Shambhu Acharya’s scroll through time
The ancient art of patachitra finds new life in Shambhu Acharya’s solo exhibition — offering a rare, vivid glimpse into a fading tradition kept alive by one of its last living masters

We have had the chance to wander through countless exhibitions across almost every art gallery in Dhaka. But every time we stepped into a group show — especially the ones without a specific theme — we could not help but notice how rare it was to find patachitra (scroll painting) on display.
And on the off chance that it was there, it would usually be tucked away in some quiet corner, far from the show-stopping centrepieces. Maybe that says something in itself: this is not just an ancient art form, it is also one that is not widely practiced anymore. And perhaps that is exactly why we have not really had the chance to appreciate it in all its layered beauty.
Shambhu Acharya's ongoing solo exhibition at Galleri Kaya is an exception in that regard, for it is an entire exhibition of pata paintings. Before stepping into the gallery in Uttara, we honestly had no real clue what to expect. But what unfolded was a stunning celebration of indigenous craft and artistic mastery — from an artist who may well be the last of his kind.
His family has been keeping this tradition alive for over 450 years, passing it down through generations like a sacred legacy, and it shows in every brushstroke.

For the uninitiated, Pata painting, or patachitra, is a traditional art form rooted in religious and social themes. The word pata comes from the Sanskrit patta, meaning cloth — and that is exactly what it is — art created on fabric like silk or cotton, illustrating stories and motifs from faith and everyday life.
It is an ancient practice, and though modernity has dulled its shine, it still survives in rural corners, kept alive by self-taught artists and cherished within folk communities.
Acharya's artworks are steeped in folklore, mythology, and the rhythms of rural life, and the pieces on display paint a vivid picture of that world. You will find women fetching water, brushing their hair, or simply spending time with family — everyday scenes that somehow glow with quiet dignity and warmth.
There is a sense of simplicity here, but it's deeply intentional, celebrating the intimacy of community and the closeness to nature that defines rural existence. Look closer, and you will spot traditional motifs: ox-carts rolling past village huts, people in classic attire, and even the fantastical — like a majestic cow with wings and peacock feathers, a creature straight out of myth that hints at divine protection and spiritual richness.
What really stands out in pata paintings is the use of motifs and colours — that is where the soul of the art form truly reveals itself. Almost every piece on display, aside from a few sketches, proudly notes "indigenous pigment on canvas" as its medium.
Goutam Chakraborty, artist and founder of Galleri Kaya, points out that this is exactly what makes pata paintings so distinct. "Back in the day, artists would extract colours by hand from natural sources and use those as their paints," he explained.
"It's not like now, where acrylics and other ready-made materials are the norm." This old-school, handcrafted approach is what gives the art its unique character.
Growing up, Shambhu Acharya often spent long hours by his father's side, watching and helping as he painted pratimas — sacred images of deities. That early immersion shaped him deeply, and it is no surprise that divine figures and mythological themes are ever-present in his work.
In this exhibition, those influences shine through clearly. Many of the paintings feature female subjects, gracefully placed against the backdrop of everyday rural life — capturing not just spiritual reverence, but also the quiet strength and beauty of ordinary moments.

The women in these paintings are not just subjects — they are central figures, portrayed with such care that you can almost sense the artist's admiration for their strength and grace. Artistically, the style is unmistakable — bold, flat colours — reds, blues, yellows — pull you in, while ornate borders of flowers, patterns, and symbols give each work its own signature frame.
There's no illusion of depth here; everything is laid out plainly, yet every detail — jewellery, clothing, even expressions — is meticulously drawn. Birds, animals, and natural elements flutter throughout, suggesting a quiet harmony between the earthly and the divine.
When talking about art forms like pata painting, it's impossible to ignore the looming question — are we watching it edge toward extinction in our own country? The signs are there. It's not something widely practiced, taught, or studied anymore.
In most cases, the art survives because families like Shambhu Acharya's have passed it down through generations, clinging to tradition as the modern world moves on. It is perhaps for that reason that, during his solo exhibition at London's Spitz Gallery back in 1999, Shambhu was introduced as the "last pata painter of Bangladesh."
Goutam Chakraborty acknowledges this concern but remains hopeful.
"Look at Australian Aboriginal art — it's lasted over 10,000 years. With patachitra, I believe what we really need is patronage. If that happens, this art form doesn't just have a chance to survive — it could thrive in the years to come," he concluded.