Anwar, the lost artist who returned to his trade.
Anwar is an artist or a patua whose work I have come to love over the last couple of years. His philosophy of life is a true inspiration to people who believe that human beings should be known for their contribution to society rather than by their lineage, social status, or religious faith. I finally met Anwar in person yesterday and came away deeply inspired by his life.
Anwar paints Kalighat paintings, an art form that came into existence as early as the 19th C. Kalighat paintings derive their name from the banks (ghat) of the Kali temple in Kolkata, India, where they came to be sold by patuas or artists. Interestingly, London’s V&A museum has the largest collection of Kalighat paintings since the British were major patrons of these paintings. Although traditionally patuas painted figures of Hindu deities and mythological tales in their scrolls, over time scenes depicting the Bengali nobility, their promiscuous lives, and the western influence on the Bengali Babu culture became common themes in Kalighat paintings. The bright colours and the bold brush strokes became popular with the British stationed in Bengal. Consequently the British patronised many of these artists. Thus, the older Kalighat paintings provide an insight into the history of Bengal and are an important record of the social mores of the times because of their contemporary themes.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the patua community is that they are a community of artists who have refused to be identified by their faiths. Therefore, they do not use their surnames – a sure shot marker of religion in our country. They simply use “Chitrakar ” (meaning painter) at the end of their name. Many patuas like Anwar only want to be identified by their work, consciously refusing to subscribe to any particular faith. Consequently these artists have been shunned by their own community for painting Hindu Gods and deities.
The patuas of the yore can be compared to the wandering minstrels of the west. They travelled on foot from village to village with their painted scrolls narrating mythological tales of Hindu Gods in a typical sing-song intonation. The tradition continued till newer forms of entertainment became a serious threat to their livelihood. Today, the audience for scroll paintings has largely diminished.
Anwar has seen tough times himself. His earnings from his traditional livelihood dwindled with the advent of cable television. He had to take up tailoring jobs to sustain himself but a true artist, he could never give up his brush and paints. Despite the resistance of his family he took up his tools again. While chatting with him about a particular scroll, I sheepishly acknowledged that his knowledge of Hindu mythology was far greater than mine. To which he responded, “Many wonder why this Muslim patua is so interested in Hindu mythology. You will be surprised to know that I am the joint secretary of the biggest Kali Pujo celebration in my village.” He then went on to sing me a song about the oneness of God.
True to the tradition of Kalighat Paintings, Anwar paints both religious figures and scenes from contemporary life with his hallmark tongue-in-cheek humour. However, unlike traditional Kalighat painters who never signed their names on the scrolls, Anwar’s self assured paintings bear his signature. Because of the phenomenal work by the government, Non-Government Organizations, and artists like Anwar, Kalighat paintings are seeing a revival and lost artists are returning to their trade. Anwar himself is painting with bolder strokes and spreading the message of solidarity.
