Just Like That: Why a Delhi couple's artistic passion shines through the mundane
In the municipal hustle of metropolises, one often runs into people who stand out for the simple fact that they are above the conventional seductions that motivate most other people. The majority are overwhelmed by the daily vicissitudes of living, or pursuing the same goals of money, power, consumerism or winning the rat race of success. But there are some who live in their own world, of trying to do something different, of pursuing an unusual creativity, of being above normal considerations of cost and benefit, of being, in short, possessed by the passion of a different yardstick of satisfaction.
One couple that I have come to know recently in Delhi, who typifies this difference are Sanjay and Shampa Sircar Das. They are both products of the College of Art in the city. Sanjay's passion is photography. Shampa's obsession is painting. For several years now, Sanjay has left the relative comfort of his Chittaranjan Park home, to go into deliberate anonymity, scouring the countryside of West Bengal.
His aim was to photograph and chronicle the amazing terracotta structures of the state. Terracotta is the craft of baking clay to make things of use, play or embellished structures. To make intricate carvings using this technique is a remarkable and sophisticated aesthetic. The terracotta temples of Bishnupur in the Bankura District, protected by the ASI, attract throngs of tourists, Vaishnava devotees and photographers. However, the temples Sanjay discovered were far beyond the realms of Bishnupur. They were spread across the recesses of all of Bengal, ranging from Bardhaman to Murshidabad, Krishnanagar to Purulia, and many more sites.
The terracotta temples are found only in Bengal. They were built by the regional kings and zamindars starting from the 15th century, some for their personal use within their homes, and others outside for the public. It was, as Sanjay says, 'like discovering architectural gold'. His journey is replete with delightful anecdotes, of how in the remotest parts of the state, travelling in boats and animal carts, he lived with the villagers, who were invariably large hearted in the meagre hospitality they could afford.
With the occasional fish curry for dinner, and 'murri' (flattened rice) and tea for breakfast, Sanjay laboured on, photographing beautiful murals and structures, so overgrown with vegetation that he was perennially warned of snakes and dacoits. Finally, he has visually chronicled this forgotten, languishing treasure trove. His Exhibition of photographs, curated by Ina Puri, will open at the Cymroza Art Gallery in Mumbai on 28th May. It is then scheduled to travel to Pune, and will hopefully come to Delhi, and above all, Kolkata.
Sanjay and Shampa's son, Shashwat, who is 26, has his parent's sense of fakiri or abandon. He has for the last many years cycled across most of India and Nepal with his camera. His obvious talent in photography has won him now a scholarship in Salzburg to pursue his craft further. The interesting thing is that both Sanjay and Shampa were not the least worried about their son's unconventional waywardness. In fact, in their conversations with me, they seemed quite happy that he is happy doing what he wants, much like their own attitude to life.
While I am a great admirer of Shampa's work, I have a special affinity with what Sanjay has done. India is so rich in the range of its creative expressions, and so much of it is lying neglected, or even worse, under serious threat of being destroyed and lost forever to posterity. It was this concern that led me many years ago to write my book on the Havelis of Old Delhi, where with Sondeep Shankar, the well-known photographer, we could chronicle what remained of these magnificent structures before they were heedlessly pulled down to build ugly commercial buildings. The beautiful terracotta structures of West Bengal—which I think should be in UNESCO's World Heritage list—are under the same threat. I would seriously urge both the central and the West Bengal governments to see Sanjay's work, and try and save these priceless terracotta heritage from further decline or oblivion.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Hindu
a day ago
- The Hindu
In search of Chilika's Irrawaddy dolphins
'Will we see the Irrawaddy dolphins?' This is the first question I ask our boatman Sanjay Das. 'If we are lucky,' he replies in Odia, that our guide and in-house naturalist Karan Giri from Rambha Palace, translates. Dawn has just broken over the Chilika Lake. The boat-ride, organised for guests at the boutique hotel, takes off from Rambha in Ganjam district. As Sanjay manoeuvres the boat into the water with a stick-like oar, a flock of black-tailed godwits searches the sludgy shores nearby for food, their long legs aiding them in the task. A pied kingfisher swoops into the water, and we also see the majestic Brahminy kite perched atop a pole. More birds make their appearance — such as the Indian spot-billed duck, grey-headed swamphen, and whiskered tern — and soon enough, I realise Chilika is not just about the dolphins. 'It is a haven for birds, some of them resident, while some are visitors who stop by seasonally along their migratory route,' points out Karan. With no other boat as far as the eye can see, that morning, it is just us, the lake, and the occasional bird that flies past. Suddenly, Sanjay slows down, pointing towards movement in the water some distance away. To the untrained eye, it appears like a series of ripples on the surface. I see nothing, but the others in the boat are excited; Karan readies his camera. The trick is to take a deep breath, calm down, and observe. And when I do, I see them: a lightning flash of two grey fins that emerge, then disappear. It is a pod of Irrawaddy dolphins. The pod, that Sanjay says has around three to four animals, swims at a brisk pace, treating us to a vision of their fins and a glimpse of their upper body a few more times. They then disappear into the water. The elusive Irrawaddy dolphins, unlike their more flamboyant bottle-nosed counterparts, are shy animals. Highly-endangered, they have a rounded nose and are related to killer whales. Wildlife filmmaker Shekar Dattatri documented them for his film, Chilika - Jewel of Odisha, which was commissioned by the Chilika Development Authority. The film, available on YouTube, depicts the importance of Chilika, which, at nearly 1000 sq km, is India's largest brackish water lake, and Asia's second largest. 'The film highlights Chilika's beauty, biodiversity, and conservation challenges,' explains Shekar, who shot the film in 2013. His team spent over 45 days at Chilika, filming birds, crabs, and the people who depend on the lake for their livelihood. The 20-minute film also features the rare Irrawaddy dolphins and shows how they are impacted by uncontrolled dolphin tourism. 'When you mention dolphins, most people think of bottle-nosed dolphins and their acrobatics,' says Shekar. 'Irrawaddy dolphins, however, are very shy. All you get to see most of the time is just the dorsal fin or the tail. They don't jump out of the water much,' he says, adding that it was quite challenging to film them. Their elusive nature, according to Samir Kumar Sinha, chief ecologist with the Wildlife Trust of India, also limits scientists from comprehensively studying them. 'Irrawaddy dolphins, like other dolphin species, surface to inhale oxygen approximately every 2.5 minutes at most. For the remainder of the time, they stay underwater — feeding, moving, or interacting with other individuals. Their surfacing is very quiet, often without noticeable splashes, making them difficult to detect. Additionally, their underwater behaviour is challenging to observe,' he says, adding that they are found in the Chilika lagoon throughout the year. Excessive tourism at the lake, especially at Satapada in the south-eastern part of the lagoon, is disturbing the gentle animals. In his film, Shekar shows how noisy boat engines and boat-operators chasing the animals relentlessly, poses serious threats. Samir Kumar says that in order to protect the dolphins and their habitat, 'boats should operate in accordance with the guidelines issued by the authorities'. Shekar has also written a picture book titled Ira the Little Dolphin, published by Tulika, to introduce the little-known species to children. It has some charming photos of the dolphins doing back flips as well as them standing erect on the water to check out their surroundings. 'We must take care of Chilika so that its dolphins, birds, and people can have a peaceful life,' reads the last line in the book. As we hop off the boat, with the dolphins behind us, it is this thought that Sanjay, our boatman, echoes. 'We keep our distance from them so that they are able to live in peace,' he says. Only a few minutes ago, he refused to move the boat even an inch closer to the dolphins once they came into view. He waited till they swam away before turning on his boat's rackety engine.
Hindustan Times
25-05-2025
- Hindustan Times
Just Like That: Why a Delhi couple's artistic passion shines through the mundane
In the municipal hustle of metropolises, one often runs into people who stand out for the simple fact that they are above the conventional seductions that motivate most other people. The majority are overwhelmed by the daily vicissitudes of living, or pursuing the same goals of money, power, consumerism or winning the rat race of success. But there are some who live in their own world, of trying to do something different, of pursuing an unusual creativity, of being above normal considerations of cost and benefit, of being, in short, possessed by the passion of a different yardstick of satisfaction. One couple that I have come to know recently in Delhi, who typifies this difference are Sanjay and Shampa Sircar Das. They are both products of the College of Art in the city. Sanjay's passion is photography. Shampa's obsession is painting. For several years now, Sanjay has left the relative comfort of his Chittaranjan Park home, to go into deliberate anonymity, scouring the countryside of West Bengal. His aim was to photograph and chronicle the amazing terracotta structures of the state. Terracotta is the craft of baking clay to make things of use, play or embellished structures. To make intricate carvings using this technique is a remarkable and sophisticated aesthetic. The terracotta temples of Bishnupur in the Bankura District, protected by the ASI, attract throngs of tourists, Vaishnava devotees and photographers. However, the temples Sanjay discovered were far beyond the realms of Bishnupur. They were spread across the recesses of all of Bengal, ranging from Bardhaman to Murshidabad, Krishnanagar to Purulia, and many more sites. The terracotta temples are found only in Bengal. They were built by the regional kings and zamindars starting from the 15th century, some for their personal use within their homes, and others outside for the public. It was, as Sanjay says, 'like discovering architectural gold'. His journey is replete with delightful anecdotes, of how in the remotest parts of the state, travelling in boats and animal carts, he lived with the villagers, who were invariably large hearted in the meagre hospitality they could afford. With the occasional fish curry for dinner, and 'murri' (flattened rice) and tea for breakfast, Sanjay laboured on, photographing beautiful murals and structures, so overgrown with vegetation that he was perennially warned of snakes and dacoits. Finally, he has visually chronicled this forgotten, languishing treasure trove. His Exhibition of photographs, curated by Ina Puri, will open at the Cymroza Art Gallery in Mumbai on 28th May. It is then scheduled to travel to Pune, and will hopefully come to Delhi, and above all, Kolkata. Sanjay and Shampa's son, Shashwat, who is 26, has his parent's sense of fakiri or abandon. He has for the last many years cycled across most of India and Nepal with his camera. His obvious talent in photography has won him now a scholarship in Salzburg to pursue his craft further. The interesting thing is that both Sanjay and Shampa were not the least worried about their son's unconventional waywardness. In fact, in their conversations with me, they seemed quite happy that he is happy doing what he wants, much like their own attitude to life. While I am a great admirer of Shampa's work, I have a special affinity with what Sanjay has done. India is so rich in the range of its creative expressions, and so much of it is lying neglected, or even worse, under serious threat of being destroyed and lost forever to posterity. It was this concern that led me many years ago to write my book on the Havelis of Old Delhi, where with Sondeep Shankar, the well-known photographer, we could chronicle what remained of these magnificent structures before they were heedlessly pulled down to build ugly commercial buildings. The beautiful terracotta structures of West Bengal—which I think should be in UNESCO's World Heritage list—are under the same threat. I would seriously urge both the central and the West Bengal governments to see Sanjay's work, and try and save these priceless terracotta heritage from further decline or oblivion.
Indian Express
25-05-2025
- Indian Express
36 hours on board an Amrit Bharat train: ‘There is water in the toilet… How can this be a general coach?'
Sanjay Kumar, 38, puts train travel in perspective — no romance of the rails, just pure strategy. 'Agar aap dabdaba nahi dikhaiyega toh baithane ko bhi nahi milega (If you don't show your might, you won't even get a place to sit). This is the reality of the general class compartment.' Sitting by an open window, legs folded, he says, 'This time, I am lucky. I usually don't get the window seat… I don't even get to sit.' Sanjay, a mechanic from Gopalganj in Bihar, is on board the Saharsa-Lokmanya Tilak Terminus Amrit Bharat, one of a series of 50 affordable express trains for general- and sleeper-class passengers that the government plans to run on routes that see high movement of migrant workers. While the Saharsa-Mumbai train is the third Amrit Bharat express (after Darbhanga-Delhi and Malda-Bengaluru), it is the first in the Amrit Bharat 2.0 series – non-AC trains with upgraded facilities, which, the government says, will 'provide affordable service and high-quality travelling experience for people in the lower-income and lower-middle-income category'. The trains are part of the Railways' larger Amrit Bharat project to modernise trains and railway stations. On May 22, Prime Minister Narendra Modi inaugurated 103 Amrit Bharat railway stations through video conference. With 11 general coaches, eight reserved sleeper coaches, two second-class luggage-cum-guard coaches, and one pantry car, the Amrit Bharat trains promise to revolutionise the way much of India travels. Kumar, who is on his way to Mumbai for an interview that he hopes will land him a job in the Middle East, says, 'For AC class passengers, travelling can be a leisure activity. You can sit by the window and watch the passing landscape, but for us, most of the time, we barely get to move or look outside — the whole coach is so jam-packed. People often ask how we manage to travel in such conditions. The answer is simple. There is so much else to worry about that a difficult train journey of 24-48 hours seems normal.' A sudden shower brings a cool draft into the coach and Sanjay, his left arm now wet from the rain that has splattered the open window, looks outside, smiling. Around eight hours ago, as the train, new and gleaming, stood on Platform No. 2 of Saharsa station, many had peeped in through the window bars of a general coach, incredulous. 'Yeh toh AC-type train lag raha hai (This looks like an AC coach),' says Mithun Kumar Chaudhary, a mason from Samhar Khurd village in Bihar. Instead of the usual worn-out blue seats and broken fittings were saffron and grey seats with air-spring suspension for passenger comfort, charging sockets with multiple ports, external emergency lights, radium-illuminated flooring strips, gleaming fans and an LED display with real-time information on the speed of the train and the next station. The train also has an emergency talk-back system in each of its coaches that allows passengers to communicate with the loco pilot. The train had finally set off from Saharsa at 4.20 am for a 1,956-km journey that it would cover in almost 36 hours, stopping at 25 stations across four states. Around 3.10 pm, minutes after the train crosses the Karamnasa, a tributary of the Ganga that marks the border between Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, it pulls into Deen Dayal Upadhyay Junction (earlier Mughalsarai). Boarding the general coach, Mukesh Singh whips off his scarf, wipes the shiny seat and looks around: 'Yeh general coach hi hai naa, itani khali kaise hai, ye toh sleeper coach jaisa lag raha ha (This is a general coach, isn't it? Why is it so empty? It looks like a sleeper coach),' Singh says. Most long-distance trains have not more than four general coaches, as a result of which a 100-seat coach is often packed with an average of 300 passengers. But with 11 general coaches on this train, almost all passengers have a seat to themselves. Singh is on his way to Goregaon in Mumbai, where he works as a tailor. 'Mumbai has a lot of big buildings. Whenever I pass them, I wonder what must be going on inside those glass buildings. It's the same with the AC class. Everyone looks so happy. Musafir woh bhi hain, musafir hum bhi hain, ek hi train mein hain, lekin hum dono mein zameen-aasman ka farq hai (People in AC coaches and us… We are both travellers on the same train, but there is a big difference between us). But at least on this train everyone looks equal,' he says. With a sleeper class ticket between Saharsa and Mumbai for Rs 870 and a general class ticket for Rs 450, the fares on Amrit Bharat are competitive, say Railway officials. The sleeper class fare on the route is Rs 45 less than Humsafar Express and Rs 70 cheaper than the Saharsa-Lokmanya Tilak Terminus special. Manufactured at the Integral Coach factory (ICF) in Chennai, Amrit Bharat 2.0 trains feature semi-automatic couplers instead of semi-permanent ones for easy attachment and detachment of coaches, and electro-pneumatic-assisted brake system for quick brake application. There are also external emergency lights to provide basic lighting during emergency situations such as derailments and accidents. Besides, the toilets have a vacuum evacuation system similar to that on Vande Bharat trains, toilet indicator lights and automatic hygiene odour control systems. At 5.20 pm, the train reaches Prayagraj Cheoki station. A group of people huddle around Coach GS5, peeping in through the windows. They are headed to Mumbai, but many among them insist it's not a general coach and are scared they'll be fined if they board it. One of them, Mohammad Dilshad, finally walks up to a Railway Protection Force member to confirm, before the group finally boards the train. 'It's hard to believe this is a general compartment. The seats are new, the coach is clean and there is running water in the toilet… there's handwash too. How can this be a general coach? In the other trains, the upper berth would be so high that people would have to sit for 25-30 hours with their heads bent. Those seats are hard… Most of the time the fans don't work. Luckily, not many people know about this train yet. Once they do, this may end up like all those trains,' says Dilshad, who works at a jeans workshop in Nallasopara, Mumbai. Five years since the Covid-19 pandemic, while AC 3-tier has displaced the sleeper class to become the top passenger revenue generating class of the Indian Railways, the general compartments of long-route trains continue to retain their position as the second highest earning class of the national carrier. According to the data available with the Ministry of Railways, in 2024-25, 236 crore or 32% of the total 737 crore passengers who travelled in trains did so in general class compartments. As evening sets in and the train passes through Satna Railway Station in Madhya Pradesh, IPL cricket commentary blares out of several phones. Sumitra Devi walks out of one of the washrooms and can't stop smiling, 'I have never seen such a clean toilet. Toilet main log bhi nahi baithe hain… Yeh to pura AC coach lagta hain (There are no squatters inside the toilet. It looks like an AC coach),' says Devi, who is travelling with 11 of her family members. It's 6.20 am on Day 2 and the train now races past open tracts on the outskirts of Khandwa in Madhya Pradesh. Anzar Alam, a vendor from Darbhanga, makes the rounds of the coaches, his bucket filled with jal jeera, soft drinks and other beverages. 'In any train, the maximum earnings are from the general compartments. Since this train has 11 general coaches, it's good for people like me,' says Alam. Some 25 hours into the journey, Milan Patil, a 'mechanical staff', who does maintenance work on the train, steps out of one of the washrooms. 'Some of the passengers are not using the push tap installed in the toilet and the wash basin. We have already got a complaint of a missing tap in one of the coaches,' he says, annoyed. On the outskirts of Mumbai, the train slows down as it passes tall buildings and bustling markets. At 4 pm on Day 2, the Amrit Bharat finally pulls into Platform No. 7 of Lokmanya Tilak Terminus. Nand Kishore Mukhiya and his family members – seven of them, all residents of Baijnathpur in Saharsa who work in a steel factory in Panvel – scramble to assemble their luggage. 'Yeh safar poora hua… Hum pravasi log sadak ki tarah hain. Isse guzarne waale log kahan se kahan pahuch jaate hain. Lekin sadak usi jagah bana rehta hai (This journey comes to an end… We migrants are like the road. People who take it reach places, but the road remains the same),' Mukhiya says, heaving a bag onto his shoulder and stepping off the train. Dheeraj Mishra is a Principal correspondent with The Indian Express, Business Bureau. He covers India's two key ministries- Ministry of Railways and Ministry of Road Transport & Highways. He frequently uses the Right to Information (RTI) Act for his stories, which have resulted in many impactful reports. ... Read More
