by Shreyansh Agarwal
In a village
near Kolkata, known as Mednipur lived a Patachitrakar adorned with simplicity.
A kurta loosely hung on the skeleton of his body and wore a dhoti instead of
pants. Patachitrakars narrated mythological stories along with a visual scroll.
We live in a different world now. Folk art forms have gradually vanished and
there are few who cherish the richness and importance of such art. People
usually gathered around the artist in open spaces to hear his story and
experience the magical journey on which the patchitrakar took them. While the
patachitrakar narrated the story, two men namely sutradhars unravelled the
scroll as he proceeded with the story. People listened to him in amazement even
the nature around would seem non-existent. What children see today is heroic
tales of Batman or Spiderman. What they hard then were heroic tales of Krishna
and Rama who possessed magical powers.
The patachitrakar
would make the villagers escape into the world of dream from the daily hustle bustle.
The patachitrakar would first carefully write the story and tie it in a continuous
thread of music before visually illustrating it on the scroll. The scroll would
be visually divided in to frames; present day comics use a similar style.
Patachitrakar didn’t narrate the story but instead sang it in a repetitive
melody making it engaging to the audience. The tradition was passed on from
generations and each heir carried it ahead with the same passion as his ancestors.
Usually people paid him in kind rather than cash and that how the artist made a
survival. He even owned a small piece of land where his family cultivated rice
for self-consumption. Even though by birth he was a muslim he didn’t follow any
religion in particular. His folklores consisted stories from all religious
sects.
When people
gradually shifted to newer means of entertainment he didn’t even realise .The
evenings became less day by day and audience which once use to cheer and
applaud became silent. Children would not come to attend the session as they
were overwhelmed by the magic of gadgets. It was the old who just attending
these sessions. His survival was difficult as earlier people use to pay them in
kind. People hardly even bought their scrolls now. People just blindly adapted
to the western ways of entertainment like cinema and television.. All that he
did was paint these beautifull intricate scrolls and survived a basic lifestyle
with it. Of course what do these artists know about marketing and advertising,
they are simple men who know how to do their job and they are good at it.
There were days
when his family didn’t have anything to eat. He would work for months on the
beautifull scrolls of patachitra but there no people to buy it or appreciate
it.. They were artists and artists don’t beg. What else could he had done with all
that he knew was to paint patachitra and this is what his family had been doing
since time in memorial. Was he the one with whom the family legacy would
change, bearer of such folk form didn’t the responsibility lie on him to take
it ahead. The scrolls kept pilling up until one fine day when he decided to
give up and switch to a different profession. He joined the group of goldsmiths
in his village to try his luck at it. He worked diligently at for few months as
a goldsmith and hand crafted beautiful gold ornaments. It earned him a decent
earning and there was stability in this job. He couldn’t carry it on for too
long his heart didn’t allow him to. It might have been a safe option for the
survival of his family but he decided to go back to what he was best at.
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