Diverging Stories

One of the ancient sites of the chhou performances is Phasko village. I recorded a chhou pā lā on 15 April 2014 on the occasion of the Gājan festival.Footnote ¹¹ The Harishchandra pālā unfolds under the shade of a banyan and a peepal (sacred fig) tree. These trees are nearly 500 years old. Between these sacred trees there is a natural coolness. The audience gathers under the banyan tree, sitting on jute or plastic bags, eagerly awaiting the chhou performance. The Harishchandra pālā, about a legendary king, begins with jhumur songs, creating a mood that complements the performance. Although not directly connected to the storyline, these songs enhance the overall atmosphere and frame the pālā.

The narrative diverges significantly from the written version in the Mahābhārata. In the chhou performance, the narrative starts with Harishchandra and his soldiers going on a hunting expedition in a dense forest. The performance is rooted in regional oral and performance traditions like nāchni dance and jhumur dance. Harishchandra loses his kingdom and becomes a beggar, highlighting his desperate struggle to fulfil his debt to the sage Vishwāmitra. The emotional depth is amplified through the theatrics of the sutradhar (narrator), songs, vigorous dancing, makeup, and masks. For instance, when Vishwāmitra Muni enters the stage, his appearance—characterized by makeup, a mask featuring matted hair, and the lotā-kalash (a brass metal pot for holy water) in his left hand—perfectly embodies the image of a sage (fig. 7).

Figure 7.

Vishwāmitra Muni’s appearance in Rājā Harishchandra’s episode. Phasko village, Purulia 2014. (Photo by Shaktipada Kumar)

In Purulia chhou, masks are vital to the performance. They allow performers to visually and symbolically communicate the identities of their characters, providing instant recognition and connection between the performers and the audience. Without these visual cues, it would be harder for the performers to convey, and for the audience to grasp, each character’s distinct identity, making the effectiveness of the character portrayal more difficult.

In another scene, Harishchandra’s and his wife’s masks feature unkempt hair, resembling street beggars. These masks are intentionally dull in color, lacking sophistication, to match the somber circumstances of Harishchandra’s plight (fig. 8). When Harishchandra leaves his kingdom as a beggar, he wears a black dhoti with his upper body bare, while his wife is in a worn sari and his son in a yellow dhoti. The sorrow and pity of the karuna rasa is evoked through their movements, makeup, masks, and the interplay of jhumur songs, which are predominately melancholic tunes.Footnote ¹²

Figure 8.

Rājā Harishchandra with his wife and son after losing the kingdom. Phasko village, Purulia 2014. (Photo by Shaktipada Kumar)

Towards the end of this performance, Harishchandra is free of sage Vishwāmitra’s debt—a feeling of freedom reflected in the chhou performance:

The pālā is dominated by karuna rasa; the fusion of music, movements, and masks conveys the characters’ emotions vividly, transcending the textual narrative. Chhou dance’s adaptation of Rājā Harishchandra’s story emphasizes local traditions, character portrayal through masks and movements, and evokes strong emotions from the audience through voice modulation and storytelling techniques. For instance, when Harishchandra speaks, his voice carries such humility that it resembles crying, conveying a distinct tone of acknowledging a grave error and earnestly seeking forgiveness, skillfully portrayed by the sutradhar through intonation. Through its dynamic blend of body movements, music, voice modulations, and narration, chhou creates a strong connection between performers and the audience. For example, when Vishwāmitra’s character experiences anger, the tone of the sutradhar shifts dramatically, matched by precise movements of the dancer that highlight the emotional intensity of the character. This seamless integration of dialog with expressive choreography ensures that each gesture resonates with the character’s feelings, making the story more impactful and inviting the audience to become fully engaged.

Another chhou performance where the dominant rasa is not vīr rasa is a pālā of one of the greatest love stories of the Mahābhārata, that of Nol and Damayanti, chronicled in the Vana Parva (exile into the forest), the third book of the epic. In the chhou rendition, the narrative is presented with a blend of poignancy and comic relief, facilitated by the incorporation of local popular songs and supplementary characters. The storyline, while not strictly adhering to the Bengali rendition of the Mahābhārata by Kashiram Das, occasionally draws direct quotes from it.

Nol and Damayanti’s story unfolds in a 66-minute pālā that begins, like all other chhou performances, with a jhumur song featuring the dynamics of love and marriage:

The songs in chhou reflect complex aspects of Indian society, especially marriage practices prevalent in rural areas. In this first song, Damayanti laments her father’s choice for her arranged marriage, vowing to marry her choice for a husband, even without her dowry. Another song emphasizes that marriage unites not just two individuals but two families. While the Mahābhārata’s Nol-Damayanti episode and its chhou rendition do not explicitly address marriage practices, the songs subtly critique arranged marriages and dowries, still practiced the rural areas of India, even in the 21st century.

Newer chhou narratives, reflecting shifting attitudes, show daughters rejecting marriage traditions and independently choosing their own partners. Since 2010, new pālās have been introduced that address issues like dowries and child brides, aligning with the efforts of the government to discourage both practices. These new pālā s show the transformative potential of chhou.

The story of Nol and Damayanti begins with the swayambhar sabhā (the bride choosing her groom herself from among many suitors). Maharājā Vimā, king of Bidarva Nagar, calls a swayamvar sabhā for Damayanti, his adult daughter. Many gods and kings are invited to attend, including Indra,Footnote ¹³ Vaiśvānara,Footnote ¹⁴ Shaman,Footnote ¹⁵ and Varun.Footnote ¹⁶ They enter the stage dancing to a jhumur song:

Because Damayanti has already chosen Nol as her husband, the gods tell Nol there is no need for him to go to the swayamvar sabhā. They give him blessings and return to heaven. Rājā Nol returns to Damayanti and marries her. On their way back to heaven, they meet Dwā par and KaliFootnote ¹⁷ and inform them about what happened in the swayamvar sabhā. After this, the chhou rendition deviates from the written version. Nol and Damayanti become the target of Dwā par and Kali’s rage because Damayanti has married a human being instead of a god. This painful story incorporates some comic characters, clowns locally known as chedi mātāls. These extra elf-like characters, used for narrative digression, introduce local stories and connect the performance with the daily lives of the people.

In Kashiram Das’s Mahābhārata, Damayanti encounters wild animals in the jungle when Nol leaves her there. But in the chhou rendition, she faces human beings who are more ferocious and wicked than the wild animals. In the chhou version, Damayanti, exhausted by her prolonged search for her husband, tries to find respite in the jungle. A group of chedi mātāls spot the beautiful woman and want to make her their wife. Amidst their conflict over who will claim her, they attempt to convince Damayanti to join them. Their initial respectful request becomes increasingly violent. In the midst of this, Vyādha, a powerful hunter, intervenes and effortlessly defeats the chedi mātāls. He then wants to take Damayanti home. Damayanti refuses. When Vyādha insists, Damayanti curses him and he drops dead. Finally, Nol and Damayanti are reunited. In the chhou pālā, the action involving the chedi mātāls and the deceased body of Vyādha infuse humor into the story, elaborating the plot and extending the pālā in performance by 15 minutes. This final segment of the pālā is a completely new addition to the preexisting narrative.

Tradition and Change

Chhou is performed without a raised stage, on a rectangular earthen stage area prepared before each performance. The dance is traditionally performed in front of the Shiva temple from Chaitra Sankranti (the last day of the Bengali month of Chaitra, usually mid-April) to the 13th day of the Bengali month of Jaistha (usually mid-May). Ten to twelve musicians on diverse instrumentsFootnote ¹⁸ play an integral role, with drummers occasionally joining the dancers onstage. Since the early years of the 21st century, there have been extensive changes in the use of light and other modern technologies, driven by the imperative to adapt in order to remain relevant in a rapidly developing society. Changes include enacting and adapting traditional stories, and adding choreography, lighting, stage design, music, masks, and costumes. Furthermore, transportation is sometimes provided for performers and efforts are made to increase community engagement.

New pālā s adapt to contemporary demands, raising awareness and advocating for social change. Narratives like Murshid Quli Khan (first performed in 1995 by Ustad Bhuban Chandra Kumar),Footnote ¹⁹ Santal Rebellion (first performed in 1989 by Ustad Bhuban Chandra Kumar),Footnote ²⁰ Kargil War (first performed in 2000 by Ustad Bhuban Chandra Kumar),Footnote ²¹ and Coronasur Vadh (about the Covid pandemic; 2020) delve into historical events and contemporary issues. Kanyashree Prakalpa o Balyabibaha Pratirodh (2014) focuses on the Kanyashree project of the West Bengal government, which supports the well-being and empowerment of girls, including preventing child marriages. Ādibashi Kudmi Somaj (performed in 2016 by Ambarish Mahato) highlights the cultural heritage and identity of the Kudmi community of Purulia, as well as some parts of Jharkhand, Odisha, and Assam. While this particular pālā highlights the role of the Kudmi community in local social reform, the episode’s exclusive focus on this single community detracts from the broader appeal of chhou, which resonates with audiences from heterogenous communities. The episode emphasizes the contribution of the people of the Kudmi but overlooks the contribution of other communities to the chhou tradition. For example, the Dom jāti are primarily the musicians in chhou dance; the Muchi jāti make musical instruments; and the Chhuthar jāti make the masks. This collective effort has shaped the present-day chhou tradition. A chhou episode focused solely on the issues and contributions of a single community risks undermining the inclusive nature of chhou, which is traditionally performed by a diverse range of communities.

Overall, these new pālās demonstrate chhou’s dynamic nature: its ability to evolve and incorporate changes. By embracing diverse themes and narratives, chhou continues to captivate audiences while serving as a medium for artistic expression, cultural preservation, and social activism.

Lighting

The most noticeable change in chhou has been the use of lighting. Traditionally chhou was performed late at night, typically starting at 11:00 p.m., with many rituals held throughout the day prior. The earliest lighting for chhou was mashāl: rags tied on top of a scythe, dipped in oil derived from seeds (known as reditel or endri tel), and then ignited. Because there was no proper electricity in Purulia until the 1990s, every house used dibu, or lampha (small kerosene lamps), which were also used for chhou. Electric generators were used prior to the advent of power lines. This kind of electricity introduced a significant shift. Various tube lights, mercury lights, and 100W–250W bulbs provide sufficient light for the overnight performances. While generators are still employed during power cuts, chhou now embraces a diverse array of modern lighting options.

Sound

Microphones and speakers were incorporated into chhou in the late ’90s. Before the advent of electronic sound sources and amplification, the primary source of sound was the dhāmsa, a kettle drum crafted from a large wooden log that projected sound over long distances. Today there are aluminium electric horn loudspeakers as well as large speakers with more bass that have very different acoustic properties and can better amplify the sounds of traditional instruments like dhol and dhāmsa (types of drums), and shehnai (wind instrument).

Also adding to the variety of sounds (from the 1990s onwards) are synthesizers, which locals refer to as “casios,” after a popular, less expensive brand of synthesizers. Interestingly, the term “synthesizer” itself is not widely recognized or used in the area.

Using “crackers” (firecrackers) to make explosive sounds is another contemporary development. Crackers are particularly prominent in Jhalda, a municipality in Purulia that is a modernized area with a rail station and some industry.

Motorized Vehicles

During my interviews with several veteran chhou and jhumur performers, including Bhuban Chandra Kumar and Kishore Kumar Gupta, and local researcher Kiriti Mahato, transportation was highlighted as another crucial factor that has undergone significant change. Before automobiles, performers walked to the performance venue. David Reck describes how the artists used to arrive for a dance performance:

Masks were hung on a ladder or similar wooden structure. Two performers shouldered the ends of the ladder. Musical instruments were slung from the performers’ necks, and the costumes were toted in sacks. The whole thing created a unique procession on foot.

The advent of the bicycle in 1960s–’70s marked a significant development in Purulia chhou. Performers, all men during this period, ingeniously adapted to this new mode of transportation. Each artist wore a mask positioned at the back of his head. The costumes were packed inside jute sacks, suspended on either side of the handlebars of bicycles. Two performers shared a single bicycle, with one cycling and the other seated at the back. Occasionally, the copassenger would assist with pedaling, especially on uneven terrain or when a faster pace was required. En route, they’d sing jhumur songs, and their rhythmic cadence created a lively procession. Groups of 10 to 15 bicycles, each with two performers, embarked on their journey to the venue of the performance. Nowadays, all-terrain vehicles are used (fig. 9).

Figure 9.

Chhou performers arriving in a vehicle. Kudagara village, Purulia, 2018. (Photo by Shaktipada Kumar)

Costumes

Costumes in each of the three forms of chhou differ from one another. There is a huge change in the chhou costumes used before and after the 1990s. An insightful glimpse into the earlier Purulia chhou costumes can be found in Ritwik Ghatak’s films, Puruliar Chhau (1970) and Jukti Takko Aar Gappo (1974); in the latter, part of the movie is devoted to Purulia chhou (fig. 10). Most of the performers wore knee-length dhotis over shorts in the film, with their upper bodies bare; only the main characters covered their upper bodies. The dancers secured the dhotis around their waists with a piece of cloth locally known as komorbandhni, or waist-wrapper. Some characters wore ankle bells. They covered the soles of their feet with ankle socks and these continue to be part of the chhou attire. Performers used colorful cloth strips, masks, and wooden limbs to create an array of human, animal, and supernatural characters: tigers, lions, cows, buffalos, horses, monkeys, peacocks, elephants, and more. Such characterizations demanded intricate makeup and synchronized movements. For instance, the portrayal of a single buffalo required the coordination of two dancers.

Figure 10.

Chhou performers in 1974. Still from Jukti Takko Aar Goppo, documentary by Ritwik Ghatak; https://youtu.be/vSmuHca03JE?feature=shared. (Screenshot by Shaktipada Kumar)

Asutosh Bhattacharyya, in his Chhau Dance of Purulia, writes about the costumes of chhou performers, which is to date the only book-length scholarly study of chhou:

According to Bhattacharyya, the main characters (both divine and demonic) wore embroidered jackets:

Bhattacharyya then compares chhou with Barong and Kris dance traditions of Bali, which are also mask dance traditions. He writes that “in order to give more realistic and graceful appearance to the gods and goddesses the dark-skinned aboriginals and semi-aboriginals adopted masks later on” (96). Contrary to what Bhattacharyya writes, the use of masks has never been an attempt to conceal a performer’s skin tone or to conform to any racial beauty standards. His opinion reflects a lack of appreciation for the deep cultural and symbolic significance of chhou masks and perhaps his own regional biases.

Today’s costumes are different from those Bhattacharyya saw (fig. 11). Now the costumes cover most parts of the body and resemble those worn by performers of jatra, a traditional theatre form of West Bengal. The use of ankle bells and bells on other body parts are not as vibrant as they used to be. In fact, such bells in Purulia chhou are almost gone. Performers commonly hold colorful handkerchiefs in both hands, a practice reminiscent of traditions like nachni dance and jhumur or dainr dance. Performers often embellish themselves with multiple colorful ribbons wrapped around their hands, along with elaborate chest covers adorned with small plastic beads and large colored mica sequins. Though there are no hard and fast rules, demonic characters usually wear black dhotis while the characters representing gods wear dhotis of different colors, but never black. Incarnations of demons wear tight leggings and a skintight full-sleeve T-shirt.

Figure 11.

Lord Krishna captivates the audience in his contemporary attire, accompanied by a large speaker in the background. Bamnia village, Purulia, 2013. (Photo by Shaktipada Kumar)

Movements

Earlier there were only a few movements in chhou dance, including ulfa, digbaji, and jhaap, described by D. Venkat Rao:

Many new movements have been introduced into chhou but because most of these are not defined there are no specific names for such movements. One new movement known as bhulukeāgliyā is a front somersault over the backs of bent performers and between the legs of other performers standing on the bent ones (fig. 12). Ārliyā ulfā is one of the recent movements added to chhou dance. This precise movement is very difficult for most chhou artists. It is a combination of both front and back somersault. This ārliyā ulfā starts the way a back somersault starts and ends in the manner of a frontal somersault; so, in the middle of this movement, in a fraction of a second, the dancers twist their bodies. This is also known as mochoida ulfa, which means a twisted somersault.

Figure 12.

Bhuluke āgliyā (front somersault of a new kind). Bamnia village, Purulia, 2013. (Photo by Shaktipada Kumar)

Film and Theatre

The interplay between Bollywood cinema and chhou dance is evident, with each influencing the other. Nonetheless, integrating local art and culture into mainstream cinema is increasingly common. Numerous films feature chhou dance, ranging from documentaries solely focused on the artform to Bollywood productions that incorporate it in part: Jukti Takko Aar Gappo (1977), a documentary, and Puruliar Chhau (1970), both by Ritwik Ghatak; Mrigayaa (1976) by Mrinal Sen; Barfi! (2012) by Anurag Basu; Gunday (2014) by Ali Abbas Zafar; ABCD: Any Body Can Dance (2013) and Lal Pahare’r Katha (2007), both by Remo D’Souza; and Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013) by Sanjay Leela Bhansali. Through these films, chhou’s traditional roots are adapted for cinematic appeal, reflecting the fluid nature of chhou but often reducing its cultural depth to a martial stereotype, overlooking its nuanced storytelling traditions and ritualistic significance in Purulia.

Jukti Takko Aar Gappo (Reason, Debate, and Story) is Ritwik Ghatak’s final film, released in 1974. While not exclusively about Purulia chhou dance, it features a significant portrayal of the form. Ghatak’s film explores the Purulia region and the artists whose identity is inseparable from performance. The essence of their existence lies in the embodiment of their art, as emphasized by the maskmaker in the film. Cultural forms like chhou survive not in static display but through active performance. Ghatak criticizes the archival impulse, advocating for the continuation of tradition through practice. By filming live performances he unveils the cultural context of Purulia chhou. Ghatak’s perspective isn’t nostalgic about traditional forms; he affirms the ongoing practices of practitioners maintaining their heritage.

In contemporary films that incorporate chhou, the focus is often on the dynamic and energetic body movements of the performers, commonly seen in trailers—for instance movies like Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela, Gunday, Barfi!, and others. Vikrant Kishore rightly pointed out the use of Purulia chhou in the highly commercial Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela:

Women in Chhou

Traditionally, and for many years, Purulia chhou was practiced, preserved, and disseminated by men. Even today, far fewer women participate in chhou than men. The reasons for this disparity are deeply rooted in sociopolitical, cultural, and economic problems. There is a long oral debate and sometimes through social and print media over who was the first female chhou dancer. Mousumi Chowdhury maintains she is the first female chhou dancer in her community and has inspired other girls and young women to follow in her footsteps since 2010.Footnote ²² The US Consulate General in Kolkata affirms that the young performer is the first female chhou performer of Purulia:

Women progressively participated as performers in the three forms of chhou. In Mayurbhanj, women began dancing chhou in the 1960s, soon followed by Seraikella chhou. In Purulia, this transition began in 1985 when Ustad (the honorific for a renowned dance teacher) Chandra Mohan Mahato from Tumbajhalda village of Arsha locality brought women dancers into his troupe. The female performers were exclusively engaged as dancers, showcasing their talent and skills solely through dance. The male performers, however, were also engaged to set up the stage, arrange the musical instruments, and handle other technical aspects like stage lighting and sound management.

The late Ustad Anil Patra from Tamajuri village incorporated women into his troupe from 1995. Towards the end of the 1990s, in Jiling village, Chandra Mohan Mahato’s troupe showcased performances by female artists. Under the guidance of Purulia’s district magistrate Dev Prasad Jana, renowned Ustad Durgacharan Mahato (known as DC Mahato) and his son Malay Mahato produced an extraordinary performance that featured characters like Lord Krishna and Radha, the latter performed by a woman. In the late 1990s, a three-day competition held at Sadhu Ashram featured female artists, marking a pivotal moment in the evolution of chhou. Since 2010/2011, several chhou troupes have emerged with all-female performers.

Chhou as a Commercial Genre

In the 21st century, chhou has evolved beyond its traditional contexts and timeframe of the Gājan festival to become a sought-after commercial performance throughout the year. Chhou troupes are in high demand during various festivals such as Durgā Puja, Kali Puja, Ganesh Chaturthi, and Jagadhatri Puja, from August to November. In addition to its widespread commercialization during festivals and cultural events, chhou is also featured prominently in various entertainment media, including reality TV shows, soap operas, and web series. In the recent Bollywood films listed above, as well as in such Bengali films as Karna Subarner Guptodhon, chhou dance is used to portray an “authentic” Indian village and enhance the rustic charm of the storyline for the urban audience. The colorful masks and energetic movements are presented as emblematic of rural West Bengal’s cultural wealth. However, there is little context provided regarding the cultural significance of the dance or the performers. Chhou troupes are also hired by various organizations for performances worldwide. In February 2024, the Indian Council for Cultural Relations extended an invitation to a chhou dance troupe of Purulia to participate in the 11th Aswan International Festival in Aswan, Egypt. In 2018, chhou dance was performed at the National Palace Museum in Taipei City, Taiwan, as part of collaborative efforts to enhance cultural exchanges between Taiwan and South Asian nations, facilitated by the National Palace Museum and the India-Taipei Association. A chhou dance troupe from West Bengal also participated in a three-day chhou dance festival held in Singapore in April 2023. This collaborative effort was spearheaded by the Micro, Small, and Medium Enterprises department of the West Bengal government and UNESCO as part of the Rural Craft and Cultural Hub project. Every chhou troupe of Purulia typically has one or two managers who are residents of the same village as the troupe. They often serve as the primary contacts for bookings. Additionally, in some cases, certain dancers within the troupe take on managerial responsibilities.

Chhou performances typically involve around 30 to 35 members, combining live music, drama, and intricate choreography. However, when performed outside Purulia, budget constraints often necessitate a significant reduction in team size, impacting the complexity of the performance. Additionally, the stages provided for such performances are often ill-suited for chhou, being smaller and less accommodating for its acrobatic and martial elements. Moreover, linguistic differences pose challenges, as the narration of chhou pālā s is typically done in the Bengali dialect of Purulia, which differs from the standard Bangla and may not be well received in certain regions. This linguistic barrier often leads to requests (sometimes made during the booking of chhou performances outside Purulia) for chhou troupes to perform solely with the music, omitting the essential narration and dialog. This can create tension within chhou troupes; diluting the art form by eliminating the traditional storytelling means that the sutradhar and the singers will not be hired for these jobs. If such shortcuts persist, they may contribute to the decline of traditional chhou.

Transportation presents another hurdle, especially for Purulia chhou with its large masks and props. Transporting these items can lead to damage, adding to the financial strain on performers. Additionally, the limited performance time allocated outside Purulia often necessitates truncating pālās. Audiences outside Purulia rarely complain when chhou pālās are shortened, as they primarily attend to witness the visual splendor of the performance—the masks, dynamic choreography, and energetic movements. Since they are generally less familiar with the full narrative structure, they are often unaware that the pālās have been truncated. Event organizers outside Purulia frequently set constraints on the number of performers and the duration of performances, as well as on budgets, which necessitate these adjustments. Consequently, the focus shifts to showcasing chhou’s visual appeal rather than the complete narrative.

I used to manage a chhou troupe in my village Phasko in Purulia. In 2015, my chhou troupe was invited for the National Dance Festival in Shimoga, Karnataka. The organizers requested a performance with a maximum of five members, but it was impossible to perform with such a small team. After negotiation, a team of 11 members was formed. However, selecting these 11 from a group of 35 posed considerable challenges. The payment for the performance was only Rs. 30,000 (US$357), with no travel allowance provided. The round-trip journey from the village of the performers to Shimoga cost approximately Rs. 22–25,000 ($217–297). After eight days of travel and performances, which included three days of train travel from Purulia to Karnataka and another three days to return, plus a two-day stay at the venue, they were left with only around Rs. 5,000 ($60). This amounted to approximately Rs. 500 ($6) per person for the 11 members, including the orchestra, dancers, and management. They returned home with the equivalent of what they would make in a local show. Typically, when chhou is performed in nearby villages, each performer earns about Rs. 500–1000 ($6–12) for each performance, without having to spend a week traveling or leave their daily agricultural chores. With the limited resources, dancers usually take on double or triple roles in a single episode, adding to the already hectic schedule.

Moreover, outsiders often link chhou solely with the traditional Mahiṣāsura Vadh pālā, limiting their understanding of the art form. Outsiders are unaware of the diverse range of chhou pālā s, including those based on historical events, government projects, and literary works. Initiatives such as government support and broadcasting could help showcase this lesser known side of chhou to a broader audience and provide economic assistance to artists. The Purulia chhou persists independently without substantial support from either the state or central government. In 2013, Purulia’s chhou dance won the first prize for the state’s republic day tableau. The West Bengal government introduced a monthly artists’ allowance known as shilpi bhā tā of Rs. 1,000 ($12) to those artists who are recognized as artists by the Government of West Bengal; however, the selection process is flawed, as only 8 to 10 members out of a typical 30-member chhou troupe are selected for this allowance by the government. Banglanatak.com, a social enterprise working across India with a mission to foster inclusive and sustainable development using culture-based approaches, has innovatively created an international-level platform for local artists through the annual chhou utsav, a festival of chhou performance usually held in December since 2010. This event allows troupes to perform in their entirety, showcasing their talents to diverse audiences with substantial media coverage. Although local performances are crucial for maintaining authenticity, only a few chhou troupes from Purulia are selected to participate due to the large number of competing groups. Each participating troupe is allocated approximately 45 minutes for their performance, differing from traditional longer performances of about 60 to 90 minutes held during April–June.

Scholarship

Despite the richness of its traditions and the variety of its contemporary enactments, there is little scholarship on Purulia chhou. Most writers—including Asutosh Bhattacharyya, Indrani Dutta Satpathy, Kapila Vatsyayan—inadequately address the rituals such as bhogtā loton, dondo dewā, and bhogtā ghurā (as described above) associated with chhou. These rituals have been described in detail in the first 14 minutes of my documentary, Chhou Dance of Purulia (Kumar Reference Kumar2022:00:00 to 14:00).

One of the earliest articles on Purulia chhou in any language is playwright John Arden’s “The Chhau Dancers of Purulia” in TDR (1971). Arden effectively describes what he, an outsider, saw—the movements, music, masks. Arden also addresses the role that Asutosh Bhattacharyya played in reviving the chhou dance tradition, describing Bhattacharyya’s “discovery” and “supervision” and noting its coloniality. Arden concludes: “The precise recording and archiving of the dance by foreign academics I hold to be dangerous nonsense” (74).

Aside from Bhattacharyya, scholars do not go beyond characterizing Purulia chhou as a vigorous martial dance originating in the tribal communities of the Chhota Nagpur plateau. Generally they note that chhou performances revolve around the vīr rasa, with the narratives consistently portraying heroic episodes. This oversimplification ignores the diverse layers of meaning and cultural significance embedded within chhou dance.

Bhattacharyya lists 68 pālās, all drawn from the Ramayana, the Mahābhārata, and the Purānas. However, as an outsider, he excludes chhou’s other pālās that explore local life, literature, and sociopolitical themes. He also had his own biases, but still he was one of the earliest researchers who made chhou popular in India and other parts of the world. His descriptions are excellent with regard to what chhou was at the time he wrote his book, but his analysis is neocolonial at best. In brief, Bhattacharyya’s book, already more than 50 years old, is out of date.

In Between Theater and Anthropology (1985), Richard Schechner offered a crucial critique of Bhattacharyya:

Schechner notes, as did Arden, how Bhattacharyya controlled and influenced Chhau:

Bhattacharyya toured various countries with chhou artists but his treatment of the artists was less than favorable, especially financially. Upon their return from these international tours, Bhattacharyya did not maintain regular contact with the performers. Anil Sutradhar, a member and manager of the foreign chhou troupe led by the renowned chhou artist Gambhir Singh Mura offered details:

Despite being underpaid, chhou performers continue their devotion to the form. Many young enthusiasts of Purulia are raising awareness through social media, helping to keep their heritage alive and accessible to a global audience. Purulia alone is home to over 500 chhou troupes, each contributing to the vibrancy of the art form. While chhou pālā s embrace contemporary trends, the chhou tradition remains deeply rooted in its heritage. This is evident through the persistent practice of traditional rituals, music, and dance movements. Embracing the contemporary while preserving the traditional highlights the resilience and enduring significance of the chhou performative tradition.