Rabindranath Tagore’s Shantiniketan is a cultural cauldron
BY LUBNA SALIM
Ever been on a train journey where a free musical performance over local snacks signalled your destination was near? If not, then try travelling to Bolpur, Shantiniketan, where Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore’s iconic Visva Bharati University sprawls over acres of land and attracts art and literature lovers from far and wide.
As the train nears Bolpur – a city in West Bengal’s Birbhum district that connects the world to this seat of art, leaning, and culture – the grey of concrete gives way to green fields and meadows bespeckled with mud huts and shacks, and colourful single or double-storeyed houses or thatched roof huts fronted by streams, straight out of some picture book.
SOULFUL START
Those who doze off during this lilting four-five hour train journey from Kolkata invariably wake up to the soul-soothing songs of Bauls or traditional folk singers, who hop onto the train dressed in vibrant orange or lemon robes strumming the ektara in a mystic daze on the outskirts of Bolpur, thereby setting the tone for the culture feast that Shantiniketan holds for its visitors.
And with the Bauls come local jhaal muri and chai wallahs, and if you are undertaking this journey around winter time then you would be lucky to savour some melt-in-the-mouth phulkopir shingharas or cauliflower samosas, too. This snacking is sensible, I realised from personal experience, for it keeps the hunger pangs in check as it takes about an hour to reach your destination from Bolpur railway station.
At the station one can either rent a car or request the hotel managers to send one to ferry you. Now in Bolpur, one finds plenty of options, especially forest resorts and lodges, but don’t expect anything overly fancy. At the same time don’t be surprised if you spot Padma Shri awardee and contemporary Indian artist Paresh Maity sitting in deep reflection or sipping chai at some local stall here. After all, the illustrious alumni of Visva-Bharati includes the likes of former Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, Oscar-winning filmmaker Satyajit Ray, Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen and artists of significance like Ram Kinker Baij and Jogen Chaudhuri, Udai Sankar and Kanika Bandhopadhyay, to name just a few.
A long weekend is ideal to soak in the spirit of Shantiniketan. It transports you far away from the bustle of city life and you will find it difficult to commute after dusk as streets are pitch dark, but the clear sky with a generous sprinkling of the bright stars twinkling away to glory (courtesy the absence of pollution) and pin-drop silence lulls you into a deep, peaceful sleep that the surroundings shroud you in.
I, for one, could clearly hear my oceanic breath as I drifted in my realm of dreams in stark silence only to be interrupted by sweet chirping of birds accompanied by the notes of folk songs from the farmers working in the fields nearby in the mornings, or a hymn-like song or two by the wandering Bauls.
LEARNING CURVE
Of course, the quintessential visit to the university is a given as is a homage to the homes of India’s two Nobel awardees Rabindranath Tagore and Amartya Sen, both incidentally from Bengal, whose houses sit cheek-by-jowl in the university campus. Traversing through the campus in an e-rickshaw called “toto” with the driver doubling as guide (everyone in Shantiniketan is well-versed with its rich history), stopping every few minutes for a hop-off and stroll, I was bemused to see this place where Tagore produced some of his most prolific works of literature and art, and began to reminisce the stories my Bengali home tutor an ex alumni used to narrate to me, when he would be in a particularly good mood about his experience of graduating from Shantiniketan many moons ago.
“We sat for lessons under the trees. They were our open-air classrooms,” he would tell me and go on to explain how beautifully the festival of dol (holi) was celebrated with flower petals and aabir (dry crimson colour). “We would touch the feet of our gurus with aabir wishing them on holi and smeared it gently on the cheeks of friends and contemporaries. There was no hooliganism,” he would proudly narrate.
After a generous fill of murals, sculptures and paintings galore, I began thirsting for more art and took the toto to the Srijani Shilpagram, the Eastern Zonal Cultural Centre which is an art and culture cauldron that offers a glimpse of the homes, lifestyle as well as handicrafts of India’s Eastern and North-Eastern states amid green surroundings.
Here, as I explored each of these homes and marvelled at the handicrafts displayed inside, the songs of the Bauls sitting on the verdant greens doubled as background score for this surreal and humbling tryst with art and culture.
FOOD FOR THOUGHT
With culture come cuisine and craft – the two pillars that give a well-rounded end to any travel experience. And in Bolpur, expect to titillate your taste buds with the tantalizing simple yet robust flavours of Birbhum cuisine. Many restaurants and inns offer what they call a “Birbhum” thali complete with rice, dal, fried veggies, a vegetable dish and fried fish and egg or chicken curry if you can’t do without your fish and poultry. Again, winter time is best for savouring local sweets prepared with nolen gur or palm jaggery.
As for the signature Shantiniketan leather craft, dokra jewellery and woven saris, a visit to the Amar Kutir store made me feel as much like Alice in Wonderland as a couple of hours spent exploring the colourful weekend flea market or haat.
I happily gave into the temptation of buying breezy and bright Birbhum cotton suits and picked up jewellery made from dried seeds between bites of pithey and puli (sweet Bengali pancakes with coconut filling) and all the shopping and feasting cost no more than two thousand rupees.
That Shantiniketan and Tagore are almost synonymous can only be experienced by visiting Bolpur. And the Gitanjali Rail Museum at Bolpur station bears testimony to this.
From the beginning of this trip to the end, I developed and nurtured a meditative bond with art, literature and culture that brought to my mind this verse from Rabindranath Tagore’s Gitanjali:
“I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure. Here I give back the keys of my door – and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you.
“We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summon has come and I am ready for my journey.”