.

Kolkata’s potters’ colony may be churning out goddess idols by the dozens round the year, but it remains very much a male bastion. A handful of its women are now challenging this monopoly.

On February 14, also known as Valentine’s Day, Kumartuli chose to focus on this marginal community — its women idolmakers. The women artisans organised a photo-walk around their locality, introducing visitors to their studios and work, as a part of the One Billion Rising (OBR) global movement initiated by Eve Ensler, author of The Vagina Monologues .

The Kumartuli event, conceptualised by Green Tara Initiative Charitable Trust, is also part of a project spearheaded by Kolkata-based Participatory Publishing Praxis to bring together the women artisans to create a book and, in the process, address the key issues affecting them and the community at large.

The area’s name is derived from the Bengali ‘ kumhor ’ or potter, and ‘ tuli ’ or small space. It is as old as the city of Kolkata, which was created by the East India Company by building settlements in a few scattered villages. New neighbourhoods came into being and were dominated by a specific trade or craft. Kumartuli’s unique workshop area in the older section of the city has become a tourist hub. In fact, entry tickets have been introduced to regulate the pre-Durga Puja rush. Travel operators offer special curated packages.

During Durga Puja, the workshops churn out close to 4,000 idols. It is the idols of goddesses that are most in demand because the city’s biggest festivals are centred around them — Saraswati, Lakshmi, Kali and, of course, Durga. Yet, the craft is dominated by men, and many of the family businesses are handed down father to son.

Devi means business

As we accompany Mala around the narrow lanes, taking care not to brush against the many wet clay works in progress, we learn about the numerous issues and obstacles the women face — sceptical customers, lack of studio space, unsupportive family, housework and childcare, and male peers who do not take them seriously. One artist narrated how some of her father’s crew quit as they could not stomach taking orders from a woman. Most of the women artists do not have a studio of their own. And they mostly stick to making smaller idols and figurines (which take less time) and creating accessories for the idols.

Alpana Pal is busy creating rows and rows of small idols “These are for the Marwaris. They have a puja around Holi. It is like our Sitala Puja.” She learnt the craft from her mother, Geeta Rani Dinda, when she was 14. “I work from home mostly. I do not have a kaarkhana (workshop/studio). Sansaar theke jokhon shomoy baachey tokhon kaaj kori (I work whenever I have time after housework).” Her son is studying in an art college and is picking up the ropes of film direction, she says.

Around the corner, a small shack is stacked with glittering, intricate crowns, and arm and leg bands. This is Parul Raeel’s work. She makes accessories for the goddesses using sequins, zari, beads and mirrors. Marriage brought Raeel to Kumartuli from Nadia. It takes her about three days to make a set of ornaments for a Kali idol. “I don’t sit in the shop, or do any becha-kena (selling). My husband does all that.”

A few metres away is the home of Sushmita Pal, who is known for her rendering of the most soulful eyes for the goddess. She also designs ornaments in zari and beads. Next door, on the mud floor of a hut, 14-year-old Nivedita is engrossed in her art homework — sticking pencil shavings in her notebook to form flowers — under the watchful eyes of her mother, Shrabani Pal. Shrabani crafts small idols for a living.

“I picked up the skill from my shashuri maa (mother-in-law), Arati Pal. She has been doing this for 40 years. She came here from Shantipur after her marriage,” says Shrabani. Shantipur in Bengal is famous for taant (handloom) saris, legendary for their fine texture and lightness. “Her family had seven-eight looms. She was skilled at making saris too,” she adds.

It’s a big order, women

Forty-something Mala Pal is among the handful of women artisans in Kumartuli who have a studio of their own and employ labourers. Mala’s miniature idols are much in demand among the Indian diaspora in Europe, Australia and Canada. She specialises in foldable Durga Puja idols that can be detached from the base and packed separately for shipping. Her clay jewellery is also shipped abroad. She has won several State awards for her craftsmanship. She took over the family business after her father died in 1985 and none of her brothers showed any interest in it.

She had made her first idol in 1993 when still a teenager. “This place did not have a single woman artist then,” she says. It’s been a rough road but now her business is making some money. Her daughter has been learning the ropes as well. “She has gone for her tuition class. She will be giving her Madhyamik (Std X) exams this year,” she says proudly.

Her male colleagues continue to doubt her abilities. “They feel I cannot handle big orders for pujo as I am a woman.” The walls of her small, rickety studio are made of chatai (bamboo) that are held in place with rope. Lighting is low wattage.

Mala’s story is very similar to that of China Pal, who too entered the profession after her father — the renowned idolmaker Hemanta Pal — died in 1994. Like Mala, China too has received a State award — the Rajyapal Puraskar. And her brothers, likewise, were not interested in continuing the family business, preferring instead less-strenuous jobs with better pay. The youngest of six children, China took over her late father’s studio. Today, she runs two studios and a team of 12 men. She says she likes to stick to the traditional style of idolmaking (as did her father) where all the five idols for Durga Puja are built against a common backdrop (ekchala).

Much like the goddess she crafts, China has gained renown as ‘dashabhuja’ (the 10-armed one) for her ability to handle both studio and home. Among her well-known works is the ardhnarishwar idol of Shiva and Durga commissioned for Kolkata’s first transgender Durga Puja pandal in 2015.

That’s a long way from the time China began, when she knew little of the art or the business, as her father would not allow her into the studio in the presence of the male workers. It was also the time many of her father’s crew, who refused to work under a woman, left the studio.

“I’m glad we have taken the step,” says Mala. “You have to just keep doing it. It’s not easy making a living, but it can be done.”

As the sun goes down and darkness engulfs the area, the small army of female artists bids goodbye — “We have to get back home to cook dinner”.

Inside the studios and the lanes, only the men remain. Tomorrow, after the household chores, the real-life Durgas will be back to crafting a hard-earned success, breaking traditions, persevering, and rising above stereotypes and patriarchy.

comment COMMENT NOW