SUMANTA DAS
Sumanta Das was born in the Hooghly district of the state of West Bengal, in eastern India.
Raised in poverty, Das believes his humble circumstances taught him to understand art-making. Familial loss and academic struggles compelled him to make sense of his surroundings through drawing. As he grew older, he found guidance and community through older artists, with whom he would often paint and draw en plein air. Das fondly looks back on these outdoor sessions, as they laid the foundation for his current practice. His first exhibition, organized by one of these artists, took place in an open field.
Despite a lack of understanding from his relatives, Sumanta Das completed his B.F.A. from The Indian College of Arts and Draftsmanship, affiliated with Rabindra Bharati University in Kolkata. After graduating, he worked several jobs — first in animation, then as a storyboard artist, and later in event design. Yet none of them held his attention for long, as he became disillusioned by the decline of handmade artistry.
From the beginning, Sumanta Das has sought to draw out the essence of his existence through the world of art. He believes art should never die in sorrow or subconscious despair. This belief has consistently pushed Das towards self-expression across various mediums.
Sumanta Das has supported himself by taking up jobs working on mural paintings and smaller commissioned works. Over time, he has reached a point of deep personal fulfillment in being alone with his art. Das rarely overthinks the image he chooses to put on paper, choosing instead to immerse himself fully in spontaneous creation. The spontaneity of his practice takes Das to an almost heightened emotional state, leaving him deeply invigorated yet strangely unsatisfied.
Sumanta Das is fervently devoted. No matter how much pain or suffering an empty heart endures, he says, quoting a Bengali expression; “no ‘little shrimp or wild yam’ will ever stand as an obstacle before my art.”
He likens his devotion to his practice to one of his original poems:
যেটুকু স্বপ্নে মায়া কাটে জলচ্ছল - দ্বিধাহীন ঘোরবেলা কিসের স্মৃতিচারণ?
আমাকে তাচ্ছিল্য করেছিল মন,বহুদূর কলঙ্কিত রেখা ছুঁয়ে ছুঁয়ে গেলে ,গুণে গেলে দিন আর ঝড় ,হাঁটুর নিচের বুদ্ধি মাথা পর্যন্ত একবারও ছুঁয়ে মনে করায়নি এ মাথার ঘাম পায়ে ফেলার কথা।কর্মের বিপাক উচ্ছিষ্ট দেহতোরণ ভাসায়নি কলরবে - শব্দ এসেছিল এপার পর্যন্ত চাপা আবেগ ,খেদ,ভয় সতীর্থ মনে করায়নি নিজের অস্তিত্ব - বুঝে নেবো বলে পার পাবার অভিপ্রায় ।।
When the illusion in dreams dissolves into trembling light — what remembrance lingers in this unhesitant haze?
My own mind had once despised me;
Touching and retracing those distant, tainted lines,
Counting the days and the storms,
The wisdom beneath my knees never once rose to my head —
Never reminded me to let my sweat fall to my feet.
The residue of deeds did not float its body-arch upon the tide of noise;
Only muffled emotions crossed over —
Regret, fear — companions that failed to remind me of my own existence.
Still, I thought I would understand —
Still, I believed I could make it across.
