Art of Terracotta

Paddaja Roy

“We are all storytellers. We all live in a network of stories. There isn’t a stronger connection between people than storytelling.” – Jimmy Neil Smith

When our guest insisted on paying a visit to the place where they make terracotta artefacts, we were all the more pleased to accompany him and take him to Asharikandi, a small village in the district of Dhubri in Assam famous for pottery and terracotta.

Asharikandi is a combination of the words ‘Ashar’ the third month of the Assamese calendar known for its incessant rains and ‘kandi’ which means to cry, implying the tears which the artisans shed in the rainy month of Ashar when parts of their village get flooded and submerged thereby hindering their work, and that is how the place got its name.

Kokrajhar to Asharikandi was a distance of 62 km approx. and our guest who had come all the way from the UK was quite fascinated by the green fields and sparkling waters of the rivers Gadadhar and Gaurang. It was almost noon when we entered the quiet village of amiable artisans and the extensive assortment of crafts held us enthralled.

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There were all sorts of artefacts, from human figures such as Hatima dolls, kings; animals such as elephants; miniatures of gods and goddesses such as that of Ganesha, Durga, Radha-Krishna; a variety of pots, vases, lanterns, wall hangings- to name a few- of all shapes and sizes.

“There was one particular piece- that of a wedding troupe on a boat, returning with the bride after the wedding- this piece of terracotta art reminded me of a scene from a mythical story. After the wedding, the bride and the groom were returning to the groom’s house on a boat when a sudden storm broke out and as ill luck would have it, amid the plunging and violent waves, the bride lost all the gold and jewelry that she had brought from her father’s place. Her in-laws, assuming that she hailed from an impoverished family, mistreated and disregarded her, compelling her to do all the odd chores of the household (In other renditions, it is her in-laws who, out of sheer jealousy, throw away all her gold and ornaments into the river)”

As we were browsing through the ornate display of baked exquisiteness, we also came across baked artefacts depicting various scenes, such as that of a man and a woman on a boat, another of a husband and his wife riding a bike with a toddler on her arms, another of a temple with the lingam of lord Shiva placed inside it, another of a house with a family living there- as if the artisans carved pieces of their village and life into their craft.

There was one particular piece- that of a wedding troupe on a boat, returning with the bride after the wedding- this piece of terracotta art reminded me of a scene from a mythical story.

After the wedding, the bride and the groom were returning to the groom’s house on a boat when a sudden storm broke out and as ill luck would have it, amid the plunging and violent waves, the bride lost all the gold and jewelry that she had brought from her father’s place.

Her in-laws, assuming that she hailed from an impoverished family, mistreated and disregarded her, compelling her to do all the odd chores of the household (In other renditions, it is her in-laws who, out of sheer jealousy, throw away all her gold and ornaments into the river).

Aghast at her misery, she poured out her heart to a deity who directed her to go fishing the next day. Despite the disapproval and taunts from her in-laws, she went to the river and surprisingly caught an enormous fish! And when she cut open her belly, what should she find but all her lost gold and jewellery. And that is how the worship of that particular goddess became prevalent.

As I was narrating this to my friend who accompanied me, the latter pointed to a pair of hands and said that it too reminded her of some tale which she was unable to recall then. At this I couldn’t help reflecting upon the marvel of Art. Isn’t it wonderful how something as bland as mud can be shaped into something so ornate and so useful? Isn’t it magical how a piece of baked clay can conjure up stories- bits and pieces of oral narratives?

The terracotta miniature of a man rowing a boat with a lady sitting on it is a recurring image in many folk songs, an avid music lover could almost hear the words “Boitha maro, boitha maro re…” emanating from it. We were then given a tour of the entire place and we watched with awe how from a pile of mud the artisan dexterously assembled up a shapely and exquisite piece of art- a vessel for holding water!

And the click-clicks of our cameras simply couldn’t get enough of it all.

On our way back home, we carried with us not only a bunch of terracotta crafts but also stories which the artisans narrated to us, stories which the terracotta artefacts conjured up in our heads and stories of joy and sorrow which we narrated to one another, and we didn’t know it then, but we were making memories!

[Writer Paddaja Roy is the Assistant professor at Ratnapith College, Chapar, Dhubri, Assam]

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