This three-part series is a collaborative effort between Banyan Impact Fellows Bijoylakshmi, based in Odisha, covering part one; Akila, based in Tamil Nadu, covering part two; and Shantanu, based in Chhattisgarh, covering part three. The series explores everyday art observed at our respective host locations and delves into the lesser-known stories behind them.
Dear Akila and Santanu,
I hope this letter finds you both well. I was reflecting on our interaction during the Midpoint conference, where we discussed how different communities have varying styles of art and how they represent their stories. The everyday art that surrounds these places and people, though perhaps not widely known to the rest of the world, holds its own significance. In this letter, I wanted to share with you the beauty of colours, patterns and designs that I am privileged to see around me.
I started my initial field visits here in Ganjam, Odisha, in the coastal villages with a mixed population of Telugu and Odia families. I was captivated by the vibrancy of the houses. Each house is coated in the brightest shades of yellow, green, orange, blue, like bringing the rainbows down to their front yards. These homes, part of the Odisha Disaster Recovery Project (ODRP), stand as resilient structures constructed in the aftermath of the Phailin cyclone. The bold colours embody the resilience of the people who reside in them.
Beyond the colourful walls of the houses lies a community brimming with creativity and tradition. Sometimes, in the evening and early morning when I go out, I see women of different ages crouched down and creating intricate patterns adorning their verandahs. It is truly fascinating to see the women conjure new designs and shapes each day.
I’ve noticed two distinct types of floor art they create: one crafted daily using white powder and another, more semi-permanent, drawn in ink. Eager to learn more, one day I approached the lady who runs the shop in front of our house as she was finishing making the designs. Below, I am sharing the extract from our conversation, where she explained it to me.
“We draw the white designs on the red background during guruvar puja, which usually falls after Laxmi Puja, in the colder months of November or December. The white design, traditionally prepared using rice paste, is called Jhoti. In total, we have four guruvar pujas. Following the first puja, we only apply a layer of red-coloured sand, leaving it as such. It is after the second guruvar puja, during the third—which is considered the most auspicious—that we draw the designs using white ink nowadays to ensure their longevity.
These designs span from the courtyard or the street leading up to the main entrance. Each motif is different, ranging from floral and geometric patterns to depictions of animals or religious symbols. With each festival, the designs undergo a transformation.
The other forms you must have seen are smaller and made with powder right? These are known as Muruja and we make it before prayers after cleaning the front yard. Sometimes we wash the area with cow dung and use powders made of different natural mediums like stone, brick and, marigold for the white, red and yellow colours, and burnt coconut for the blacks.
These designs are particularly prominent during the Kartik month (November), especially near the Tulsi plants.
These designs are mostly drawn by married women of the household. We, as young girls, inherit this practice from our mothers and grandmothers. There is a profound spiritual connection felt while creating these designs, often evolving into a lifelong tradition.”
Despite their best efforts to impart this skill onto me over the past few months, I regret to inform you that I have yet to master the delicate art of drawing Muruja, the white powder is just as slippery as it is beautiful.
I’ve also been utterly enthralled by the unique manner in which weddings are celebrated here! The art and decor accompanying these festivities are unlike anything I’ve witnessed elsewhere. While the tradition of repainting houses with fresh coats is common, a distinctive feature I observed here is the practice of inscribing the names of the couple alongside certain motifs on the front walls. Curious about this custom, I asked my Odia friend, whose elder sister recently tied the knot. Here’s what she shared.
“The paintings are decorated on the front walls of both the bride and groom’s house prior to the wedding ceremony. On the bride’s side, a common motif depicts a bride seated within a palanquin, or palki, carried by four individuals. This symbolises the bride’s departure, reminiscent of ancient customs. Some other common paintings portraying men playing the dhol and trumpet signify the joyous celebration. The most common motif is the depiction of the auspicious Kalash with a coconut, as it symbolises a significant aspect of Hindu rituals, often present during various pujas.”
When I was talking with another villager, he mentioned that local artists are responsible for these wall paintings, with the intricacy and detail varying based on the family’s financial status. While names were traditionally inscribed in Odia, it is now common to include them in English alongside the marriage date.
As I venture out into the field, such sights continue to fascinate me, often serving as a source of inspiration to push myself out of my comfort zone and take advantage of this opportunity to get to learn about this new environment. I’m curious to learn about the artistic landscapes surrounding you in your respective host locations! I am looking forward to reading them in part 2 and 3 of this blog.
Warmest regards,
Bijoylakshmi from Ganjam, Odisha
