(

;j

I
i ' New Cultural Histories of India

Materiality and Practices

Edited by

Partha Chatterjee
Tapati Guha-Thakurta
Bodhisattva Kar

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9
Pictures in Celestial and Worldly Time
Illustrations in Nineteenth-Century Bengali Almanacs

Gautam Bhadra

An Immen s e Ar c h iv e
From the nineteenth-century cataloguer James Long to the twentieth-century
cultural historian Sripantha (pseudonym of Nikhil Sarkar), everyone agrees
that almanacs or panjikds had the largest circulation in the Bengali book
market of the nineteenth century. Printed Bengali almanacs carried pictorial
images from the very beginning, the number of images growing significantly
from the fourth decade of the nineteenth century. Sripantha declares that
no discussion of illustrated Bengali books can be complete unless it includes
the topic of printed images from almanacs.’ I agree. However, his discussion
hardly extends beyond this declaration. Although a few images from alma-
nacs are reproduced in Sripantha’s book, he does not engage in any discussion
of their visual significance. Pranabranjan Rays piece in the volume edited by
Ashit Paul examines very briefly the engravings of Krishnachandra Karmakar,
the ingenious craftsman of the Chandroday Press at Serampore, but the
volume does not contain any instance of his artwork.^ Sukumar Sen, again,
completely avoids the question and simply reproduces a couple of samples in
his book.^ In fact, the texts contained in almanacs, let alone their images, go
almost unaddressed in the standard histories of Bengali books. For example,
the chapter on the history of book images in Partha Mitter’s sizeable mono-
graph has an impressive title—‘The Power of the Printed Image’—but does
not even mention almanacs.^ As far as I know, Chittaranjan Bandyopadhyay’s
brief essay remains until now the only reliable and systematic discussion of
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 277
276 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

nineteenth-century Bengali almanacs. However, even in that essay, the ques- and occasional comparisons between old and new almanacs in contemporary
tion of images is restricted to one paragraph.^ newspapers. In the handwritten manuscripts, stellar calculations used to be
Yet there is hardly a richer archive for printed images in Bengal. Of course recorded in shorthand, in cryptic forms, in the style of symbolic diagrams.
like all other archives, this one too is marked by play between eloquence and In the printed versions, these cryptic forms came to be expressed in words,
silence. In correcting the inattention in the existing historiography, I will explained in commonly understandable Bengali sentences. As a result, the
indulge in a commentary on this archive. After all, as Sanskrit grammarians almanacs became much more accessible to common people. The Samdcar
tell us, the primary meaning of the word panjikd is commentary—relentless, Darpan of 11 March 1820 mentioned that in the almanac printed at the
meticulous commentary. press of Bishwanath Deb of Sobhabazar, one could both ‘know the days and
In popular memory, the origin stories of Bengali almanacs are organized dates of auspicious occasions and so on from numerals [as in the customary
around the name of Krishna Chandra, the famous eighteenth-century Raja almanacs, cf Figure 9.1] as well as from sections which have been separately
of Nadia. In the printed almanacs of western Bengal, we mostly hear of the written in words. Any literate person can know the dates and the occasions,
patronage of the Rajas of Nadia and the discursive predominance of the pun- the auspicious and inauspicious hours, without difficulty’. In 1818, following
dits of Navadvip. According to popular understanding, the almanac prepared the directives of the pundits of Navadvip, Durgaprasad of Jorasanko pub-
by the local astrologer (grahabiprd) was the chief instrument in deciding on lished a Bengali almanac after consulting the original Siddhanta text. This was
the dates and sequence of different social and ritual occasions. In his auto- an explicitly commercial venture: ‘Desiring wealth, I publish this almanac’.
biography, Jogeshchandra Roy Vidyanidhi described the period before the
coming of the printed almanac in this manner: - t? jSRSKKKtSLUS it's
ji.-
In an adjacent village there was an astrologer (grahacdrya). In the beginning of the o. W . •>

year and after every fortnight, he would visit and read out the almanac for the price -i sv SI,

of a sidha (a gift of uncooked rice and other food ingredients). He read aloud briskly »rt!rpt
the palm-leaf text and the housewives listened carefully. They had to memorize the • > ^ La'S!! fttasla*
almanac for the fortnight: the auspicious dates of the lunar calendar, the day of the
8 l’* 1
new moon, the day of the full moon, the seventh day of the fortnight, the fifth, the ' iits
sixth, the eighth; they had to remember the different dates of the pujas and ritual
observances. The priest [purut) too had to learn the dates by heart. In those days **
there was no printed almanac. —
y ^ u '=11 hit isl
Then Jogeshchandra went on to describe how different festivals were
observed in affluent households in accordance with the ritual requirements «n'a5?n:(tTr''t
of their sectarian affiliations and lineages. He mentioned that in the case of
:^£5n»i
absence of particular communities or sects in the village, their ritual occa-
<!» Kl 8
sions were not observed. Indeed, there was little means of knowing of such
occasions. ‘The village was the world’.^
U
In the course of their evolution, Bengali almanacs showed remarkable
3r?a^i(V
dynamism. The process of transforming handwritten manuscripts into A»
printed texts had an impact on the very structure of almanacs. A distinctive
1
shape gradually came into being. Novelties, both in terms of contents and
1
arrangement, were noticed. Elements were added to and taken away from the
old forms. Of the old handwritten almanacs, very few survive and I cannot Figure 9.1 A page from the early printed almanac, title page missing,
claim to have seen all of them. However, there are fragmentary references 187ft—.Seramnore. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 279
278 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

Gauri. Siva, after all, is the Lord of Time. Gauri’s question is certainly gran-
The writer suggested that the printed almanac would be of great help to all diloquent: ‘Fascinated, Parvati asks the Lord/“0 Kind Lord, please speak of
householders who required knowledge of the positions of planets on par- the origin of the world./ Who is born flrst/As the world comes to be created?’”
ticular days. ‘There will be no difficulty. This almanac contains everything Very soon, however, the question becomes somewhat different: ‘Why are
Consult it when you want to’.^ there new almanacs every year?/Why are they called “new almanacs?”/Why
Again, in 1835, the almanac of the Dinasindhu Press published a Bengali should one listen to new almanacs?/ Please explain, O King and Nobles’. The
edition of the Subhdsubha Dinak^na Vicdra of Gangagovinda Vidyalankara response is the justification and validation of almanacs, the description and
of Mahanada. These vernacular versions of Sanskrit texts and their common commendation of their usefulness—in short, a preface, in the modern sense
strategy of complementing arithmetical figures and diagrams with plain of the term. These long rhymed lines could be used equally in the custom-
words certainly rendered the form of the almanac more intelligible to a large ary Eulogy to the Nine Planets (nabagrahabandan^ and for explaining the
section of the population than ever before. Drawing attention to the superior procedures of reading almanacs. However, by the 1840s, they were regular-
efficacy of printed almanacs over older locality-specific forms, a news item in ized into brief formulaic expressions. The popular almanac printed in the
JndndnveMn reported in 1838 that ‘the almanac printed in the Vidvanmod Chandroday Press at Serampore, for instance, carried these standard opening
Press is truly excellent as it contains much more necessary information lines: ‘The goddess tenderly asks Siva/“Please tell me how this year will go./
than is usually considered essential for an almanac’. It was suggested that Which planet will come to occupy the position of the king and which will
these printed almanacs with extra information would prove useful not only be a minister, so to speak?”/Siva tells Parvati, “Here it is./Listen how it will
to ordinary people but also to the expert grahabipras. The value of the old go’”.'® Usually, the first image of a printed almanac would be a pictorial rep-
locality-specific almanacs prepared by the pundits appeared to decline as new resentation of this introductory conversation (Figure 9.2). In Krishnachandra
printed almanacs became available. Karmakar’s stylized grid, for example, one can see Siva making infallible pre-
Consultation of this almanac will greatly facilitate the work of the daibajna. dictions from the upper panel, with Parvati sitting on a throne next to him.
Previously, first-rate almanacs used to be published under the authority of Maharaja Evidently, the heaven of Kailasa now has European-style facades. The spatial
Krishna Chandra of Nadia and following the directives of the pundits of Bali. The symmetry is defined by the juxtaposition of a trident-decorated temple and
pundits had high regard for them. The almanacs which have come into circulation
since the extinction of those almanacs stand nowhere in comparison to this excellent a colonial mansion.
The form, texture, and claims of this pictorial syntax were embedded in
almanac [printed at the Vidvanmod Press] .*
the political and social realities of the nineteenth century. The Eulogy to
From the second quarter of the nineteenth century, certain neighbour- the Nine Planets could almost function as a textualization of the sense of
hoods such as Bali came to specialize in composing almanacs. In fact, the being oppressed by a turbulent, disorderly time. Everyday lives were at the
grahabipras from these localities became involved with the publication of mercy of unseen and powerful planets. The authority of Siva and Parvati was
almanacs on account of their training, their family status and the eminence indisputable in Kailasa. But the temporal kingdom of Bengal belonged to
of their lineages. Handwritten almanacs did not completely disappear, but the East India Company. Whether a zamindar, or a pundit, or an ordinary
their circulation was certainly reduced.^ What we need to note, however, are householder—all Bengalis were subjects of a colonial empire. Seemingly,
the ways in which the structure of the panjikds were gradually stabilized and a the intensity of this recognition never escaped the publishers and compilers
balance emerged over time between the traditional subjects and the necessary of printed Bengali almanacs. Much before the almanacs named after Lord
extra information. In the initial phase, at least, this formal balance was tied Ripon or Empress Victoria would appear, Pitambar Sen of Sealdah made
to a new, pragmatic sense of the proper use of time. Some of the images too an interesting effort to synchronize the authority of Siva and the power of
seem to relay this concern. the Company by having an ‘Account of Kings’ {‘Rajbibaran’ or ‘Rajabali’)
A number of almanacs from the third quarter of the nineteenth century inserted in his Bengalee Annual Almanac oi 1835-6. Written in the standard
were characterized by long opening poems. They often contained Sanskrit style of Rajaballs, the text recounted a brief history of the empire with its
verses with corresponding Bengali translations. In line with the popular
landmark events for the reader.
mythological tradition, these were styled as conversations between Siva and
280 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 281

world of new almanacs, however, religious duties and imperial obligations

emerged as intertwined, and a look at Lord Ripon’s Panjikd published in the
last years of the nineteenth century will suggest how the logic of reticulation
was reiterated through the juxtaposition of images: the serious but com-
passionate face of a bearded Viceroy on the first cover (Figure 9.3) and an
image of the elephant-headed god Ganesha on the fourth. Did viewers really
care to make a distinction? Consider, again, the new almanac published in
1875-6 by B.R. Day and Brothers, designed by Madhabchandra Siddhanta
of Serampore and printed by Siddheshwar Ghosh at Jorasanko. This well-
edited and comprehensive volume gave the important dates according to
both solar and lunar (Hijri) calendars, listed the occasions associated with
Vaisnava, Sakta, Muslim, and Christian persuasions, and did not skip even
the popular unorthodox rites. But it also firmly clung to the particulars of
different government regulations, revenue rates, stamp duties at courts of law,
and even the fee payable to the government for bringing out processions on

Figure 9.2 Conversation between Siva and Parvati, woodcut, 15.5 x 10.7,
by Krishnachandra Karmakar, Nutan panjikd, 1842-3, Chandroday Press at
Serampore. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.

The traffic between the cosmic order and the imperial chronology also reg-
istered itself in the way the checklist of ritual obligations during the Ratanti
and Vasanti Pujas was followed in quick succession hy a list of the courts of
law, a compilation of information on the police, registration offices and the
post office, and an inventory of official holidays." Similarly, the Chandroday
Press almanac of 1840—1 apprised its readers of the details of holidays in
courts, the dates and timings of their sessions, and the schedule of judi- Figure 9.3 Cover page of Lord Ripons Panjikd, 1884—5, compiled and
cial vacations. These were typically the new ‘necessary information’ which published by Benimadhab Dey, Chitpore, 1884. Courtesy of
could not have been present in the handwritten almanacs. In the discursive Bodleian Library, Oxford.
282 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 283

the city streets. Printed almanacs of the nineteenth century not only armed revenue calendar. Evidences of this tangled time lie scattered on the pages of
their readers with the knowledge of auspicious hours and the zodiac divisions nineteenth-century almanacs.'^
of the celestial pathway, but also tabularized the laws and regulations of gov- The language of printed almanacs also reflected this tension. Typically, an
ernment as well as the duties and obligations of subjects. Without the latter almanac opened with rhyming lines, continued in the caupadi metre, and
no calculation of everyday time was possible for householders in a colonial culminated in a language that belonged to the bureaucratic domain of colo-
society. nial administration. The Bengali almanac never ceased to shuttle between
Indeed, it was an extension of this principle that allowed Nrityalal Sil the poles of everyday ritual and official regulation. In fact, there is reason to
and Balaram De an edge in the competitive market of vernacular almanacs argue that both the province-wide standardization of domestic rituals and the
during the mid-1870s. Between 1874 and 1877, they introduced the style of popularization of legal-administrative knowledge became possible through
adding to their almanacs a certain number of blank pages for each month (as the circulation of almanacs. The mobility and dynamism of the form also
in a diary). The middle-class householder could now keep his temporal and ensured that certain topics and subjects could emerge or disappear in the
spiritual balance sheets together. Adding a separate section of ‘Directory’ to compilation according to the changing imperatives of life or the rules of a
the Bengali almanac, Balaram De said in 1874: competitive market.
An almanac is a most essential book. In fact, one has to consult this book every day
for conducting daily domestic affairs. 1 have worked hard to add to it a variety of Al ma na c s a n d Rit u a l Pe r f o r ma n c e
necessary details with great care. I present this almanac and directory to the general
public at a very cheap price so that everyone can use it without difficulty.'^
TUmanac images were located precisely in this assemblage of information and
power, within the space of actions prescribed in both astrological and secular
Adopting the style of English directories, Nrityalal Sil’s almanac included time. Our archive begins to fade at this point. Instances of precolonial alma-
a Bengali version of the two volumes of the Victoria Empress Directory which nacs are rare, and even memoirs do not clarify if those handwritten scrolls
contained information on several government offices, markets, shops and carried any image at all (apart from, of course, the figure of the zodiac con-
professionals. Not surprisingly, native Ayurvedic practitioners {kavirdj), mid- stellation which was a regular feature).'^ In Durgaprasad’s almanac (1818),
wives, and traders dominated this list. At times, inventories of affordable we find a picture of the solar eclipse superimposed on the zodiac image
lodgings {dharmasala) near different Indian pilgrim centres also made their (Figure 9.4). The sun and the planet Rahu occupy the upper segment of the
appearance. After all, the target audience was the native Bengali subjects of picture, but the grahabipra-like figures who raise their fingers from the sides
the Empress. of the zodiac circle maintain the balance of the frame. The maze of engraved
The power of almanacs in disseminating knowledge was recognized early. lines conjures up a dusky backdrop evoking the inky sky of a solar eclipse. In
During 1856-7, the Vernacular Literature Society of Calcutta, a distinguished such a rendition of the zodiac constellation, a pictorial depiction of folklores
forum of the local intelligentsia, published a multi-volume almanac ‘inclusive surrounding the eclipse becomes possible. The zodiac images of almanacs
of several practical matters’. Needless to say, the utilitarian thrust of these definitely acted as a prototype for illustration of Bengali books. It is to be
practical matters, such as a district-wise list of the dates of and merchandises noted that the dress and gesture of the grahabipras are hardly Brahmanical.
sold at local fairs, set these volumes more in tune with official gazetteers than Rather, they point to a distinctly European source. Perhaps an imported pic-
precolonial manuscripts maintained hy grahabipras (astrologers). In the very ture acted as a model of reference. Imitations such as this indicate a history
first volume of this almanac, there was a list of the dates of revenue collection, of exchange between the acts of reading and translating images, a history
monthly agricultural routines, and a table of exchange rates and commis- defined by an irreducible hybridity. However, it must also be pointed out that
sions in currency.*^ Such intermingling of different representational forms this picture of a solar eclipse is rather unique. I did not find a similar image
spoke to the yoking of the diurnal rites of colonial discipline to the quotidian (or even an image of the same subject) in Bengali almanacs of the next hun-
performance of social customs. In a series of sliding knots, the sacred ritual dred years. In point of fact, it is difficult to speak of a tradition continuing
occasions of a colonial society remained delicately bound up with the profane uninterrupted from the early years of the history of almanac images.
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 285

The fashion of decorating almanacs with images of festivals arranged in

their chronological sequence became established only from the 1840s. As
the organizational arrangement of printed almanacs began to stabilize, the
pictorial sections of different almanacs produced by different publishers col-
lectively repeating an order of subjects, an ‘overdetermined’ structure was in
place. Under the sign of this structure, the festival images were either placed
at the beginning of the book or distributed in separate pages across it.
We must remember that there was considerable difference between print-
ing images in almanacs and illustrating narratives such as Vidyasundara,
Rdmayana, or Mahdbhdrata. In the latter, interspersing continuous narratives
with illustrative images sought to emphasize the pivotal or climactic moments
in the story or highlight the characters therein. Frozen frames catered to the
reader’s desire for seeing pictorial expressions of verbal descriptions. The
structure of almanacs functioned quite differently. Printed almanacs had a
number of distinct sections (and all sections were not invariably present in
every almanac). Of these, the forecasting accounts, the local proverbs, the
fragments from purdnas or accounts of kings, the stories of emergence of
domestic rituals, or the description and mantras of rituals were meant to be
read. But sections such as the Directory were for quick reference, for spotting
relevant information and addresses—not for continuous reading. The texts
of nineteenth-century almanacs did not always lend themselves to the form
of an.uninterrupted narrative. They were episodic organizations of ritual and
ceremonial occasions that householders were supposed to perform during the
year. The images of these ceremonies represented them in actually perform-
able forms.
Buying, unpacking, and reading a new almanac constituted one such cer-
emony in itself. The Bengalee Annual Almanac of 1835, to which we have
already referred, had these instructions for the occasion: ‘Hear [this alma-
nac] with a pure heart and in a pure mind,/In company with friends and
in front of ritually purified leaves/With fruits and flowers in hand to offer/
... Listening to an almanac is a virtuous act’. The act of arranging a recita-
tion session was clearly rewarding: ‘Hearing the names of the years ensures a
long life,/Hearing the names of the kings cures the kingly [major] diseases’.'^
Fi^e 9.4 Solar eclipse, metal plate, 17 x 11.5, artist unknown, Looking at the images in such an exalted text also had its share of virtue.
, m^ac by Durgaprasad Vidyabhushan, Jorasanko, 1818 These images after all were displayed as idealized depictions of ceremonies
Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta. and divine beings. I am yet to find a detailed nineteenth-century narra-
tive recounting the users’ reactions to images in almanacs. Perhaps, printed
images in almanacs were not considered autonomously of the text. Titles and
captions seemingly functioned as the key to these images. In some of the
286 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

almanacs—such as the one published by Day, Law and Co. in 1867, or the
ones published by Benimadhab Dey between 1894 and 1900—attractive and
appropriate catchphrases {jigir) were printed below the images of particular
festivals, expressing the perceived mood or the desired outcome of the occa-
sions.'^ More general and consistent than putting up such slogans was the
convention of mentioning the specific dates and hours of worship or rites
against the images. Pictures in an almanac were not simply illustrative; they
participated in the world of householders by marking everyday acts. In their
participatory and performative capacities, the images continually refashioned
the Puranic, brought into focus the complex play of desire and performance
in which festivals took shape in society, and served the taste that would be
marked as popular.
In this context, Chittaranjan Bandyopadhyay’s comment concerning the
immutability of the image of Durga in Bengali almanacs attracts attention. In
almanacs, according to Bandyopadhyay, ‘images of gods and goddesses have
continued in the same style. The idol of Durga in the sarbajanin (community)
Pujas has distinctly changed over the last one hundred and fifty years, but the
image of Durga in almanacs has remained the same’.'* It cannot be denied
that in spite of some variations, the structure that Krishnachandra Karmakar
composed for the 1842 Chandroday Press almanac (Figure 9.5) has in the
main continued. What the emphasis on the ostensible repetitiveness of this
image obscures, however, is the fact that important, even radical, transforma-
tions took place over the long nineteenth century in the practices of seeing
and showing images. A comparison between the mid-century descriptions
of Hutom Pnydcdr Naksd, which found the figure of Durga at the centre of
nouveau-riche extravaganza, composed ‘in the truly Jewish and Armenian
manner’ and adorned with banners, crests, and images of unicorns,'^ and the
late-century account in Anandamath which famously identified the goddess
as the mother of the nation,^" indicates the nature of this shift. Displacements
happened, meanings changed, even if the familiar frame of the goddess
persisted. The baboo model of illustration and decoration available to nine-
teenth-century engravers such as (Figure 9.6) had no place in the stylistic
repertoire of early twentieth-century illustrators of Bengali almanacs. The
figure of Durga that emerged in twentieth-century almanacs was systemati-
cally divested of her European adornments, while new pictorial conventions
of using folded curtains and pillars were added to the image (Figure 9.7). The Figure 9.5 Durga Puja, woodcur, 15.5 r 10.7, by
project of turning a carnival of decadent baboos into the respectable national Sakar,»,u«%d7l*d Chaud,r^ay P,»,a. Se.^^^^^^ 1842 3.
festival of all Bengalis was a conflicted, protracted, and uneven process. Over Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
the years, through regular reproductions, almanacs assisted this process by
 [ ^ ’B.'S S'*<I ’IfJ 4 »K’5

b *Fi; *iw 5W^Pc*(

tr *

Figure 9.6 Durga Puja, woodcut, electro block, 16.8 x 11, Nutanpanjikd, Figure 9.7 Durga Puja, 15 x 10.3, Naba bibhdkarpanjikd, 1920-1,
1894-5, Benimadhab Dey. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta. Shambhuchandra Chatushpathi, 1920. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 291
290 new CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

popularizing an idealized structure of representing Durga. In its effort to

bridge the tastes of the elite with the demands of the popular, the visual poli-
tics of nationalism cashed in on this continuity.
In an interesting anecdote told to Rani Chanda, Abanindranath Tagore
once revealed how political necessities could open a space in almanacs for
accommodating new figures and forms of sacredness. In the early days of
the Swadeshi movement, at the behest of Rabindranath Tagore, an elaborate
ritual with mantras was prepared for the newly conceived nationalist festival
of Rakhibandhan (tying the brotherly knot). Kshetramohan, the performer-
storyteller in charge of devising the ritual, used his personal contacts to have
the ceremony included in the almanacs.^' The inclusion was not only a guar-
antee of respectability for the newfangled rite but also an assurance of its
continuity in the social life of Bengal. In order to appear traditional, a rite
had to appear on the pages of almanacs. Performance was shot through with
power, consecration with politics.
Figure 9.8 Woodcut, 22 x 22, Niitan panjikd, 1869-70, Nrityalal Sil,
A history of display must consider the role of printed images in almanacs
Calcutta, 1869. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
in relation to the wider market of books and the craftsmanship of engrav-
ers. The market for almanacs turned competitive from the middle of the
Hogalkura, Bishwambhar Karmakar, to name only a few—^we know almost
nineteenth century. Several publishers entered the fray. Advertisements pub- nothing about their social backgrounds, financial situations or the hierarchi-
lished in the almanacs themselves refer to differently priced ‘Full Almanacs’,
cal arrangement of their craft. In the academic histories of European prints,
‘Half Almanacs’, and ‘Quarter Almanacs’.^^ The printing of images had to
we are told that the woodcut and the wood-engraving were two different pro-
correspond to this reality of a stratified market. Nrityalal Sil published two cesses, that the designer or the artist was often distinct from the cutter or the
types of almanacs in the same year. In the more expensive edition, a whole
engraver, that the former usually employed the latter keeping in mind their
page was devoted to each picture, while in the low-priced edition an entire
respective styles.^^ It is difficult to obtain similar facts about artists and engrav-
bunch of images was fitted into two sides of a page, distributed into small ers of nineteenth-century Bengal. We know that Krishnachandra Karmakar
boxes (Figure 9.8).^^ Benimadhab Dey used to publish different almanacs
of Serampore both designed and engraved the images in the Chandroday
under different titles, and the pictorial contents of these books usually did
Press almanacs.^^ In the 1867—8 almanac published by Day, Law and Co.,
not match. In De’s Lord Ripons Almanac, the images of popular rites such there is an image of the cadak festival which is clearly flagged as ‘Artist and
as paus-pdrvan or bhrdtrdvitiya were drawn in a style that cannot be called
Engraver: Mr. Nafarchandra Bandyopadhyay of Chinsurah’.^^ It needs to be
anything but academic. (I could not find the name of the artist in the copy I
pointed out that none of the other images printed in the same volume puts
used.)^^ But the style of the fiill-page images in Benimadhab Dey’s Panjikd was
the word ‘Artist’ before the names of the engravers. The difference between
very different, and these images usually carried the names of the engravers. the artist and the engraver, therefore, was not entirely absent in the world of
The varying modes of displaying images gave the publishers some scope for
nineteenth-century almanacs. On the other hand, an engraver like Nrityalal
claiming distinctness in a competitive market. Datta of Jorabagan ran his own press. The works of Hiralal Karmakar of
In the nineteenth century, the artist would usually engrave his name and
Battala, again, were not confined to almanacs; there was substantial demand
address in the bottom most panel ofthe image. In a certain sense, the engravers for his woodcuts and illustrations of popular epic-Puranic texts sold as
advertised their work through these images. While this practice leaves us with
stand-alone prints. Most probably, these better known artists supervised a
a considerable list of nineteenth-century engravers—Ramdhan Swarnakar,
number of artisans, on whose work they put finishing touches. In an almanac
Krishnachandra Karmakar, Hiralal Karmakar, Panchanan Karmakar of
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 293
292 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

another instance of decorative variation, as it had the image of a large butterfly

from the 1870s, we see that Panchanan Karmakar had the image of $ivardtri
engraved on its title page, apart from the pictures of the viceroy and Ganesa.
engraved ‘by Radhaballabh Sil’.^* Again, in the 1890s, perhaps as a mecha- A skilful combination within a single frame of these different traditions of
nism of asserting proprietorship, the name of the publisher, Benimadhab De, cover design can be seen in the works of Priyagopal Das, who decorated the
came to be added to the images engraved by the same Panchanan Karmakar.
P.M. Bagchi almanacs in the early twentieth century. Among various European
But apart from these suggestive fragments, we do not have much data on the
illustrative stereotypes, the zodiac signs form a circle around the conversing
business of printing images in nineteenth-century almanacs. figures of Siva and Parvati. The setting is defined by the heavenly hills of
Kailasa with a winding river, drawn in the typical style of a theatrical backdrop
Re a d in g t h e Pr in t e d Ima g e s (Figure 9.11). In his time. Das was unparalleled in his skill of creating com-
mercial labels drawing on both local and European styles. Creating trademark
In spite of such crucial gaps in our knowledge, it is possible to suggest a emblems for a mass product like the almanac was his forte. The cover itself was
roughly tripartite division of almanac images for further analysis: the cover the emblem. Particular designs referenced particular publishing houses. This
and/or the title page, images of festivals and deities, and images used in adver- convention was already in place by the end of the nineteenth century.
tisements. During the 1830s, the cover of the Chandroday Press almanac was To come to the second set of images, I want to point to the a woodcut
not distinguished from its title page. The title was printed in both Bengali figure of a Brahman recurrently adorning the pages of various almanacs since
and Roman scripts, a feature that sharply distinguished the new almanac 1825. Comparable are the Brahman-like figures of Sarnkranti-purusa (zodiac
from its precolonial versions. The cover page functioned like a handbill: it man, symbolizing movements of the sun), and the planets Rdhu and Ketu
gave information on the places from which the almanac could be obtained.
Incidentally, this handbill-like cover page would return in the declining years
of the press. In the 1858-9 almanacs, for instance, the cover not only gave
the details of the publisher, engraver and distributors, but also evoked, some-
what desperately, the name of the deceased founder-engraver Krishnachandra
Karmakar. The name in itself had become a trademark.
But in the 1840s, during the high noon of Krishnachandra’s engrav-
ing career, the cover pages of Chandroday Press almanacs used to be
different. They followed the copybook style of what was then called mirror
titles (Figure 9.9). The page was framed as a huge, palatial entrance, with two
symmetrical lion figures guarding European-style columns on both sides. The
title of the almanac was embossed on a classical-looking tablet in the middle,
framed by a Sanskrit verse. The intended effect, undoubtedly, was grandeur
and elegance. The covers of Nrityalal Sil’s almanacs were evidently different
from Bvxishnachandra’s (Figure 9.10). Here, the engraver (and perhaps also
the designer) Heeralal Karmakar filled the backcloth with a series of doll-like
figures of the different zodiac signs, much in the manner in which a panel
in a terracotta temple was filled with multiple divine figurines. The rather
inconspicuous features of the figures had the effect, by their proliferation, of a
wild growth that filled the empty space on the margins. The thickly dark back-
cover of the same almanac however has carried a single book advertisement,
Figure 9.9 Cover/Title page, Nutan panjikd, 1842-3, Chandroday
printed in white, thereby underlining the name of the publisher prominently.
Press at Serampore. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
We may also cite Benimadhab Dey’s LordRipon’s Panjikd, mentioned earlier, as
Figure 9.10 Cover, 21 x 11, by Hiralal Karmakar, Niitan panjika, Figure 9.11 Cover, coloured process block, 16.5 x 9, P.M. Bagchi’s Niitan
1869-70, Nrityalal Sil. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta. directory panjika, preserved in the design book of Priyagopal Das,
1905. Courtesy of Arup Sengupta.
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 297

f'Q<5 '''(<1 <H\ which appeared not only in the 1835 almanac printed at the Dinasindhu Press
by Pitambar Sen, but also, and more frequently, in the Serampore almanacs

;i> 1 io I i:> 1 ^
‘(Figure 9.2)’ after ‘almanacs’. From time to time, these images were placed
inside the boxes of the zodiac diagram, almost as miniature illustrations in a
manuscript (Figure 9.13). These practices trouble the claims of self-adequacy
of printed texts. Moreover, the habit of seeing was also variously negotiated.

0\ i^iT^

5 li S

r cm
Figure 9.12 Samkrdnti-pumsa, woodcut, 11.6 x 10.6, Nutan panjikd, 1840-1, Figure 9.13 Image of Ketu, woodcut, Nutan panjikd, 1840-1, Chandroday
Chandroday Press at Serampore. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta. Press at Serampore. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
298 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

Figure 9.14 Lakshmi, woodcut, 7.5 x 11, by Ramdhan Swarnakar, Niitan

pahjikd, 1835-6, Dinasindhu Press. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.

Consider the image of Lakshmi by Ramdhan Swarnakar, for example (Figure

9.14). In the rectangular surface of the page, both the Sanskrit verse and its
Bengali translation were perpendicularly printed while the image faced the
reader straight on. In order to read the verses, one would have to rotate the
book. The image would always capture the readers attention first, reducing
the vertical lines of printed words to the status of its frame. This tension
between the organization of words and images is remarkable.
Like every other committed artist, Krishnachandra Karmakar tended to
rework and improve upon his older compositions. In the 1840 almanac of the
Chandroday Press, he published a full-page rectangular image of the chadak
festival (year-ending festival in homage to Siva) with his name engraved inside
it (Figure 9.15). The performances were framed against a Siva temple in full
view and the arrangement of figures was cluttered. In the almanac published
from the same press in 1842, we come across another cadak image by him
(Figure 9.16). The performances were more carefully organized in this one.
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 301

the temple dome was only partly visible, and a few casual strokes denoted
clouds in the sky. In the manner of displaying parts of the temple, there was a
clear projection of angular vision. The scene of gdjan was now foregrounded
and two conversing men stood out from a surging crowd. European-style
floral-patterned illustrations filled the lower panel. This was a typical pic-
ture much in demand. Its success was its condensation of all the predictable
gestures, likely figures and anticipated styles of a familiar annual ceremony
into one frame. It brought the expected within the scope of perception. But
to speak of Krishnachandra’s achievements, we need to look elsewhere. The
texture of the different activities of cadak in his work did not follow the
traditional conventions of patacitra, or the bazaar art of Kalighat, or even
the European style. The forms and figures in his image were not adjusted as
objects in a convergent perspective, and hence his style was clearly different
from the contemporary instances of European or Company Art. But he still
used cross-hatched lines in his illustrations: it was the linear representation
of gesture and movement that gave his figures their density and substance.
In terms of dimensions, on the other hand, his depiction of the ceremony
adopted the style of patacitra. The object of Krishnachandra’s design was
distinct: an economical but recognizable representation of the scene with all
its characteristic attributes and actions in the two-dimensional space of the
printed page. The ceremony as a spectacle had to be made directly accessible
to the optical organ. When we compare the controlled composition of the
second image and its use of angular vision to the cluttered order of the first, it
becomes clear how Krishnachandra continually strove to better his style and
why he came to be regarded as the master engraver by his colleagues.
We need to remember here that depictions of the scenes of cadak and
gdjan were extremely rare in the terracotta temple panels of West Bengal.^®
However, these popular festivals were portrayed in almanacs with almost
a vengeance. Although Krishnachandra’s visual account of these scenes
remained modular, other engravers sometimes modified the representation a
little, in keeping with the broad conventions. Let us look at Nrityalal Datta’s
cadak image in an almanac of 1877-8 as an example (Figure 9.17). The com-
position is almost identical to Krishnachandra’s, but the details of the figures
vary. The shape of the temple at the corner is different. The figures below
m I
are cheerful. A vendor is selling snacks in the fair. A boy is standing with his
Figure 9.16 Cadak, woodcut, 16 x 11, by Krishnachandra Karmakar, Niitan mother. In the context of terracotta temple decorations, Hitesranjan Sanyal
panjikd, 1842-3, Chandroday Press at Serampore. Courtesy of National points out a generic feature of such variations. These figures are characterized
Library, Calcutta. by their almost expressionless faces. The particularity of mood is conveyed
principally through the bodily gestures or stylized contours of the figures.
 PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 303
302 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

Figure 9.17 Cadakpuja, woodcut, 14 x 12, by Nrityalal Datta, Nutan panjikd,

title page missing, 1877—8. Personal collection of the author.

Individually, the images may have their origins in indigenous traditions or

foreign conventions or the artist’s observation of reality. But collectively they
function to strengthen the overall design.^®
We need to recognize the slippage between the successive mythological images
in the almanacs: the framework was the same, but there were changes in the
presentation of subjects. This applies to almost all images. I would particularly
refer to those of Snanayatra, Rathayatra, and ^ivaratri. We see two kinds of
representation of the Snanayatra (Bathing ceremony) festival in the almanacs
published from the Chandroday Press. The imt^e created by Krishnachandra
Karmakar in 1842 (Figure 9.18) was divided into two panels, the upper section
containing the icons of Balarama, Subhadra, and Jagannatha, and the lower sec-
tion distributed into columns and gateways. In Ramchandra Karmakar’s image
in another Chandroday almanac from the next decade (Figure 9.19), the estab-
lished structure continued, but the subject of the lower panel became different.
It showed the ritual act of bathing the god and introduced different female and
royal figures. In a similar manner, Heeralal Karmakar’s modifications in the
1869—70 almanac (published by Nrityalal Sil) were also confined to the lower
panel. The figures continued to change. Kings on elephants and Europeans Figure 9.18 Jagannatha’s Snanayatra, woodcut, 16 x 11, by Krishnachandra
in hats came together in the same image, almost suggesting a social expan- Karmakar, Nutan panjikd, 1842-3, Chandroday Press at Serampore. Courtesy
sion of the spectacle of the festival (Figure 9.20). The ceremony of Jagannatha’s of National Library, Calcutta.
 Figure 9.20 Jagannathas Snanayatra, electro block, 20 x 12,
Figure 9.19 Jagannathas Snanayatra, woodcut, 20 x 12, by Ramchandra by Hiralal Karmakar, Niitan panjikd, 1869-70, Nrityalal Sil.
Karmakar, Niitan panjikd, 1858—9, Chandroday Press at Serampore. Courtesy Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
of Uttarpara Jaykrishna Public Library.
306 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

Snanayitra, at any rate, was an assortment of diverse Brahmanical, Buddhist,

and Tantric rituals, a palimpsest of different cultural regisrers, and hence could
allow greater representational freedom.^' While the stability of the upper panel
ensured continuity of visual consumption, the minor variations in the lower
panel opened new points of departure in terms of the subject matter.
This was true for the Rathayatra (car festival) pictures too. What domi-
nated Krishnachandra Karmakar’s image was a single figure of the chariot
(rathd), itself organized into a number of panels full of different figures
(Figure 9.21). On the other hand, the lower panel of the work of Panchanan
Karmakar (published in Benimadhab Dey’s almanac) in the 1890s privileged
the dancing procession and the ecstatic crowd that gathered around and fol-
lowed the chariot (Figure 9.22). Icons realized themselves in performances.
The central figure of the ^ivaratri images was certainly the most ubiqui-
tously reproduced icon in the popular culture of nineteenth-century Bengal.
In the almanacs (of which he was the chief promulgator) Siva appeared in
a number of distinctive pictorial conventions; sitting majestically with his
semi-divine companions Nandi and Bhrhgi on the side, or wearing his
unique necklace of human skulls and accompanied by his wife (Figure 9.23).
The manner in which Nandi and Bhrhgi stood in these images, the criss-
crossed lines which were used to illustrate the pictures, the stylized use of
the bel tree, and the sitting posture of the Lord clearly set apart the almanac
images of Siva from those in the Kalighat pats. More remarkable perhaps was
the image engraved by Panchanan Karmakar and published in the 1894—5
almanac of Benimadhab Dey (Figure 9.24). In placing a bow-carrying figure
on a tree (purported to represent the legendary Wicked Hunter) alongside
Siva, Karmakar inserted a solitary almanac image into a longer series of folk
narratives. If the act of adding this figure had evoked a well-known story,
then the social memory of thar story now made possible a particular way of
reading the image, even without an accompanying written commentary.
Then again, there were also those images (notably of Janmduaml and of
‘The Descent of Gahga) which clearly employed the narrative conventions
of patacitra: the successive scenes of a particular story ran in a row within
horizontal panels, vividly resembling the act of writing and without demand-
ing any other adjustment from the literate eye (Figure 9.25). A similar style
is found in book illustrations. In this set of conventions, there would not Figure 9.21 Rathayatra, woodcut, 15.5 x 10.7, by Krishnachandra
be much difference between reading the almanac images and viewing the Karmakar, Niitan panjika, 1842-3, Chandroday Press at Serampore.
mythological patacitra narratives. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
One can say that there is a lowest common denominator in every age of
viewing popular images. This is the standard taste, brought into being through
V j,^,
is f*T?atr® i
Figure 9.22 Rathaydtra, electro block, 17.5 x 11, by Panchanan
Karmakar, Nutan panjika, 1900-1, Benimadhab Dey & Co.
Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
Figure 9.23 ^ivardtri, woodcut, 21 x 12, by Panchanan Karmakar, Nutan
panjikd, 1870—1, Harihar Press. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
 '* p
• c^t’T c^t^r f-n ^?i :’’P'^'^5 ,* • ’’
Figure 9.25 Dasahard gahgd o manasdpiijd-, woodcut, 17.5 x 11, by
Figure 9.24 Sivardtri, woodcut, 17 x 11, by Panchanan Karmakar, Nutan Panchanan Karmakar, Nutan panjikd, 1894-5, Benimadhab Dey & Co,
panjikd, 1894—5, Benimadhab Dey & Co. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
312 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 313

various common viewing practices. In the last decade of the nineteenth contest over taste was primarily focused on the style of these advertisements.
century, reflecting on his encounter with the mythological paintings of Ravi We need to remember that in spite of their prominence, the mythological
Varma, Rabindranath Tagore spoke of the commonly accepted norm of read- pictures did not serve as the sole model for commercial visuals in alma-
ing images. The poet was not as enthusiastic about Varma as was his nephew nacs. Mythological characters were, of course, present. But contemporary
Balendranath. Nor was he much concerned with the stylistic details of the European fashion also made its way into the Bengali almanac (Figure 9.26).
paintings or the artistic ideals of ancient India. Instead, he was thinking about
the popularity of mythological paintings in the context of the tradition of
viewing. He knew that it was ‘easy to find fault’ with these pictures. Bur
the real question, he thought, was something else; namely, what the viewers
expected from these images. The acceptability of the images sprang from the
familiarity of their themes: these were ‘native themes’, and so ‘our mind begins
to cooperate with the painter’s effort. We anticipate what he is trying to say
and get it before he says so. If we can recognize his effort, we complete the
rest’.^^ What is expected from an image flows from this foreknowledge, this
very style of collective presentiment. This is the lowest common denominator
of viewing. Both in their attempt to portray what the people expected and
in their capacity to embody an accepted visual norm in a certain historical
period, almanac images of festivals become a part of social performance itself
In this context, it is meaningful to remember Ernst Gombrich’s observation
of the tension between repetition of conventionality at the structural level and
minor modifications at the level of subject matter or illustration. Almanacs and
their images were required to negotiate both the suturing of different, hetero-
geneous times and the performance of rituals in regular everyday cycles. This
was the sense of order at work. The routinized actions of the everyday informed
the cliches with which the textual and visual designs were suffused. European
almanacs suffered equally from this. Bernard Capp notices ‘a steadfast rejec-
tion of originality’ in English almanacs.^'^ Repetition of habits renders every
scheme static. In the repetitiveness of frames, too, the slight displacements in
subject matter actually incite the power of the original scheme. The recurrence
of the structure creates a familiar space, and the viewing eye remains trapped
in this space. Varying figural combinations within this space create the aura of
its distinctiveness. It is the tension between the recurrence of the structure and
the variations of subject matter that guides the viewer’s attention to the viewed
object. Through habit, his expectation translates into a visual norm. The pro-
cess neither allows a burst of visual surprise to overpower the viewing habits nor
induces the monotony of repetition to completely overtake the viewing agent.^^
Finally, advertisements. Advertisements began to appear in almanacs from
the 1880s and their number substantially increased from the next decade. Figure 9.26 ‘Siva giving salsa (tonic), woodcut, 8x7, advertisement of
Books, various medications, and many other items wete advertised here. N.C. Mukherjee & Co, Nutanpanjikd, 1898-9, Benimadhab De & Co.,
Indeed, circulation-wise, there was hardly a more effective vehicle. The Vidyaratna Press. Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta.
314 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA
PICTURES IN CELESTIAL AND WORLDLY TIME 315

In any case, the standard of judging these images had to be different. Since of Dhanvantari [the celestial physician] descending from heaven with a bottle of
the overriding imperative was that of popularity and saleability, the ques- medicine in his hand are not uncommon. The names of the medicines, printed with
tion of stylistic agreement took a back seat. The artists created such hybrid various special [engraved] blocks, are then placed in these advertisements and they
images in the hope of drawing attention and stirring up desire. The accom- are further decorated, glamourized and beautified by all means.^^
panying texts also followed this rule. Take, for example, the advertisement of
‘These comments, couched in a language of warning against allurements
Kaviraj Haralal Gupta Kaviratna’s medicinal product ‘Mahameda Rasayana
of advertisements, underline the arrival of a new visual genre of commercial
in the 1890 almanac of Benimadhab Dey (Figure 9.27). The engraved image
art pervading a wide arena of popular vision full of colour and glamour, the-
placed right in the middle of the vertically arranged text was presented as evi-
matically a mixture of the earthly and the divine.’ history of almanac images
dence of the truth of the text. And a supposedly scientific explication of male
shows how visual representations of commodities gradually became indis-
reproductive powers was also provided through the symbol of the sperm.
pensable in the world of consumption, even in those spaces where religious
The commercial logic of the visual design was prepared to use every available
ritual was deeply embedded in everyday life. These images were a site of the
resource. The ethical implications of such advertisements were, of course,
intertwining of desire, taste, and piety. In the history of social practices, the
hotly debated at the time. The following excerpt may be cited:
pleasing display of commodities, along with the resonant voice of vendors
Captivated by the gorgeous splendour of the advertisements put up by these traders, and the seductive incitement of advertisements, inserts the acts of consump-
ordinary village people buy and consume these medicines in the hope of saving their tion in the sensory, corporeal regime of everyday practice.
lives, only to find themselves cheated at every step. ... In the first page of [such] an
advertisement are printed the images of gods and goddesses, bordered with peculiar
designs of flowers, leaves and figures of angels; amidst all this, the names of “This No t e s
Company” and “That Company” are written in strange cursive styles. Even pictures
1Sripantha, Jakhan chdpdkhdnd elo (Calcutta: Banga Samskriti Sammelan, 1977),
pp. 88-9.
2 Pranabranjan Ray, ‘Printing by Woodblock upto 1901: A Social and Techno-
logical History’, in Asit Paul (ei). Woodcut Prints ofNineteenth Century Calcutta
.S S' S f s mn (Calcutta: Seagull Books, 1983).
3 Sukumar Sen, Battaldr chdpd o chabi (Calcutta: Ananda, 1989).
■ffi'
4 Partha Mitter, Art and Nationalism in Colonial India, 1850—1922: Occidental
I. E Orientations (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994).
k u
if » 5 Chittaranjan Bandyopadhyay, ‘Bafigla panjika, Bahga-prasahga (Calcutta:
^ r. E E B Pustak Bipani, 1987), pp. 38-58.
»- lE s >£
6 Jogeshchandra Roy Vidyanidhi, Atmacarit (Bankura: Swastik, 2002), p. 2 and
^ ? r 5 rp
pp. 42-3.
Ws” PiRw ’■ 7 Durgaprasad Vidyabhushan, Panjikd (Title page missing, 1225 b./ 1818-19);
jR»i¥i 'PW •rtfii aft »ni5'«wii to sen w copy in National Library, Calcutta.
jw. itwpnt TOij ?»t 8 Brajendranath Bandyopadhyay (ed.), Sahgbddpatre sekdler kathd, Vol. I
*1?PTOI TO ^31t 1
^ wfsai ssfli (Calcutta: Bangiya Sahitya Parishat, c. 1932), pp. 60—2; Vol. II, p. 164.
If nI 9 Anjan Mukhopadhyay, ‘Balir pandit samaj’, Sdnnidhya, September 2008,
pp. 54—8. I am indebted to Professor Brajadulal Chattopadhyay for referring
I ^tSlf 5|tw I
sfftwnlnr «t«t ?? me to this source.
5^ (S* I 55 fra I «iW5 tilai tiim « t o 5- 10 Niitan panjikd (Serampore: Chandroday Press, 1842).
11 The Bengalee Annual Almanac, Nutan panjikd (Calcutta: Dinasindhu Press,
Figure 9.27 Advertisement of Mahameda Rasayana, Vrhat Ayurvedlya
1242 b./1835-36).
Ausadhalaya, Upper Chitpore Road, woodcut, 5.5 x 6, Niitanpanjikd, 12 Introduction, Bengalee Almanac and Directory, 1874—5, B.R. Day and Brothers,
1898—9, Benimadhab Dey & Co., Vidyaratna Press. Jorasanko, Advaita Jantralaya. Paiijikd-directory, 1878—79, compiled and pub-
Courtesy of National Library, Calcutta. lished by Nrityalal Sil, Ahiritola.
 316 NEW CULTURAL HISTORIES OF INDIA

13 ‘Banglar mela panjikar panjite’, Kaushiki, Special Issue, 1997, p. 65.

14 See Ranajit Guha, ‘The Advent of Punctuality’ and ‘A Colonial City and Its

I __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Time(s)’ in his. The Small Voice ofHistory: CollectedEssays, ed., Partha Chatter] ee
(Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2009), pp. 391^34 for a wonderful discussion of
the issue.
15 Jatindra Mohan Bhattacharjee, Catalogus Catalogorum of Bengali Manuscripts, 10
Vol. 1 (Calcutta: The Asiatic Society, 1978), p. 117. See also, the statement of
Kailashchandra Smrititirtha, cited in Sankar Sengupta, Bdhgdli jibane hibdha Football and Collective Identity in Colonial
(Calcutta, 1974), pp. 217-8.
16 The Bengalee Annual Almanac, Nutan pahjikd (Calcutta: Dinasindhu Press, 1
I
Calcutta I
1242 b./1835-6).
17 Cf Niitanpanjikd 1898-99 (Calcutta: Benimadhab Dey and Co., 1898).
18 Bandyopadhyay,‘Bahgla panjika, p. 54.
j Partha Chatterjee
19 Arun Nag (ed.), Satik hutom phydcdr naksd (Calcutta: Ananda, 2008), pp. 72,
85, 88, 245.
20 Bahkim Chandra Chattopadhyay, ‘Anandamath’, in Bahkim racandbali, vol. 1
(Calcutta: Sahitya Sansad, 2000), pp. 666-7.
21 Abanindranath Tagore and Rani Chanda, Gharoyd (Calcutta: Visva-Bharati,
1941).
Fo o t b a l l a s a Ma n l y Spo r t
22 Indranarayan Chosh, Niitan panjikd, 1873—74 (Calcutta: Sudhanidhi, 1873).
23 Niitan panjikd, /S65*-70 (Calcutta: Nrityalal Sil, 1869). Like many other things British and urban, soccer, or ‘association football’, to
24 LordRipon’s Pahjikd, 7584^5 (Calcutta: Arunoday Chosh, 1883). use its proper name, began in Calcutta soon after its emergence in British
25 Anthony CtifFiths, Prints and Print Making: An Introduction to the History and cities. Being a largely working-class sport in Britain, it was played in the late
Techniques (London: The British Museum, 2004), pp. 13-27. nineteenth century by British soldiers stationed in India and by Europeans and
26 Shripantha,chdpdkhdnd elo, p. 17. Eurasians in the railways, the police, and other services. It was also adopted
27 Niitan pahjikd 1867—68 (Calcutta: Day, Law and Co., 1867).
enthusiastically by rapidly growing numbers of Indians who started neighbour-
28 Paul (ed.). Woodcut Prints, pp. 18, 28.
29 Amiyakumar Bandyopadhyay, ‘Mandir bhaskarye pratiphalita samajcitra’, in hood football clubs in cities like Calcutta. The best white teams played against
one another on the sprawling grounds of Fort William in the centre of the city.
Ashok Upadhyay and Indrajit Chaudhuri (eds), Pascimbahger mandir terdkotd.
(Calcutta: Bangiya Sahitya Patishad, 2009), p. 94. The Indian teams played barefoot in sundry open spaces in the native quarters.
30 Hitesranjan Sanyd, ‘Mandir sthapatyalahkar’, in ibid., p. 65. An argument has been made that the ‘games ethic’ of Victorian public
31 See K.C. Misra, The Cult ofJaganndtha (Calcutta: Firma KLM, 1984), pp. schools became a useful pedagogical tool for disciplining a colonized middle-
. 123—30 for details of the Snanayatra rituals. class into civilized citizens of the empire.’ From the late nineteenth century,
32 Chintaharan Chakravarti, Hindur dear anusthan (Calcutta, 1970), p. 32. European school teachers and missionaries tried to introduce the game
33 Rabindranath Tagore, Chinna patrdbali, 1893, Letter no. 94, quoted in
among Indian students in schools and colleges as part of a general attempt to
Satyendranath Ray (ed.), $ilpacintd: Rabindra racandsahkalan (Calcutta, 1996),
p. 257. inculcate physical training and the moral lessons of hard work, team spirit,
34 Bernard Capp, Astrology and the Popular Press: English Almanacs, 1500-1800 and obedience to authority. In the case of Bengal, there was the additional
(London: Faber and Faber, 1979), p. 66. consideration of instilling ‘manliness’ among a people long regarded by the
35 Ernst Hans Combrich, The Sense ofOrder: A Study in the Psychology ofDecorative British as cowardly, effeminate, and physically weak. In the context of the
Art (London: Phaidon, 1979), pp. 151-2, 191—3. new socio-biological theories of race, the physical deficiency of the Bengalis
36 Kalikumar Datta, Kesabbdbur guptakathd bd piirbbabahger jaladasyur itibrtta. was, not surprisingly, linked to the backward practices of their culture, such
(Calcutta, 1908), pp. 206-7.
as their sedentary habits, poor diet, and child marriage.