Why Bengali Women Wear Shankha-Pola? The Tradition Rooted in a 2,000-Year-Old Craft of Bengal

Have you ever noticed a Bengali married woman’s wrist? You’ll often spot a pair of crisp white bangles paired with red ones. These bangles, called shankha-pola, are not just ornaments, nor are they worn merely as symbols of marital status. So, what are they? Where do they come from? Most importantly, who makes them? 

The answer takes us to the Shankhari community — master artisans originally from Dhaka, now in Bangladesh, where the community once thrived. They were known for their expertise in carving intricate designs into conch shells, crafting sacred bangles (shakha) and spiritual artefacts (shonkho) steeped in mythology and ritual. After the Partition, many of these artisans migrated to Kolkata — especially to areas like Barrackpore, Baghbazar, and Hatibagan — setting up humble workshops in the narrow lanes of North Kolkata. 

Echoes in Shell

When we stepped into the Baghbazar’s Sankhakari para, the sound of chisels against conch shells greeted us like a centuries-old rhythm still echoing in modern Kolkata. These lanes towards Baghbazar ghat are lined with Shankha Shilpa stores, where stories of faith, family, and fine craftsmanship are carved into every bangle.

It was here that we met Kalishankar Nandi, the current pioneer of Nandi Shankha Silpalaya, a family-run workshop that carries generations of tradition. “Dhakai shakha,” he tells us with a smile, “means the product and the artisan both came from Dhaka, the ghati of all real Shankharis. Before Partition, our entire community lived there — we were lucky to be spared the worst of the migration chaos because our craft was so valued.”

Crafted from Turbinella pyrum, a type of sacred sea snail shell found off the coasts of Tamil Nadu, Kerala, and Sri Lanka, these bangles are more than accessories. Their calming energy, said to reduce body heat and ward off evil, has kept them spiritually relevant over the ages.

The making of these pieces is no longer done by hand. Earlier, each step was manually handcrafted with precision — now, modern machinery has simplified the process, making it more affordable. As Nandi explains, “Apart from shakha, we make home decor and small jewellery pieces for children too — it’s believed that wearing a conch shell keeps the body calm and cool.”

The prices of bangles vary from Rs. 150 for shell-dust moulded pieces to around Rs. 700 for original, carved shakhas, depending on width and design. One telling detail Kalishankar shared is a trick to detect fake shakhas: “Real shakhas are carved from large conch shells, so the inner shape is more organic, not perfectly round. The dust-made ones, mixed with plastic, are smoothly round, too shiny, too perfect to be real.”

When asked if the shakha business is facing a downfall in this modern era, he replied, “There is a percentage of people who are not honouring the tradition due to modernisation. But nowadays, the shakha culture is also being embraced by people outside the Bengali community, which is keeping the craft alive.” He added, “The artisans who truly love this art are still not willing to change their profession. But in future, how many artisans will remain — that completely depends on how the current ones pass on the art and values to their children.”

However, another Shankhari from the 95-year-old Adi Maa Monosha Sanko Shilpayan — established in 1930 by Ramendra Chandra Dhar — offered a different perspective. Fourth-generation owner Prosenjit Dhar shared, in a voice tinged with fear, “Due to increasing literacy, children of shakha artisans are not willing to do factory work or craft conch shells. They want to pursue something different. There are exceptions, but the number is small — and it’s only going to get smaller.”

This shell art form dates back to the early centuries of the second millennium CE, making it one of the oldest Indian art and crafts. Their work often echoes stories from mythology and epics, such as the blowing of the Panchajanya conch by Lord Krishna at the onset of the Kurukshetra war. Which led to the ceremonial blowing of the conch during pujas, ancient texts also describe it as one of the 14 ratnas churned from the cosmic ocean. And, historically, this tradition dates back thousands of years, with archaeological finds from sites like Bet Dwarka and Lothal indicating a flourishing shell industry during the Harappan civilisation. 

A 70-year-old local, Phoolmoni Dutta, shared her story. When she arrived in Kolkata from her village with her husband and son in search of better opportunities, she was only 20. Over the years, she observed many families from the Shankhari community leave Baghbazar. “The old era was different,” she said, her eyes sparkling with memory. “Shankharis once dominated this area — now, the numbers are few. Maybe in the Barrackpore area, there are still many Shankharis, but not here.”

“Amara toh phoron-er kaaj kori”: Voices from the Workshops

Inside one such workshop, we met Nobogopal Nath, a generational artisan with over 40 years of experience, bent over his carving covered with conch shell dust, “When I started, everything was done by hand," he shares. "We used to sit with our simple tools and spend days shaping a single piece. Now, machines help, but they also bring risks. And not every shell can be used to craft products. It’s the artisan’s eye that decides which shell will be used for shank and which one for shakha.”

He went on to explain how every piece goes through nine stages — from raw shell to final polish — with most artisans specialising in just one or two steps. Raw conch shells are sourced from coastal regions like Tamil Nadu and brought to Kolkata via Mahajans (traders) in Barrackpore and Hatibagan’s Kolutola, near Nakoda Masjid.

Another artisan, Ajit Patra, 58, who started working with shells at just 13, offers a stark reflection: "I learnt by watching others—no training. But if I die, no one in my family will take this up. My son has no interest, and to be honest, I don't want him to." His voice carries a mix of love and resignation. “Amra toh phoroner kaaj kori,” he laughs dryly—“We earn barely Rs. 200 a day, with no work-no pay conditions, many artisans face financial uncertainty despite dedicating their lives to the craft."

They do the work of carving and breaking, but the reward is meagre. However, the legends like Haripada Kundu and Subodh Dutta have carved masterpieces admired across the nation. “We created a shilpa gharana here,” says a young artisan trained by Dutta. “But today, we struggle to keep that heritage alive.”

The decline in raw material availability, lack of government support, and waning interest among the youth have further dimmed the once-flourishing industry. Yet, some artisans are adapting, crafting not just bangles but also rings, pendants, incense holders, and even showpieces from alternative materials like coconut and bamboo shells. Still, the question remains: Who will carry this legacy forward if we don’t allow our cultural roots to evolve and embrace modernity?