I had a chance to visit a small village outside of Bundi, Rajasthan on October 5, which happened to be Sharad Purnima, the day of the Ashvin full moon. I learned that this is a date of great spiritual significance, particularly among farmers and villagers, as it marks the end of the monsoon season and an auspicious harvest time. The occasion is observed by fasting and devotion to the goddess Lakshmi; at night in some places, a bowl of kheer (milk with rice and dried fruit) is placed outside with a cloth cover so that it can absorb the moon’s healing light rays. The milk is later consumed while looking at the moon. We arrived at the village shortly after moonrise; we walked through basmati rice fields under the full moon, were served chai, introduced to a baby buffalo just born the day before, shown beautiful shrines and fruit trees.

Early October is the wrong time to look for Mandana drawings in the villages outside of Bundi. This is because Diwali celebrations occur on October 19 this year, and the days and weeks leading up to Diwali are when villagers spend time cleaning, repairing, and beautifying their traditional homes. Traditionally villagers construct their abodes and outbuildings from natural materials – a mixture of mud, straw, and cow dung, with woven straw or clay tile roofing. The structures are quite resilient and strong but must be rebuilt each year. Walls and roofs are rebuilt or repaired; floors are resurfaced with mud and dung.

Once structures have been repaired and finished, village women traditionally complete the final stages by beautifying their homes by creating Mandana. With a mixture of rice flour or chalk and water, a paste is created and used to paint elaborate patterns on the outer walls, floors, and thresholds. These patterns are said to purify, ward off evil, and invite gods and goddesses into the domestic space. In Rajasthan the drawings are called Mandana; other regions use different terms for the practice, such as Aripan or Alpana (Mithila region), Kolam (Tamil Nadu), or Rangoli/Rangavali (Karnataka, Maharashtra). In some regions the drawings are created only on auspicious occasions such as festivals and weddings; in others, women create fresh drawings on their thresholds every morning. The Mandana in south Rajasthan corresponds to the seasonal cycle of renewal and the Diwali festival.

When I visited the Bundi village, floors and walls were being repaired and freshly coated with mud and dung; most traces of Mandana had been cleared away in preparation for new work. I found an exception inside one village home – a set of lovely circular and triangle floor paintings that had not yet completely worn away. As concrete materials increasingly replace the traditional mud and dung floors and walls of homes, women have had to use new materials such as oil enamels to create Mandana; some have given up the practice altogether, as concrete surfaces no longer require the annual refurbishing and repainting that Mandana accompanies.

I love the ephemerality of these paintings – as they age and wear away, old patterns are crossed and layered with the patterns of daily human and animal activity. They are executed with mastery and are exceedingly beautiful, yet there is no attachment or attitude of preciousness surrounding them.

Even in the few samples I observed there was great variety of form and pattern. While in some forms of Kolam different shapes have different meanings, I was told that Mandana patterns, at least in this village, were made purely for their beauty and as expressions of devotion. I asked some women about how they learned to create them. Is there a book of patterns? Do you practice them as children? Study them in school? I was told that for these women, the patterns are not taught; they are ‘already in them when they are born’.

Mandana on the concrete floor of a village home

Village home with concrete architecture; Mandana adorning fire cooking pit

Proud villagers with papaya tree and garlic harvest