Myth, Memory and Form – Unveiling the Sacred Stories of the Pardhaan Gonds at DakshinaChitra

Stretched like a massive accordion across a corner of the Varija Art Gallery, a 7½‑metre illustrated book titled The Pardhaan Continuum beckons visitors to pause and leaf through a visual saga that has travelled through generations of Gond storytellers. The volume isn’t just big in size; it’s big in ambition, charting the origin myths, deities and rituals that anchor the Pardhaan Gonds, a priestly sub‑group of the broader Gond tribe.

The Gonds, one of India’s oldest Dravidian‑speaking communities, are scattered across Madhya Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Maharashtra and Odisha. Within that tapestry, the Pardhaans have traditionally been the priests, hereditary bards and keepers of genealogies. Their stories, usually spoken aloud around fires, have now been set down in colour, line and pigment – a daring translation from memory to museum.

Behind the exhibition’s concept are architects‑researchers Apoorva Mishra and Achyut Siddu, the co‑founders of Loksutr, a design‑research studio in Madhya Pradesh that specialises in turning oral traditions and ancient texts into illustrated manuscripts. Their challenge was not just to capture the tales, but to respect the fact that every community member re‑tells the myths in their own way – meaning no two versions are identical.

To give the stories a visual voice, the curators teamed up with National Award‑winning Gond artists such as Kailash Pradhaan and Ajay Marko, as well as Pattachitra master Prahallad Moharana. Together, they listened to the elders, recorded the chants and then rendered those narratives onto canvas and paper. The result is a series of paintings that feel both ancient and contemporary, each brush‑stroke echoing a whispered legend.

Walking through the gallery, you’ll notice a rhythmic ebb and flow: a compact, punchy tableau of Bada Dev, the supreme creator, followed by a languid, sweeping scene of a seasonal ritual. Some works are densely packed with symbols, others breathe with open space – mirroring the way oral storytelling can be both concise and expansive.

What’s especially moving is the exhibition’s invitation to think about what is gained and what is lost when oral knowledge is fixed into a static medium. On one hand, the painted forms preserve a fragment of a fading tradition for future generations. On the other, they inevitably freeze a living, mutable narrative into a single interpretation.

‘Myth, Memory and Form’ therefore becomes more than a display; it is a conversation between the past and present, between the spoken word and the visual medium. It asks visitors to linger, to listen, and perhaps to wonder how many more untold stories linger in the winds of India’s tribal heartlands.

For anyone curious about the intersections of indigenous knowledge, contemporary art and the delicate act of cultural preservation, this exhibition offers a thoughtful, hands‑on encounter – one that feels both scholarly and deeply human.