The quiet loss of an audio-visual storytelling tradition
The Bengali word pat literally means cloth, rooted in the Sanskrit patta, and chitra means paintings. Therefore, the etymological meaning of patachitra corresponds to a form of paintings on cloth. In practice, the term patachitra refers to a distinctive form of Bengali folklore—an indigenous audio-visual storytelling tradition that emerged within the sacred Bengali landscape. This particular Bengali form of storytelling is often translated as scroll painting due to the distinctive rectangular size and shape of the pats. People who are engaged in making patachitra are called patuas, comprising both Hindus and Muslims. Patuas serve as an intersecting node between visual representation and oral narrative, performing an audio-visual storytelling tradition known as pater gan. While performing, the patuas slowly unroll the pats (scrolls) and unfold the corresponding stories, in which the two wings of audio and visual are merged into one body of art—better described as one discursive tradition of knowledge.
Patachitra is considered one of the oldest Bengali forms of audio-visual storytelling; however, there is no historical clarity regarding when it specifically emerged in Bengal. Amid ongoing scholarly debates about its origins, some researchers suggest that patachitra first emerged under Buddhist influence and later absorbed a wide range of narrative traditions—mythological stories, Hindu gods and goddesses, local motifs, characters from the mangal kavya, and elements of Sufi and fakir practices deeply embedded in the Bengali sacred landscape.
Indigenous methods of fabric preparation, natural colour making, drawing patterns, tone, and rhythm have made this tradition distinctive. It remained apart from European forms of painting—at least during its inception—as it emerged not merely as an institutional practice of aesthetics but as an indigenous way of crafting and curating social life. Historical evidence shows that, alongside Bangladesh, this form of storytelling is also traceable in the northeastern parts of India, West Bengal, Odisha, and some other regions of South Asia.
In 2010, a group of Hindu and Muslim patuas, also known as chitrakars, gathered in the village of Pingla in the Midnapore district of West Bengal and collectively established a Patua art hub to connect their scroll paintings with both local and global markets.
Bahadur Chitrakor, a patua from Pingla, shared that nowadays the Patua profession no longer exists as it was practised in earlier times.Traditionally, patuas travelled from village to village, performing audio-visual stories spanning mythological and religious worlds, entertaining both Hindu and Muslim audiences, as patachitra encompassed both cosmological imaginations. Generations of patuas have engaged in this hereditary profession, which relies on oral and visual knowledge. In return for their performances, they made no specific demands; audiences offered rice, vegetables, food, and other exchangeable items. Hence, patuas were once also called beggars, as they did not demand but received gifts.
His reflections make it clear that in earlier times, patachitra functioned not only as a traditional art form but also as a vital source of livelihood. In this way, three dimensions were woven together: the transmission of knowledge, the practice of audio-visual storytelling as a communal art, and the everyday means through which patuas sustained their lives.
In Bangladesh today, patachitra is seldom practised or performed, save for a few isolated exceptions. A couple of years ago in the Sundarbans—particularly in the Munshiganj Union—a Bonbibi pat was still used to recount her story. A patua from the area reflected on the long generational history of patachitra in the Bengal delta. He explained that he had learned the craft from his father in childhood, yet in his old age he no longer finds any social interest or audience for it.
He recalled how, as a boy, he would often perform alongside his father and grandfather. He also described the wide range of pats once in circulation—Gazir Pat, Kazi-Kalu, Bonbibi, Pir-Fakir, Manasha Mangal, Sree Krishna, Muharram, Ramayana, Mahabharata, and depictions of many gods and goddesses from the Mangal Kavya tradition—all of which were regarded as sacred objects. For the patuas, any pat that had outlived its use was not stored away but respectfully immersed in a river, in keeping with longstanding customs surrounding sacred materials. Yet, despite these traditions, some historic pats survive today only because they were preserved in European archives, a reminder of the colonial practice of collecting and classifying indigenous storytelling forms.
This storytelling emerged as an intermingling of religious and mythological knowledge, mediating Hindu and Muslim audiences to the religious cosmologies flourishing in the Bengali sacred landscape, marked by shared devotional knowledge practices. It serves as a medium for transmitting knowledge to new generations. Above all, it seamlessly encompassed art, social life, knowledge, and livelihood—none of which could be mechanically produced or treated as by-products of one another; instead, they thrived as living social practices in a co-conditioned, organically interdependent system.
Md Raihan Raju is a journalist at The Daily Star and can be contacted at [email protected]
