There are literally hundreds of books on the enchanting city of Kolkata—its history, its music, its streets, its people, its festivals and so on. But it is difficult to find a comprehensive volume on all the important places of worship, even with a lot of effort. Mala Mukherjee and Jael Silliman have filled this gap by bringing in vivid colours all the interesting places of worship of different communities that lend Kolkata its unique vibrancy and zest for life. There are, of course, a few books dedicated to only the Hindu temples of Kolkata, like Tarapada Santra’s delightful book on the temples of Kolkata and some of these books focus on just the many Kali temples or even on just the famous one of Kalighat. We have, similarly, books on only the Siva temples or even only one, like the Bhukailash Siva mandir. But these are mainly in Bengali and do not contain attractive photographs. We also have a lot of older and quite better works on the churches of Kolkata as Europeans who erected these imposing buildings kept better records, in true western professional standards, with several decent photographs. There is the added attraction of examining the distinctive features that each of the different Christian denominations represented and these are so apparent in their styles and designs. We have, for instance, the very Anglican St Paul’s Cathedral that looks so typically English; the quaint Roman Catholic Church on Park Street, the typical Scottish Kirk of St. Andrew’s on Old Court House Street and the Armenian Church of St. Nazareth on Armenian Street and other expressions of parochial pride. But there is so little to distinguish many of these architectural masterpieces from their counterparts ‘back home’ and there is very little ‘Indian’ character in them. This was because—nostalgia and orthodoxy of tradition were the motivating factors for the different religious or ethnic groups getting together to erecting them and, I guess we need to view them in this spirit.
The Christians are now a rather small community and it may be more pertinent to take a look at the Muslim places of worship as they constitute twenty percent of the city’s population. The choice of Nakhoda Masjid is, therefore, very relevant because of its sheer grandeur, though there is competition from Jama Masjid in Mallick Bazar, Rajabazar Barri Masjid and Tipu Sultan’s Masjid. Here again, we come across some literature on mosques in Indian languages and a just a few in English, but then there is a need felt for a more pleasing coffee table work with excellent visuals. Talking of visuals, I must compliment Jael Silliman and Mala Mukherjee for taking so much trouble to capture so many wonderful photographs of each of the sites of worship of different religious groups in Kolkata. Having tried my hand in some elementary photographic work that I needed to illustrate my articles on Kolkata’s colourful communities, I know personally how arduous is the task of taking permission from each authority. Besides, there are different operational choices and restrictions like selecting the many different angles to shoot from as some are in really congested localities. Light, shade, lack of manoeuvrable space or even getting the right vantage points and many such considerations stand as veritable challenges to any photographer. I have admired Ms Mukherjee’s photographic works in the past for the adroit use of angles and the unique viewpoint that her photographs narrate. To show, one must see, and see something that others miss—that is the essence of outstanding visualising and it does not matter whether artist uses paints or cameras.
Every city, town or village reflects its own unique cultural kaleidoscope and preferences through its festivals, customs, architecture and, of course, through its places of worship. The fact that Calcutta or Kolkata has always cherished its plurality and diversity is reflected through the fascinating variety of its temples, mosques, churches, gurudwaras, pagodas and synagogues. There is hardly any religion or denomination that has not built its own ‘church’ where its faithful congregate to pray and, what is more important, to hold its culture, customs and history together. After all, an edifice of worship is not just a building or brick, mortar and stone—it is much more than that. It is definitely a sacred space, but it is also the very firm cultural bond that holds the ethnic group or the sect together, especially when the community is in a foreign land or, if they are Indians, they are a long distance from home. For it is this distance that lends enchantment and strengthens a person’s love for what their culture or subculture, for which they yearn everyday. The place of worship is thus embellished with as many cultural artefacts, from the very style of its construction to the decor inside, as may serve as reminders of what is most cherished. In fact, there are so many examples of how expatriates have pooled in their life’s earnings to procure a few religious genuine objects from their homeland, whether it be the Baghdadi Jews of Kolkata who are presently less than twenty five in number or the Chinese who transplanted the entire roof of a temple from mother China to their own temple in old Chinatown of central Kolkata. It is therefore really commendable that Mala Mukerjee and Jael Silliman have come up with this project that seeks to reflect this multireligious ethos of the city. More so, when divergences and diversity are increasingly being threatened by homogenisation, uniformity and the forces of globalisation.
To appreciate this spirit a little more one has necessarily to dip a bit into the history of how Kolkata evolved. Despite tall claims made by some zamindar families about how they were the earliest inhabitants of Kolkata, the fact remains that the city owes much of its existence and glory to Job Charnock. As a mature nation, one should not shy away from the fact that it was the British who chose to settle on the ‘wrong side of the river’, who nurtured this urban settlement for their own narrow commercial reasons. It was no accident that all the European powers had settled on the west side of the river Bhagirathi or Ganga, from the sixteenth century onward and the British who came in practically last in this colonial competition were no exception. The Portuguese had dug in their heels at Bandel and Hooghly, the Dutch secured their base in Chinsurah, further south and the French had established Chandannagar, a little more to the south. Further downstream we have the Danish settlement at Serampore that played an important role in the history of education and printing in India— courtesy William Carey. The English had set up a small trading base at ‘Hughly’ near the Portuguese, that they called a ‘factory’. Incidentally, the term was not yet synonymous with a place for production. This ‘west bank’ settlement lasted less than forty years, primarily because they were unable to manage the Mughal governors, who were rapacious to say the least. And this is where the story becomes more interesting. The frequent troubles that the British had with the Mughal bureaucrats and local authorities, especially after Mir Jumla became the Subedar of Bengal, meant bitterness which led to clashes. It was then that the British started seriously exploring the possibility of settling on the other side or the left bank of the river.
Unlike the west bank, the east bank was less developed at least in the regions that are in the present ‘Greater Kolkata’ or were then in the vicinity of the original British settlement in Kolkata: whichever way we view it. While the European towns on the West Bank faced relatively better known old religious centres like Halisahar, Shyamnagar and Bhatpara, on the east bank or the ‘Kolkata side’ of the river, as we move southwards along the river towards Kolkata, it got worse. There were, of course, some inhabited patches on the river like the villages of Sutanati and Govindapur, and even the third village of the original three that formed the core of the later metropolis, namely, Kolkata, was not far away from the river. But the land that lay beyond these pockets was forested and consequentially quite lawless. It was crisscrossed by many small rivers like the Adi Ganga and rivulets where wild animals like tigers, crocodiles and jackals ruled. This was because the land sloped away from the river, unlike other places where the gradient was tilted towards the river for water to drain into it. In this case, water drained eastwards towards the great salt lakes and in the direction of the traditional ancient rivers like Bidyadhari and Nowai-Sonai, with channels like Bagjola connecting them. In the end, this network flowed into the Sunderbans which extended its reach almost up to Kolkata in the late seventeenth century.
The point is that except for small patches on the river and a few select spots in the interior, the territory that surrounded Kolkata was generally inhospitable and difficult to traverse. There was an ancient road or pathway that led from the north, through Kolkata, down south to Kalighat where the temple of Kali stood for several centuries, but except the brave or the deeply religious, few would venture to use this ‘old pilgrim’s trail’. In fact, from Kavi Mukundaram Chakrabarty’s Srikankan Chandi, we get an idea of the relative importance of the different pre- colonial settlements on both sides of the river in the late sixteenth century. It is clear that though Kalighat was the only spot in the entire region occupied by Kolkata in later times that deserved to be cited but it was only a passing mention. This may mean that the rest of the area was just inaccessible. In spite of this, the Mughals had sublet whatever patch they knew could yield even some revenue and the family of Savarna Chaudhury happened to be the rent-collector for this less hospitable region, inhabited more by animals than humans. This detour was essentially to understand that it was impractical to expect the Kolkata area of the pre-Charnock era to be hosting any notable places of worship except the old Kali temple at Kalighat. An odd temple or shrine did exist and a few Muslim mosques or dargahs surely existed wherever humans had cleared the jungle and lived, but had there been any ancient spot of great consequence for either Hindus or Muslims, it would have been a cause célèbre when the township grew into the second city of the British Empire.
The British preferred this area as they knew that, unlike their settlement in Hughi on the west side, they were not vulnerable from all sides. The narrow roads that came into Kolkata from the north were hardly any threat as any potential enemy would have to negotiate a tough road and could be spotted at a distance. The path to the south never posed any danger as no Indian or European power was entrenched on that side. Besides, on the east, that includes the northeast, the southeast and so on, the jungle, the animals, the swamps and the rivers were sure to discourage or prevent a possible foe from attempting any adventure. The west was ruled by the vast river, but the British ships with the best of canons affixed on their sides had a clear view if any European nation or Indian adventurer dared to challenge the fledgling settlement. They would be blown off midway. This explains why the British chose the malarial side of the river to dig in. Besides, their bigger sea-faring ships could navigate better as the draft was more conducive on the Kolkata side. Most important was that they had known and trusted Indian trading castes—the Seths, Basaks and Seals who used Sutanati’s market and resided nearby.
Getting back to our main topic, we surmise that Kalighat was the oldest religious site of any consequence but we must refer to two ancient shrines that stood on the two main streets that intersect at the very heart of Kolkata, namely Dharamtala and Chowringhee. The first went in an east-west direction, past an important shrine that was dedicated to the folk god of western Bengal called Dharmaraj, hence it was named Dharmatala. The other was from north to south and was on the road that reached Kalighat, but it was more famous for a Nath cult guru called Chowringhee Baba. These religious sites have almost vanished though Dharmaraj’s idols are still housed on SN Banerjee Road, not too far from its original location, but people hardly visit it any more. There is another edifice, the Holy Armenian Church of Nazareth—that is also very old and its first building was certainly the oldest Christian structure in these parts. A tombstone located within the grounds of the church declares that it ‘is the tomb of Rezabeebeh, wife of the late charitable Sookeas, who departed from this world to life eternal on the 21st day of Nakha (11th July1630 A.D.)’. Mezrovb Seth, a prominent Armenian historian of old Kolkata, claimed that the Armenians were already established in Calcutta when Job Charnock arrived here in 1690, because this church was previously the old Armenian Burial Ground.
On 31st January, 1895, the noted English chronicler, C.R. Wilson, wrote an article in the Englishman, a popular Calcutta daily, supporting Seth’s theory that the Armenians had settled in Calcutta before Job Charnock and the Company and Professor Suniti Kumar Chatterjee also supported him as it was doubtless that the Armenians had settled on the west bank of the river and in 1645, they had built a commercial settlement in the Dutch Colony at Chinsurah. They had also frequented the region where Kolkata would come up and in 1688, the East India Company had signed an agreement with the leader of the Armenians, Khoja Phanoos Kalanthar, in 1688, just two years before Charnock came to Calcutta, which assured that whenever forty or more Armenians resided in any English settlement, they ‘would be allotted a parcel of ground to erect a Church thereon for worship and service of God in their own way.’ It also promised that ‘the Governor and Company will also allow fifty pounds per annum…for the maintenance of such priest or minister as they shall choose to officiate therein.’ In fact, in 1690, the year of Job Charnock’s settlement, a small chapel of timber had actually been erected in Kolkata, which means that St. John’s Church set up by the English was the second Christian Church here.
This is only an appetiser to readers who will enjoy Ms Mukherjee’s excellent photographs that are done so beautifully and give the book a special character. Ms Silliman has given notes on each site and they have been rather educative, even for me. I have walked around the lanes and by-lanes of this metropolis, hunting for snippets of its history and I know how difficult it is to obtain any authentic information of many a place. In India, history and legend mix so easily that it is difficult to separate them from each other. One notices, for instance, that most of the larger religious architecture that the book covers were built in the late 19th century. This means that long steel joists have been used to hold up the ceilings for the large assemblies or halls and history tells us that these were imported from Great Britain in good numbers only when ships could pass through the Suez Canal. This was opened in 1869 when Queen Victoria was the Empress of India. If we can just rise above the oppressive politics of imperialism and the economic disaster it meant for India, we would also see that a part of the splendour that Britain enjoyed was also bestowed on Kolkata. It is a city that has cherished diversity and has never stood in the way of plurality of language, religion and ethnicity. This wonderful diversity is so obvious from the efflorescence of so many religions and their abodes of worship.