(From top) The plaque showing the name of the builder of the temple; two of the three temples with the banyan tree growing on top; the arched entrance of one. Pictures by Pabitra Das

The plaques commemorating the foundation of temples often had unwritten stories to tell. Apart from mentioning the date of their establishment and the names of the people who built them, often the names of the men who actually constructed them — the masons or mistris, that is — were written on them. Some of the plaques were made of terracotta. One such located at Deulpota in Khardah finds passing mention in Tarapada Santra’s book on Calcutta’s temples and mosques.

I had first heard about it from Tapas Mukherjee, who specialises in documenting the history of this small town about an hour and a half away from Calcutta, and is currently producing a book on the history of the railway stations north of Sealdah.

He said the temple was located in Kulinpara and one should take the road past Balaram hospital. The straight (almost) and narrow road with turns at the most likely places left behind Balaram Mandir and school and Laxmi Narayan temple, and finally reached the banks of the Hooghly.

Children played football on a field with the river serving as its backdrop. A mansion that belonged to the family of Khelat Ghosh of Pathuriaghat in north Calcutta once stood here. Hence the name of the road — Ramanath Ghosh Garden Road. The mansion went to rack and ruin during the Naxalite movement when it was impossible to access this area. This neighbourhood goes by the name of detenu camp garden, and unlike the rest of the town, it is still very green here. This is within Sukhchar mouja of Khardah municipal area.

Mukherjee had said a group of three Shiva terracotta temples stood here, but apart from a pond by the roadside and clumps of trees, including a coconut, no temple was visible.

Passersby seemed to be unaware of their existence. Some young men, who were whiling away their time, pointed them out, and one had to strain one’s eyes to discover them under the palm fronds and screen of thick foliage. Tin roof houses built around the peripheries of the trio blocked the view even further.

The aerial roots of the banyan tree that shaded the temples had grown into them, and now the terracotta structures have become a part of the living organism. The thick roots of the tree hold the spires of these aatchala temples — the trio constructed as a single unit with hardly any space between them — in their deadly embrace.

The walls at the rear are visible from the road and are unembellished. The face of each temple is heavily ornamented with delicate terracotta blossoms and intricate designs, but most of it in an irreversible state of decay. The people who have lived here in the surrounding hutments since the Bangladesh liberation war claimed that over the years, many such ornaments have been stolen.

The Shiva lingas were also absent. The space in front of the temples was carpeted with leaves. The arched entrances still look elegant, and the geometric patterns tracing the arches were intact. Mukherjee said if one looks carefully one can discover terracotta images of dragons and peacocks swallowing serpents, and men wrestling lions.

Although I had read about the temple plaque in Tarapada Santra’s book and Tapas Mukherjee too had told me about it, on the first day I had missed it as the sun was about to set. Next time I was luckier as the rays of the sun fell on the plaque itself picking out each letter of the Bengali script. It needs an expert to decipher the writing, but with Mukherjee’s help the words: “Sri Ramakrishna. 1138 sana. Nirmankarta” could be made out.

Tapas Mukherjee had already done some research on the temple and he presented some startling facts. Constructed in 1731 AD, the trio is older than the famous Shyam temple of Khardah. Its image was first seen in Jean Renoir’s 1951 colour film, The River, based on Rumer Godden’s novel of that name.

Satyajit Ray had assisted in making the film, whose cinematographer was Subrata Mitra.

Mukherjee said that people believe the temples were built by Prakash Chatterjee, but actually, Ramakrishna Seth was its builder. His grandson, Kedar Seth, was a student of Fort William College. They belonged to the famous family of Seths of Sukhchar who were rice merchants.

It is a pity that the Archaeological Survey of India has done nothing to save it from destruction.

soumitra.das@abp.in