/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/B4K3kj95Zx4PS2MP4YJu.jpg)
Image: Annada Munshi family with Satyajit Ray, Image Courtesy: Tiyasa Das
When we talk about Bengal’s cultural legends, names like Rabindranath Tagore, Jamini Roy, and Satyajit Ray usually top the list, but behind the masterpieces we so admire today, there are forgotten pioneers who shaped the artistic vocabulary of an entire generation. One such forgotten name is Annada Munshi, a name that might not immediately ring a bell but deserves to echo through every corridor of Indian art and advertising history. Not only was he a brilliant artist and calligrapher, but he also mentored a young Satyajit Ray when both were working in the same advertising agency. Long before Ray became the celebrated filmmaker, he was learning how to blend Indian tradition with modern design — something he picked up from Annada Munshi, the quiet mastermind of commercial art in India. But that’s not all. Munshi was also the man who challenged British dominance in advertising and turned it into a Swadeshi voice for a newly awakened India. His artworks were admired by legends like Pandit Ravi Shankar and even caught the attention of Pablo Picasso. And yet, most of us have never heard his name.
The Man Behind the Magic Brush of Commercial Art in Bengal
/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/3axIi7Xp34A1TcdxRGFZ.jpg)
Annada Munshi was born on 27 November 1905, in Shivnagar, Pabna — now in Bangladesh — was the son of the renowned artist Anukul Charan Munshi, a pioneer of Mother-of-Pearl artistry in pre-partition Bengal. In his family, art wasn’t just a hobby – it was heritage. This wasn’t just art for show — it was a legacy. His father used to teach this rare craft to locals, and both Annada and his brother Manmohan Munshi learnt it as teenagers. They were not just used to carve portraits and sell them at Horihar Chotrer Mela (local melas). By 1924, the Munshi family showcased their intricate artwork at the British Empire Exhibition in Wembley, London—an international event that drew over 27 lakh visitors.
After his early education in Chowgachha and Pabna, Annada Munshi enrolled in Calcutta’s Government Art School under the famed Percy Brown. But before finishing his degree, his journey began into the visual world of commercial art. In the 1930s, he moved to Bombay (now Mumbai) and joined the Times of India’s advertising department. There, he didn’t just design — he disrupted. His bold campaigns like "Tea is 100% Swadeshi" (1947) and "Tea Fights Fatigue" (1948) weren't just ads — they were patriotic declarations wrapped in eye-catching visuals. They loudly declared that Indian goods could be stylish, modern, and proudly Swadeshi — a direct blow to British-dominated advertising narratives.
/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/BNOwY6avqt3D6W27uyFF.jpg)
According to Amitava Munshi, his nephew and third-generation artist of the Munshi legacy, “Jethu (father's elder brother/ uncle) was someone who lived for art and never in the materialistic world. Art and culture were his everything. He was grounded, quiet, and mostly lost in his own imaginative space.” Even in Bombay, he remained connected to Bengal’s cultural roots — singing Rabindra Sangeet on Aakashvani’s Bombay Centre and participating in Swadeshi events like Prabhat Pheri.
One more delightful tale shared by Amitava reveals that Annada Munshi was khamkheyali (moody) artistic. Amitava shared a story he had heard from his mother, "Ahi Bhushan Malik of Ananda Bazar Patrika had asked him for a Sarodia magazine cover. On the day of the deadline, Jethu had nothing ready. When Malik called in a panic, Jethu asked him to come in the evening to collect the work and stepped outside, noticed saw a young girl playing kit-kit (the game of hopscotch) in a saree, asked her mother to decorate her feet with alta (red dye), and clicked her image walking on a white saree with the caption “Maa Aschen”—an-iconic portrayal of Durga’s arrival" — a piece that still gives goosebumps to many Bengalis.
/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/WOtOuTsvwAwLX8VTG4eZ.jpg)
Amitava shares when Annada Munshi returned to Calcutta as a senior visualiser for DJ Keymer, a global advertising agency. It was here that he began mentoring a young and curious Satyajit Ray, and many other creative minds like Raghunath Goswami, Makhan Dutta Gupta, and O. C. Ganguly. And how they become family. But it wasn’t all serious work. His house in Talapark was a cultural adda spot, where names like Sunil Gangopadhyay, Raghunath Goswami, and Satyajit Ray would often drop by. “Jethu had a great sense of humour,” Amitava smiles. “Once, during an adda, a few of his artist friends came over in the afternoon and felt something was missing — you know what that usually means,” he laughs. “It was too early for liquor shops to open, so Jethu painted water to look like whisky in glasses using watercolours and served it. That was his way — always laughing, always creating.”
/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/nmvl03ynA3FHiSYS3sLI.jpg)
His contributions weren’t limited to advertising. Munshi invented a unique water-based painting technique using rubber solution — his works were marked by simplicity, abstraction, and brightness. Some of these paintings made their way to the collections of global legends like Pandit Ravi Shankar and Yehudi Menuhin. Even Pablo Picasso reportedly admired his work — no small feat for an Indian artist in the mid-20th century. Munshi’s love for peace was reflected in nearly every brushstroke. He once created a book titled Crucified India, dedicated to his student Satyajit Ray, expressing his despair and hope for a more peaceful world.
Apart from painting, Annada Munshi was a skilled musician, fluent in Behala (violin), piano, harmonium, and both Indian and Western classical traditions. He frequently performed Rabindra Sangeet at Akashvani Bombay Centre and often played mesmerising pieces on the behala (violin). Despite his many talents, he was always humble and rooted in his Bengali identity.
/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/oJoarqmUSfmAItfChyxt.jpg)
And yet, he remains largely unsung. Unlike his contemporaries, Annada never chased fame. He spent his final years in Talapark, Kolkata, passing away on 14th January 1985, leaving behind a legacy buried under the sands of time. His younger brother, Manmohan Munshi — lovingly known as Manu Munshi, a name affectionately given by West Bengal’s then Chief Minister and Bharat Ratna Dr. Bidhan Chandra Roy — continued the family legacy in mother-of-pearl artistry. "My father basically was the assistant of Jethu", Amitava said with a mischievous smile. Manu Munshi's delicate mother-of-pearl portraits of personalities like Indira Gandhi and Nur Jahan became celebrated examples of this intricate, almost-lost art. But his creativity didn’t stop there. He was a master of wire craft, turning stone and wood into finely sculpted portraitures and In 1986 even selected for the Padma Shri. However, when asked to go through police verification, he refused, saying, “I’m an artist, not a criminal.”
A Legacy That Belongs to All of Us
/local-samosal/media/media_files/2025/04/29/dDD5X0qXLj7xGekyP4G8.jpg)
Annada Munshi’s legacy is a reminder that some of the most influential artists remain hidden behind the spotlight they helped create. From mentoring legends like Satyajit Ray to redefining Indian commercial art, his story deserves to be told, remembered, and celebrated. Let his name be spoken in the same breath as the icons he helped shape. Let his legacy rise — not as a shadow, but as a source of light.