Still Miss Your Favourite Childhood Toy? These Dolls of Bengal Hold that Old-School Magic

How many times did you tuck your favourite doll into bed, whispering secrets as the world around you fell asleep? Whether you were a boy or a girl, that rag-mottled friend carried your imagination across uncharted lands. Let’s step back into those simple, sunlit afternoons and rediscover how Bengal’s hand-made Putul once held our childhood hearts—and still echoes the rhythms of village life today.

Kathalia Putul

Crafted in Kanthalia village of Murshidabad, the Kathalia Putul dolls are little terracotta time machines. They date back over a thousand years, closely linked to the Gauda kingdom and the era of early pottery. These figures—quietly emotive and rustically elegant—capture rural life in snapshots: a mother nursing, a woman braiding her hair. The process is earthy: locally sourced clay is shaped, sun-dried, fired, and hand-painted in deep reds and blacks. What makes these dolls special is their authenticity—no factory moulds, no synthetic paints. Today, Sadhan Pal and his family keep this fading art alive, despite the threat from mass-produced toys. These dolls don’t shout for attention; they sit still, holding centuries in their silence.

Rani Putul

Born in Howrah’s Narendrapur and Jagatballavpur during the colonial era, Rani Putul carries royal vibes with a rustic heart. Shaped using wooden moulds and often unpainted, these legless terracotta dolls wear wide skirts and gentle grins. Inspired by Queen Victoria herself, these dolls have remained quietly regal since the late 1800s. Families like that of Dibakar Pal have passed down the craft, now seen at fairs and niche stores. Rani Putul’s elegance lies not just in her curves, but in her story—a perfect blend of village artistry and colonial memory. 

Sashti Putul

Rooted in Bengal’s village rituals, Sashti Putul isn’t just a doll—it’s devotion moulded in clay. Representing the child-protecting goddess Shashti, these dolls often show her holding infants, with sharp facial lines and folded hands. They were part of ceremonies—fed sweets, prayed to, and later immersed after childbirth. Crafted from fine clay, lacquered on one side in red or yellow, they’re less toy and more talisman. While the tradition has faded in urban homes, rural artisans continue this maternal art form, keeping faith and folklore hand in hand.

Pater Putul

In Murshidabad’s Islampur, Pater Putul dolls are the quiet narrators of village life. These simple terracotta figurines, shaped from alluvial clay and finished with soft lac on one side, mirror the motions of everyday Bengal—women at wells, gods in shrines, kids in play. Muslim potters keep the art alive, selling at fairs like the Murshidabad Heritage Festival. What they lack in gloss, they make up for in grounded beauty. Despite modern challenges, these dolls still hold a place in Bengal’s cultural heart—quiet, raw, and real.

Bankura Ghora

Bankura Ghora, the proud terracotta horse from Panchmura, is more than décor—it’s a symbol of spiritual offerings and rural craftsmanship. Once placed beneath sacred pipal trees as gifts to deities, they’ve evolved into abstract sculptures with elongated necks, upright ears, and symbolic strength. Shaped on the wheel, then hand-finished and double-fired, these red or black horses have earned GI tag status for their artistry. Though local demand has dipped, the Bankura horse still gallops strong—its hooves echoing the sounds of past prayers and present pride.

Kather Putul

From the hands of Natungram’s Sutradhar families come the Kather Putul—wooden dolls painted with bold colours and bolder stories. Using jackfruit or banyan wood, these figures range from village musicians to mythological deities. With roots in temple storytelling, these dolls are more than art—they’re tools of the kathakata, the oral tradition of Bengal. Each piece is hand-carved, smoothed, and coloured with natural pigments. Despite dwindling interest and plastic competition, fairs and online platforms are helping the Kather Putul stay carved in memory.

Jo Putul

The Jo Putul of Medinipur are as quirky as they are cultural. These beaked terracotta figures, often in black, carry the spirit of Bengal’s Patua art. Shaped by Phooljaan Chitrakar and other women artisans, they began as ritual dolls but have grown into vivid storytelling pieces. Their roots are humble—single-fired backyard kilns, handmade curves, and themes straight out of village life. Today, they’ve found new fans at Kolkata’s craft fairs, proving that even beak-nosed clay dolls can chirp tales of tradition.

Galar Putul

From the termite mounds of Medinipur emerges Galar Putul—a shiny wonder made from white ant-hill clay and coated in shellac. Crafted by Shankhari and Nuri communities, these miniature dolls glisten in reds, greens, and yellows, reflecting rural tales and deity forms. Brindaban Chanda keeps the glow alive in Paschimsai, even as materials and interest fade. Once common in village fairs and pujas, these glossy figures now gleam quietly in curated collections, holding onto their fiery, resin-coated past.

Heem Putul

Heem Putul of Bishnupur isn’t your average terracotta figure. Think Victorian-era dresses, frilly skirts, and little hats—all sculpted in soft clay. Crafted by the women of Faujdar families, these dolls carry over 200 years of artistry, evolving with Bishnupur’s temple town aesthetic. Shaped by thumb, sun-dried, fired, and hand-painted, they once played roles in rituals like Sashthi Puja. Despite urban migration, small home workshops still buzz with this unique blend of colonial charm and Bengali tradition.

Matir Putul

Welcome to Ghurni, where Matir Putul dolls wear real fabric and painted emotions. Born during the 18th-century patronage of Maharaja Krishnachandra, these dolls portray everything—from a local paanwalla to goddess Durga. Artisans shape individual body parts, assemble them, and dress them up in character. Nearly 500 families in Ghurni keep this lifelike clay craft going, fighting against the tide of plastic and migration. These aren’t just figurines—they’re clay biographies of Bengal’s everyday and epic moments. In every doll, a story. In every story, a little clay heartbeat of Bengal. These handcrafted figures don’t just decorate homes—they keep generations of tradition spinning, chiselling, and firing their way into the present.

Let’s embrace these timeless dolls—not just as art, but as whispers from Bengal’s living past.

Bongoniketan

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by BONGONIKETAN | Craft of Rural Bengal (@bongoniketan)

If you want to hold a piece of Bengal’s past in your palm, Bongoniketan offers miniature clay dolls that reflect village life in exquisite detail. Their collection brings together traditional forms like Matir Putul and Rani Putul, crafted by skilled artisans and available to ship straight from Bengal’s heart to your home.

Gaatha

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Gaatha • A Tale of Crafts (@gaatha.handicrafts)

For those who believe every object should carry a story, Gaatha curates handcrafted Putul dolls as living testaments to India’s folk heritage. Their platform connects you to authentic rural artisans, offering dolls made using age-old techniques, steeped in the textures and traditions of Bengal’s storytelling legacy.

Crafts Council of West Bengal

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Artisana - Crafts Council of West Bengal (@artisana_ccwb)

As a guardian of Bengal’s artisanal heritage, the Crafts Council of West Bengal works directly with rural makers to revive and sustain endangered crafts. Their offerings include rare forms like Jo Putul and Sashti Putul—each piece supporting a craftsperson and keeping Bengal’s folk legacy alive, one doll at a time.

The Bengal Store

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Bengal Store (@the_bengal_store)

At The Bengal Store, craft meets curation. Their Putul dolls, glowing with local colour and character, represent more than décor—they’re living fragments of Bengal’s artistic legacy. From village rituals to modern homes, these dolls continue to tell their stories through the hands that shape them.