Bishnupur, Where History is Etched on Terracota

Bishnupur, famous for Baluchari sarees and terracotta artwork, throbs with history. Its terracotta temples are not only proofs of human craftsmanship at its best, but are embodiment of history. The red earth walls of the temples are alive with many stories: tales of invasion and settlement, of blurring borders and interlaced cultures, of royal glory and humdrum life.

Bishnupur, a town in Bankura, West Bengal, is a pleasant 5 hour drive away from Kolkata. The red earth town has a certain majesty about it. When you cross the Garh Darwaza (literally, the Fort Entrance), the main gateway to Bishnupur, you can see in your mind's eye the parade of kings and nawabs and marauding mobs passing through this gate to enter the ancient city.
The apocryphal history of Bishnupur dates back to the 4th Century Gupta dynasty. Legend has it that the land was then ruled by local Hindu kings who paid tribute to the great Samudragupta. Another, more popular, version holds the Malla kings to be the founders of the town. This seems to be more believable, as it is indeed the terracotta temples, built by the Vaishnavaite Malla kings, that give the town its primary marker of identity.

When we, a party of four urban Bengalis, headed for Bishnupur on a mild January morning in 2017, little did we know that we would chance upon history, alive and throbbing with vitality. Everyway one turns in Bishnupur, one stumbles upon tales of the past—fabulous and wistful—strewn languidly on one's path.

 

Dal madal cannon:

The historical monuments of Bishnupur narrate stories of conqueror-conquered relationships, but all presented in such fantastic ways that it's hard to separate fact from fiction.
Take the story of Dal madal cannon for instance.
The 3.8 metre long cannon is a mighty proof of the Malla kings' victory over Maratha bargis (a group of Maratha marauders who plundered the rural areas of the western part of eighteenth-century Bengal, giving rise to many folk songs and tales about their destructive potential).
However, the notice put up by the Archeological Survey of India curiously records a rather mythical story of divine intervention. It says that according to popular belief, it is the family deity Madanmohan (another name of Vishnu) who fired the cannon and assisted King Gopal Singha in his battle against the bargi leader Bhaskar Rao. The Vaishnavite royal family and the city are thus both saved.
Such stories make one wonder about the nature of representation. The eighteen century, that saw the Age of Enlightenment in Europe and the formal emergence of British colonialism in Bengal, seems too modern an era to be a fit scene for cosmic battles. As another version of the Dal madal myth says, it is the trusted General of the king's army who rubbed blue paint all over his body to camouflage himself in the dark and fired the cannon unnoticed by the bargis. It is thought that this blue colour on his body later came to be seen as the mythic body-colour of Vishnu, who has came down on Earth to save his devotees against the invaders. Yet, so strong had been the belief in divine interference that this more plausible story is easily pushed into oblivion. Because, who can deny that the story of Madanmohan's contribution serves to glorify the ruling king's Vaishanite faith to a great extent. And in an era, when Islamic culture and religion was threatening to undermine Hinduism on one hand and the rigid casteism of Hindu society was only compelling low-castes to convert to Islam, it was crucial for the Malla kings to emphasise the benevolent nature of their altenative religion.

 

Jorbangla and Shyamrai temples:

History of Bishnupur tells us of many clashes between warring cultures and religions. Yet, on the terracotta temple walls one finds evidence of a seamless merging of diverse ways of life. Mythic flora and fauna, events from the royal life and religious stories are etched on the walls of Shyamrai temple or Jor-Bangla temple. But suddenly, in the midst of such fabulous sagas, one notices a block which has a parade of Mughal soldiers carved on it; right below that there sits a British sahib dressed awkwardly in the garment of a nawab; beside them a rural farmer walks homeward with a calm expression on his face. It's all a happy confusion—the royal and the commonplace, the mythic and the humdrum, the ruling Mughal, the fresh-off-the-boat British colonialist—all cohabit on the terracotta temple-walls.

Jor Bangla Temple Wall: proof of Islamic presence

One almost guesses at a well-planned strategy on the part of the Kings who built these temples. The temples might be symbols of the Vaishnavite kings' devotion to a patron deity, but their architecture
also shows a loyalty to the overarching supremacy of the religious other. Or it can simply be a testimony to the artist's attempt at bringing the contemporary flavour into his art, who knows?
Interestingly, while for most of the temples in India, the artists' identity remains shrouded in anonymity, there is an inscription on the wall of Shyamrai temple immortalizing the name of its medieval artist. The toil and imagination of a common man have reigned supreme over the glorious king who had merely funded the establishment of the temple.

 

Laal Bandh

This artificial lake in Bishnupur is infamous as a cite of paranormal activities.
The great Malla king Raghunath Singha dug up this artificial lake as a gift to his Persian paramour Laal Bai, a celebrated classical dancer. Significantly, it was this Raghunath Singha who had built the major Vishnu temples of Bishnupur in the seventeenth century. But in his private affair he dared to move beyond his religious identity and fall in love with a woman of another faith.
But, the public domain has hardly ever favoured one's individual choices.
Laal Bai was brutally killed by the king's Hindu wife: she, along with the son she has born to Raghunath Singh, was drowned in Lal Bandh. The lake that was a gift from her beloved became the site of her death.
Even now, the locals say, the desperate final cries of Laal Bai can be heard over the lake, rending the stillness of a moonless night.
Standing before Laal Bandh, one still feels a chill. No, it's not the blood curdling feeling of encountering the supernatural. Rather it comes from the realization that so long ago, in times of staunch religious conservatism, a Persian girl dared to find love on an unaccustomed earth, did not hesitate to bear the child of a man who didn't share her language, culture or religion, and dreamt of making a home of her own in Bengal.
The unheard cry that still echoes in the wind laments the our continued inability to rise above petty differences and realize the full potential of love.

Laal Bandh

Other places to visit in Bishnupur

• Chinnamasta Mandir 
• Mukutmanipur
• Kanishnka Saree Emporium, where you can see the artists of the famous Baluchari saree at work
• Town Museum

Heading home

Bishnupur fascinates one with many proofs of multiculturalism. One comes back from the town richer. It tells the history of India in a nutshell: it is a history of many arrivals and departures, of cultures clashing and intermingling with each other, of the coexistence of liberalism and conservatism and of a human bond that transcends all barriers.