When he was 18, Mintu had left his Murshidabad village one day, got into a bus and arrived at Dharmatala. He did not know Kolkatata at all. He had told the conductor to drop him at the “last stop” in the city.
Mintu had come here — the year was 2000 — because he knew that as a school dropout, he would not go far back home. He needed to be in the city. He was a farmer’s son and he was helping his father in their fields in Brindabanpur, his village, but he did not like it.
“There was nothing else,” says Mintu.
From Dharmatala he walked to Janbazar and asked at a photo framer’s shop if he could work there. The shop-owner agreed to take him on as a helper, who could work and learn the craft and would be provided with food, but would not get any payment. He was free to sleep anywhere on the pavement. Mintu joined immediately.
Next morning he was asked to leave, because the shop owner found out Mintu was a Muslim. Mintu’s formal name is Anwar Hosen Mondal. “I have always been called Mintu, so that’s the name I had told them. They had not asked and I had not told them I was a Muslim. It had not occurred to me, though, that my religion would be a problem because back home the Hindu-Muslim thing is different,” says Mintu. “You don’t face anything like this.”
But he did not leave. The whole day he kept on working. By next morning he knew he was staying on at the shop that mostly made frames for pictures of Hindu deities. The convenience of cheap labour can override the promptings of prejudice.
Today Mintu — he is still more comfortable answering to that name — at 40, owns a studio, a dazzling little spot with glass front and air-conditioning that stands out among the rows of smaller, open stalls lining the Lansdowne Road side of Deshapriya Park. The glow letter sign announces: Tunu’s Art Window. Here Mintu accepts orders for frames, but the space also doubles as a small gallery. Tunu is his mother’s name.
His has been a long journey, made possible through hard work, grit and an equanimity in the face of many adversities, not the least caused by the fact that he is a Muslim.
At the shop we meet his father, who is visiting Mintu for the first time since he set up this shop. Mintu’s father radiates a quiet pride about his son, the eldest of his four children.
“I had always wanted to have something of my own,” says Mintu. It took him 17 years to get here.
He had stayed on at the Janbazar shop, though the work conditions never improved. When he wanted to leave, the shop owner took him to the police station on charges of theft. “But somehow the police believed me.”
Mintu worked at another framing shop for the next few years. In 2007, he borrowed Rs 25,000 and started his own framing business.
“I rented a room near Majestic cinema, 8 feet by 8 feet, with a height of 4 feet, and began to work and live there. I knew some artists from the shop. I would visit Academy of Fine Arts and Birla Academy and request artists to give me their paintings to frame. I had made a visiting card,” says Mintu.
He began to get work. People liked him. He is soft-spoken, polite and pleasant. He goes out of his way to help, says one of his clients. He worked relentlessly. Gradually he started to get not only good work from individual artists and other clients, but also got big projects.
The Deshapriya Park shop, brightly lit, has its walls covered with paintings that he has framed. The large — and all very colourful — paintings are by Subrata Gangopadhyay, Sukanta Das, Subrata Das and Shyamal Mukherjee, artists whose works often land in his studio. As we speak, two big works by Narayan Sinha are lifted out for delivery. They are part of a large series, says Mintu.
When he lived near Majestic cinema, “I would not sleep for a stretch of months at times,” says Mintu. When a Durga Puja pandal wanted to put up a series of images of old Durga idols, Mintu worked overnight and handed over 251 pictures in 24 hours. He has framed over 2,000 images for Academy Theatre Archive, Howrah.
He framed the photographs for several Rituparno Ghosh films, including Chokher Bali and Shob Charitra Kalponik.
He is very grateful to Jogen Chowdhury and Ganesh Haloi for the support and nurture that he has received from these stalwarts and for the opportunity he has got to frame their original works.
Framing is not just framing. Through the years, Mintu has become more sensitive to how much a frame can achieve. “If the frame blends with the background, the main figures are thrown into relief.” The entire composition changes with a frame. It is not an extraneous element, but it does not intrude either.
The frame samples in a corner in his shop are mostly made of synthetic fibre and exported, but a few clients still prefer wood, which is special, says Mintu.
From his 8x8 workshop, he had moved to a 15 feet by 15 feet space in Janbazar, which he had bought, and which again was his home and workshop. “It also had a higher ceiling,” he laughs. But he dreamt of his own shop, a place where he could display his work.
Which was not easy. “I made an advance payment two times. Each time, I was not finally allowed to buy the place because of my religion.”
The Deshapriya Park studio is a dream come true. Here he holds exhibitions as well: of solo artists and on themes. He mentions the exhibitions on Tagore and Goddess Durga that were put up here.
His workshop is now located at a rented space at the Manoharpukur crossing. The Janbazar room is now his home, where he lives with his wife and son. His father is now staying with them.
Mintu wishes that he had studied more. “I feel embarrassed that I cannot always answer messages. I send voice messages. I cannot respond to social media posts adequately,” he says. “Maybe my son will take things forward,” he adds wistfully.
He brightens up again as he talks about his work. With great pride, he shows an M.F. Hussain serigraph and a small Haren Das original that he has been asked to frame. Sometimes, he will buy a painting for himself. One frame on the wall is a striking painting of concentric circles. Mintu shyly admits that he is the artist.
