As I wheeled my luggage toward the departure terminal of Kolkata’s Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose International Airport, mentally preparing for yet another flight to Ranchi, I found myself unexpectedly rooted to the spot—not by delay or turbulence, but by wonder.

What held me in place was not a mechanical marvel or a VIP entourage, but a display—humble, vibrant, powerful. My attention was drawn to something truly captivating: an enchanting display of traditional Bengali masks, or mukhosh, showcased by the Biswa Bangla Marketing Corporation. This initiative by the Department of Micro, Small, and Medium Enterprises (MSME) and Textiles, Government of West Bengal, was more than an aesthetic exhibit. It was a celebration of Bengal’s enduring folk traditions—an artistic journey interwoven with history, culture, and spirituality.

The vivid colours, expressive faces, and striking forms of these masks stood proudly in the bustling terminal, a quiet reminder of the rich cultural tapestry that we often overlook in our day-to-day modern lives. That fleeting moment at the airport became the seed for this reflective narrative on Bengal’s unique mask-making tradition.

Mukhosh: The Faces of Bengal’s Soul

The tradition of mukhosh in Bengal is more than just decorative craft. It is an ancient and profound expression of the collective imagination of communities across the Bengal delta. These masks transcend their material form to become storytellers—depicting gods, demons, animals, and mythical creatures. Each mask is a living emblem of Bengal’s beliefs, rituals, and oral history.

Crafted with immense skill and devotion, mukhosh are used in religious rituals, folk theatre, harvest celebrations, martial dances, and processions. Whether worn during a frenzied Chhau performance or mounted on a wall as a keepsake, each mask carries the soul of its origin and the voice of its maker.

The Artistry & Diversity of Mukhosh

The artistry of Bengali masks is as diverse as the landscape of Bengal itself. Different materials and techniques are used, including bamboo, wood, clay, paper, metal, and sponge wood (shola). Rooted in various districts, the mask-making tradition showcases an eclectic array of forms, materials, and purposes:

Chhau Masks (Purulia): Perhaps the most iconic, these masks are bold, colorful, and dramatic. Used in the martial Chhau dance—rooted in tales from the Ramayana and Mahabharata—they transform dancers into gods, demons, and warriors. I once had the privilege of visiting a Purulia village where generations of artisans have been crafting these masks. Watching them breathe life into clay and paint was witnessing time itself at work.

Wooden Masks (North Bengal): Carved from a single block, these masks are used in Gomira, Shiknidhal, and Bagpa dances. They often depict Shiva, Parvati, lions, or fantastical creatures. The performances are typically held to ward off evil or invoke blessings, embodying a syncretic blend of tribal faiths and Hindu deities.

Shola Masks: Made from sponge wood (Indian cork), these are light, fragile, and ethereal. Traditionally used in Raibenshe and Gomira dances, they are especially revered for their intricate detailing and almost ghostly appearance—white masks dancing in moonlight.

Clay Masks: These expressive masks are central to Chhau as well. They’re larger and more exaggerated, capturing both emotion and energy. Often painted with vivid colours, they embody divine rage, compassion, or mischief.

Bamboo and Folk Masks: Seen in Baul and Bhatiyali performances, these rustic masks—decorated with feathers, beads, and shells—evoke Bengal’s pastoral spirit. They are typically handmade in riverine villages, echoing the rhythms of boats, fields, and wandering minstrels.

Metal Masks (Dhokra): Forged from brass or copper using ancient casting techniques, these are more sculptural and are often used as souvenirs. They still echo the storytelling tradition of Bengal, albeit now often mounted on urban walls.

A Living Craft with Ancient Roots

While the exact origin of mask-making in Bengal remains mysterious, its presence is deeply embedded in prehistoric migrations and the evolution of civilizations along the Bengal delta. Cultural historians trace Bengal’s mask traditions to a larger South and Southeast Asian continuum—stretching from Indonesia to Kerala—forming a rich, interconnected zone of mask use across rituals and storytelling.

The early settlers of Bengal, distinct from Aryan cultures in both language and beliefs, brought with them animist and shamanistic traditions. These found expression in the masks, which often symbolized the interface between human and divine, earthly and spiritual. As a result, Bengal’s masks carry visual echoes of an older, non-Aryan cultural substratum.

My Visit to Purulia: Where Masks Come to Life

During a previous journey, I had the opportunity to visit a village in Purulia, where Chhau masks have been made for generations. The village breathed art. Families worked in open courtyards—some shaping clay with their hands, others painting bright lines and dot patterns on nearly finished masks. Children watched, learned, and occasionally lent a hand.

The connection between the artisan and the mask was palpable. Here, craft was not merely about livelihood but about legacy, about carrying forward the soul of a community embedded in these expressive faces.

Folklore, Rituals, & the Power of Disguise

Masks in Bengal, like in many ancient cultures, carried mystical significance. They were not merely costumes; they were transformations. Some legends speak of witches who used masks to deceive and bewitch. One enduring legend speaks of witches who wore masks to lure victims into sacrificial rituals, promising immortality. An 18th-century Bengali novel vividly portrays this:

“In the deep of a jungle in Bengal, tucked miles away from the reach of human civilization, a coven of witches, in giant painted masks, dance in frenzy around a big fire; some have swords in their hands, others have axes. In a corner bound and gagged is a pretty young lady—the offering to Satan.”

Whether these are myths or metaphors, they reinforce the symbolic power of masks—as conduits of fear, divinity, anonymity, and transformation.

Dance, Devotion, & the Dramatic Stage

Beyond legends, masks became spiritual conduits. In the Banbibi pala of the Sundarbans, masks help embody the goddess Banbibi and her nemesis, Dakshin Rai—the tiger demon. These are more than mere plays; they are rituals that bind communities together, blending mythology with moral instruction.

In the Gamira and Gambhira dances of Dinajpur and Malda, performers wear masks to enact moral tales, where masks play the role of deities, ancestors, and spirits, blending satire and devotion.

Even the Bagpa dance, associated with tantric Buddhism and introduced by Guru Padmasambhava, showcases the mystical use of masks. Known as the Lama Dance in Himalayan Buddhist culture, it traces its conceptual roots to Bengal’s own spiritual traditions.

The Rabankata dance in Bishnupur is a masked drama reenacting the slaying of Ravana. The Chhau dance of Purulia is a powerful martial art-inspired dance where large, colorful masks represent gods and demons, dramatizing tales from the epics.

According to a Biswa Bangla pamphlet, there are various theories regarding their origin. One suggests that mask-wearing began during the great migration in the Bengal delta during prehistoric times. Another theory posits that masks symbolised the negation of geopolitical boundaries.

Global Recognition and the Modern Revival

In 2015, UNESCO acknowledged the cultural importance of Bengali mask-making, enabling Rural Craft Hub artisans to exhibit their work in Paris. This recognition positioned Bengal’s mukhosh on a global pedestal—not just as handicrafts but as living heritage.

Government bodies like the Biswa Bangla Marketing Corporation have been instrumental in reviving interest through exhibitions, marketing platforms, and airport installations like the one I saw. Educational programs and cultural tourism initiatives are helping keep this tradition alive for younger generations.

Mukhosh Today: Between Art & Identity

While commercialisation and modern trends pose challenges, they also offer new opportunities. Masks are now finding space in urban decor, academic research, and even fashion. Yet, their essence remains rooted in community, storytelling, and cultural identity.

Each mask is a conversation—between the past and the present, between mythology and materiality, between the artisan and the observer.

Closing Reflections: A Masked Legacy

As I finally boarded my flight that day, I couldn’t shake off the images of those masks—their expressive eyes, their exaggerated features, their vibrant palettes. They lingered in my thoughts, whispering stories from centuries past.

The display at the Kolkata airport wasn’t just an aesthetic diversion. It was a gentle nudge to reconnect with the deep, layered heritage of my homeland—a reminder that Bengal’s artistic soul continues to thrive in the hands of its humble artisans.

If you ever find yourself in Purulia, do visit the villages, especially Charida, where these masks are made. You’ll leave with more than a souvenir—you’ll carry home a piece of living history.

So next time you pass through Kolkata Airport, look around. You may find not just your gate, but your heritage staring back at you—in vivid red, green, gold—and telling a story as old as Bengal itself. And somewhere in a quiet village in Purulia, a pair of hands still molds clay into myth. The story continues.