In Quest of Bono-bibi: A myth reimagined
In ‘In Quest of Bono-bibi’, artist Saidul Haque Juise transforms Kalakendra into an immersive space where myth, memory, and environmental crisis collide through evocative mixed media works

It is always refreshing when a familiar art gallery gets a makeover after years of looking the same. Even better is when the new look perfectly complements an ongoing exhibition — and that is exactly the case with Kalakendra hosting Saidul Haque Juise's 'In Quest of Bono-bibi'.
The dark-toned walls are a welcome thematic shift, echoing the mythical tone of the exhibition. It creates an atmosphere that feels almost haunting, yet fitting. That is why, when visiting Juise's first solo art exhibition in over twenty years, you do not just walk past the artworks — his paintings, collages, and installations pull you in, inviting you to fully immerse yourself in the narrative and essence of the two weeks long exhibition.
Before going into the broader themes and the artist's vision behind his exhibition, it is important to understand who Bono-bibi is — especially for those unfamiliar with her legend.
Bono-bibi is a revered forest deity, seen as the guardian spirit of the Sundarbans, the vast mangrove forest that is home to the Royal Bengal Tiger. She is worshipped by both Hindu and Muslim communities, particularly by honey gatherers and woodcutters, who seek her protection before venturing into the forest. According to folklore, her main adversary is the demon king Dakkhin Rai, who is believed to take the form of a tiger to attack humans.
For Juise, the inspiration behind this concept stemmed from his deep appreciation for Bangla folk traditions and a strong sense of pride in Bangali heritage.
"I have admired our folk culture and heritage for as long as I can remember. As a Bangladeshi and a Bangali, it is something I hold very close to my heart," Juise shared.
"I have allowed myself to be fully immersed in it, to let it shape me. And since Bono-bibi is such an intrinsic part of that cultural fabric, I thought—why not interpret her in my own way? Maybe this is my way of giving something back."
What makes Juise's reimagining of Bono-bibi truly stand out is the way he interprets the mythical figure through a modern lens, connecting her legend to present-day issues both in Bangladesh and globally.
His work blends together political commentary, emotional depth, and a strong environmental message—especially highlighting the impact of industrialisation and tourism on the Sundarbans, and how these forces continue to threaten mother nature.
To bring his vision to life, Juise didn't just rely on the traditional verses associated with Bono-bibi—he also infused the work with his own reflections, expressed through original verses. These personal additions played a key role in shaping the artworks on display.
"The traditional verses are there, drawn from ancient scriptures," Juise explained. "But I have also included my own words—my verses and a few borrowed from other poets. It is as if Bono-bibi herself is speaking, or crying out, through them."
In his exhibition, Juise uses a collage technique that blends printed texts and images with fluid ink sketches to reflect the oral traditions surrounding Bono-bibi. These fragments echo the stories passed down through generations, while the spontaneous, intricate ink lines mimic the tangled roots of the Sundarbans' mangrove forests—Bono-bibi's mythological home.
Several paintings feature upside-down faces, evoking ritualistic and divine symbolism. These inverted, often faint faces reflect the duality of Bono-bibi's nature—fragile like a human, yet powerful as a protector.
Branch-like forms dominate many of the compositions, symbolising the deep-rooted connection between the forest and the guardian spirit. The use of earthy colours and textured elements further strengthens the bond between Bono-bibi, nature, and the forest-dwelling communities.
Juise's leaning toward abstraction encourages viewers to engage with the mythology in a personal way, echoing the fluid, evolving nature of the legend as it is retold and reimagined through time.
In addition to 57 drawings depicting the various disasters affecting the Sundarbans, the mixed media exhibition also features wire sculptures and a prominent large-scale paper sculpture.
This striking piece shows figures carrying a massive bone, resembling the act of bearing a corpse. The imagery serves as a powerful metaphor, highlighting how the Sundarbans is gradually dying due to human interference and the ongoing impacts of climate change.
"It was during the Covid-19 pandemic when I actually started with all these, the paintings as well my wire works," concluded Juise.
The exhibition, which opened on 4 April, is set to conclude the day after tomorrow. A special Q&A and meet-the-artist session will take place tomorrow at Kalakendra, offering interested visitors an opportunity to engage directly with the artist and take part in an in-depth discussion about the exhibition.
TBS Picks

Medium: Wires
This installation feels like a chaotic yet poetic dance of tangled lines, almost as if metal vines are growing wild in a dark void. The intricate knots and loops suggest both fragility and strength, with the metallic ropes capturing a sense of movement frozen in time. The blend of light and shadow adds depth, making the piece feel alive, like it is reaching out or pulling inward.

Medium: Mixed media on paper
This painting is like an explosion of emotions wrapped in a surreal dreamscape. The bold, swirling colours—vivid purples, fiery oranges, and soft blues—create a sense of movement and chaos, yet it is oddly soothing. The hands emerging from the canvas add a striking touch, blurring the line between two-dimensional art and sculpture. They feel desperate and alive, reaching out of the abstract, as if grasping for connection or freedom.

Medium: Mixed media on paper
This piece feels raw, intimate, and almost like a fragment of a dream caught on paper. The layered use of ink and collage creates a striking contrast between the soft, organic textures and the sharp, chaotic red lines. The figure seems suspended, almost floating or unravelling, with an air of vulnerability that's impossible to ignore.