The idol’s accessories and the embellishments on the sari are their work Picture by Sudeshna Banerjee

A sword, a revolver, a crude bomb or a dagger piercing a heart are hardly subjects that one associates with the décor of a puja pandal. But in the middle of a Kidderpore park, these objects of murder and mayhem occupy half of a large canvas.

In the other half are two hands — one paints and the other writes. If the viewer peers closely, the words can be made out — Amay ektu jayga dao tomader mone (Give me some space in your mind).

This is the plea going out from the men who have created almost every bit of decoration that adorns the pandal of Kidderpore Sarbojanin Durgotsab, near Fancy Market. The canvas, as well as the pandal itself, showcases their transition from a life of crime to one dedicated to art.

“Someone in our locality is in touch with artist Ashish Das who has been giving art lessons to the inmates of correctional homes. We approached him with an offer to use artwork created by them for our pandal,” said joint secretary Abhijeet Das. Ashish stepped in with a team of 10 of his students from Presidency Correctional Home in Alipore.

They have even created the accessories of the goddess — the crowns to the saaj (decoration) on the chest.

“I have been making idols for 25 years. Never have I seen such beautiful and unusual saaj,” said Keshto Das, the idol-maker at the puja.

Digital prints of the madhubani illustrations done by the inmates have been used on the saaj in which a three-dimensional element has been added with mini owls stuck at the centre. “They are in the style of wooden dolls of Nabadwip. Touch them. They are made of paper,” smiles Ashis, the artist, who had first stepped into a correctional home in 2008 when he got an order to make a sari for the then jailer in Hooghly’s district jail. The original madhubani paintings hang in the outer section of the pandal.

Ashis has been teaching the inmates who created the artwork for the pandal since 2016. “They dabbled in art for the first time in my class. Only Shah Alam and Aakash Ali Khan, who did the zari work on Durga’s sari, had prior experience.” Both are lifers. All Das did was hand them a plain red sari. “They did the fabric paint and stitched the zari roses.”

Many of the canvases bear the signature of Babli. “It’s the nickname of Tarak Kotal, sentenced in the Girish Park bomb blast case. He was so passionate about working for the pandal that he would take back work to his ward and carry on till past midnight. But most others do not want to give their names.”

Ashis is particularly proud of his student Tapan, who prefers not to reveal his surname. “He does amazing madhubani painting. I taught them this style as it is a dying art that few have the time for.” Time, behind prison walls, is hardly a constraint.

They cannot come to watch how their expressions of creativity have decked up the pandal as they did not get parole. “But they have accepted it. I will give them an album each full of photographs of the pandal,” says Ashis, who took care never even to ask if their relatives would visit the pandal. “Any such reference can make them feel depressed.”

Dancer Alokananda Roy who has been working with prison inmates since 2007 welcomed the move. “It is the best platform to show people what they can achieve and can work as culture therapy,” she said.

A canvas with faces of the inmates of correctional homes who have wielded the brush for Kidderpore Sarbojanin puja Picture by Sudeshna Banerjee