In one corner of the Bankim Bhavan Gaveshana Kendra Museum — some 45 km from Kolkata — a bronze bust, a handwritten music book, a shawl and a turban compete for space in a pastel-blue room lined with family photographs.
This red-and-beige, single-storeyed building with shikhara domes and arched doorways in Kantalpara, Naihati, is Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s ‘Baithakkhana’ — the three-room parlour where the 19th-century novelist, poet, essayist and journalist wrote Vande Mataram, which marks its 150th anniversary this year.
But as political parties wage a credit war, pitting the poet against Rabindranath Tagore, the Baithakkhana fights another battle — that against government neglect and public apathy. Signs of this appear everywhere: the walls marked by seepage, the poor lighting, and the absence of air conditioning.
The staff cite lack of finances and manpower. The museum depends on the state government for upkeep, and officials say it needs urgent repairs but funds are scarce.
“It’s true that the rooms where Chattopadhyay’s personal items are kept — including original pictures of his family — need upkeep,” Ratan Kumar Nandi, director of the Bankim Bhavan Gaveshana Kendra, which manages the museum, says. “Renovations to remove the damp walls here will begin shortly.” He adds: “There are only seven people working here. Those who have retired have not been replaced.”
His family echoes the concern — and adds that few people visit. “Since the museum and the research centre depend solely on state funds, they have not been able to extend it,” Swati Ganguly, Bankim Chandra’s great granddaughter who lives in Delhi, says. “However, what is sad is that it finds very few visitors. Only a handful of people – mainly researchers — visit the place. I also request the state government to do something about the condition of the Kolkata House.”
Bratya Basu, the state education minister under whose department the museum falls, did not respond to calls.
The song Vande Mataram was first published in the Chaitra issue of the monthly magazine Bangadarshan Patrika — a publication that Bankim Chandra and his brother Sanjib Chandra edited at different times. It appeared as part of the first volume of Bankim Chandra’s novel Anandmath, first serialised in the Bengali year 1287 (Gregorian year 1881). Anandmath was published as a book in 1882, and Vande Mataram was eventually set to tune by classical vocalist Jadunath Bhattacharya. Over the years, it took on several renditions — including one by Tagore at the Indian National Congress’s 1896 session in Calcutta.
In Kantalpara, the ‘Baithakkhana’ and the adjacent family home of the Chattopadhyays form part of the Bankim Bhavan, which houses a museum, a research centre and a library.
The main room of the Baithakkhana displays his iconic shawl and pargi (turban) in a mounted glass case, along with a single black pedestal fan. Other items include a lantern, wooden chess pieces the brothers once played with, and family photographs.
The room contains a table and a chair that the poet-novelist used during his writing sessions.
Next to the Baithakkhana — separated by a narrow path — stands a two-storeyed white colonial-style building. Once the family home, it has served as a research centre and library for 35 years, though part of it — including the ‘Vande Mataram Gallery’ on the ground floor — has been sectioned off as an extension of the museum.
Museum director Nandi recounts how his renovation proposals remain pending. “Some years ago, I submitted a proposal to the state government for renovation and a light and sound show. The entire project was to cost Rs 2 crore. However, we were told to scale it down,” Nandi says.
The proposal was finally revised to Rs 56 lakh. “Even that is yet to be cleared by the state government. How will we preserve Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s legacy here?” he says, adding that construction on a building beside the museum has also been stalled.
Some 45 km away, at 5, Pratap Chatterjee Lane in Kolkata, stands a desolate building, its pale blue exterior blackening and cracking. The sign outside reads ‘Sahitya Samrat Bankim Smriti Granthagar’, and just inside the locked gate sits a bust of Bankim Chandra.
This is where the poet breathed his last on April 8, 1894. Converted into a library in 2006, it now lies derelict, with signs of squatting on the portico.
“No one comes here,” a local says. “Only on his birthday [on June 26, 1838] do some political parties come to pay homage. But we haven’t seen the library open recently. Some people sleep near the main entrance at night.”
Debate over provenance
With the museum and the house now crumbling, his descendants seek state government intervention for funds and research. According to Swati Ganguly, there is confusion over when Vande Mataram was written.
“While the central government celebrates it on November 7, 1875, there’s indication that it was written during the Durga Puja of 1874. I feel there should be research into when it was actually written.”
Experts such as Partha Pratim Chattopadhyay also believe that the song predates publication. He cites accounts by Bankim’s younger brother Purna Chandra and Lalit Chandra Mitra, son of playwright Dinabandhu Mitra, about a time when Bankim was editing Bangadarshan Patrika.
“Ram Chandra Bandyopadhyay said he was short of nearly one page worth of material… That’s when his eyes fell on the poem Vande Mataram. Seeing that, Ram Chandra asked if he could publish it.” But Bankim refused: “He put the paper back in a drawer and said, ‘You cannot understand whether it is good or bad now… it’s possible that I will not be alive then’.”
According to the researcher, Vande Mataram grew out of the emotional core in Bankim’s essay Amar Durgotsav, later part of his collection Kamalakanter Daptar.
“Amar Durgotsav was first published on October 12, 1874. On October 19 — the night of Mahashtami — Bankim Chandra became emotional after a rendition of the song ‘Eso Eso Bandhu Eso’.”
He later wrote about it in Ekti Geet. Around this time, patriotism took hold of him. Says Partha Pratim: “In that piece, he also wrote ‘Where did my Deshalakshmi go’. Is it such a stretch that a great mantra such as Vande Mataram came to his mind?”
He adds: “As for the last piece in the Agrahayan 1281 issue, instead of using the 28-line song Vande Mataram, Bankim gave Ram Chandra a criticism of Ishan’s work. According to the information so far, this was probably on the night of Mahashtami – October 19, 1874.”