Thursday, November 5, 2026

Three Bengalis in Indonesia


 

Three Bengalis in Indonesia

[“In a dim, distant, unrecorded age

We had met, thou and I, -When my speech became entangled in thine

And my life in thy life” - Rabindranath Tagore, Java, 1927]

There are relationships between civilizations that outlast the political arrangements built around them. Empires rise and dissolve, borders shift, languages disappear and re-emerge, yet something persists beneath them all. This holds true for India and Indonesia which have been connected by the Indian Ocean for more than two thousand years. The same waters that carried spices and silk also carried stories, beliefs, artistic traditions, and ways of seeing the world.

Rabindranath Tagore was sixty-six when he sailed for Indonesia in 1927. The journey had occupied his imagination for years. He believed that India's ancient movement across the ocean was not one of conquest but of language, story, and spiritual imagination. Accompanied by Suniti Kumar Chatterji, Surendranath Kar, and other associates from Shantiniketan, he travelled to encounter the living traces of that history and to build lasting ties between Shantiniketan and Southeast Asia.

What Tagore found surpassed what he had originally expected. Beyond the cosmopolitan colonial world of Batavia lay a civilization that had lived with Indian stories for over fifteen centuries and made them entirely its own. The Ramayana and Mahabharata were not preserved as texts in libraries; they lived in dance, theatre, music, and stone. It was through the efforts of countless people before him that the cultural bridge between India and Indonesia was constructed. Two of them were fellow Bengalis. 

Sanjaya Dynasty

King Panangkaran was the son of King Sanjaya, founder of the Hindu Mataram kingdom in Central Java. One morning around 774 CE, as he admired the fragrant Tanjung (bakul) trees in his palace garden,  his  royal servant rushed to inform him that Buddhist monks from the Srivijaya-Shailendra kingdom, led by Kumaraghosa, a renowned monk of Bengal origins, had come to see him. Panangkaran was startled. He knew the power of the Shailendra king, Dharmasetu, who ruled the ever-expanding Srivijaya kingdom. He would not have sent the venerable Kumaraghosa without an important assignment.

Who was Kumaraghosa? To answer this question, a short diversion towards the Pala dynasty and the Shailendras is necessary.

Palas of Bengal

Kumaraghosa, most likely, came from the patronage of one of the Pala Kings who were great promoters of Mahayana Buddhism. Their  rule of the Bengal and Bihar regions, during 750-1161 CE, is celebrated as the Golden Age of Bengal as they brought lasting stability, flourishing trade and monumental accomplishments in art, education and architecture. The prominent Pala rulers were Gopala (750-770 CE), Dharmapala (770-810 CE) and Devapala (810-850 CE). Mahipala 1 and Ramapala were later monarchs who temporarily revived the declining fortunes of the Palas before their eventual eclipse by the Sena Dynasty in the 12th century.

The Palas heavily funded the legendary Nalanda University and other centres of learning such as the Vikramshila, Odantapuri, and Somapura Mahaviharas, which attracted scholars from across East and South East Asia, particularly from Indonesia. Scholars from these institutions also travelled abroad, which included Kumaraghosa and, much later, Atisha Dipankara, to Indonesia. Pala Art is globally renowned, with Pala bronzes redefining sculptural art. The Palas also cultivated a rich literary culture using Sanskrit and Proto-Bengali, laying the earliest structural roots of what we know as Bengali language today.

Shailendras

Little is known about Kumaraghosa, beyond his origins from the Gauda region of Bengal. He likely set sail from the Bengal port of Tamralipta, navigating maritime trade routes to Java, where, upon arrival, he was appointed Rajaguru  to the ruling house of the Sailendras which was then led by King Dharmasetu. The Sailendras, Lords of the Mountain, were ardent patrons of Mahayana Buddhism. Kumaraghoṣa wielded massive influence over the court. In traditional inscriptions, he is referred to with deep reverence as the Gauḍī-dvīpa-guru, and royal texts emphasize that the Sailendra king was ‘purified by the dust of his feet’ highlighting his strong spiritual authority over the state.

The Monk Diplomat

Anxious on their arrival, and eager to impress the venerable Kumaraghosa and other monks, Panangkaran immediately asked his servants to make them comfortable and deliberately took time to present himself before them. He served them local delicacies, including durian and of course the ubiquitous betel nuts along with daun sirih and baked limestone (what we in India know as pan), in a silver bowl. Panangkaran even remarked how pan was evidence of human ingenuity: each of the three ingredients–the leaf, baked lime and betel nut–had an unpleasant taste when eaten individually, but when combined, they were delicious.

Formalities over, the wily Kumaraghosa revealed an unusual request from his master, King Dharmasetu. The king wished to build a large Buddhist temple, dedicated to the female Buddhist deity Tara, in the village of Kalasan, just outside Kedu valley, and near Prambanan.

Coincidentally, Tara was also the name of Dharmasetu’s daughter who later married another Buddhist King, Samaratungga, who consecrated the Borobudur Temple. Their son was Balaputradeva and their daughter, Pramodavardhini, married Pikatan, the Hindu Sanjaya King.

Witnessing his sister and brother-in-law’s rising prominence in the Shailendra Court, Balaputradeva rebelled and had to flee Java to seek refuge in Palembang, Sumatra, the Srivijaya bastion.

It is noteworthy that Balaputradeva is said to have forged an alliance with the mighty Palas of Bengal and built a monastery at Nalanda. He also sent Balavarmanan as an Ambassador to the court of King Devapala.

The famous Nalanda Copper Plates, the original of which is at the National Museum in New Delhi, have replicas at the new Maura Jambi Museum and the Embassy of India, Jakarta. These plates record King  Devapala’s grant of five villages for the upkeep of the monastery and monks sent by King Balaputradeva. In fact, these copper plates are the only epigraphic evidence of Balaputradeva and his lineage.

Kumaraghosa, most likely sent to Java by either King Gopala or King Devapala, emphasised on the Hindu King Panangkaran’s open-mindedness and diplomatically suggested that just as the ingredients of pan could combine harmoniously despite their individual unpleasant tastes, different religions could coexist in harmony. To further clarify, he added that King Dharmasetu would be pleased if King Panangkaran agreed to the proposal. To this day, it remains unclear whether the original idea came from the King Dharmasetu or of the monk from Bengal. 

Panangkaran realised that the shrewd Bengali had cleverly cornered him with his honeyed words. Though he was a Hindu open to Buddhism, he realised that the location, deep inside Java and just outside the Hindu heartland, was an intelligent choice to make inroads for Buddhism into what was predominantly Hindu territory. He was also in no position to defy Dharmasetu, as doing so would mean war and perhaps his own annihilation. Hiding his anxiety with a smile, Panangkaran told the Bengali monk that it was his honour to support such a noble cause. However, being aware that he would have to pay for the temple construction, he decided to agree on one condition - that his name be recorded in the temple inscription for posterity. The Kalasan prasasti bears testimony to this.

Kumaraghosa, on the other hand, was relieved that he would not have to deliver bad news to King Dharmasetu. He was acutely aware of the fate of such messengers. He was also thrilled that the only condition of Panangkaran was that the prasasti at the temple acknowledge that King Dharmasetu asked for permission and King Panangkaran granted it.

The Great Temples

Four years after that meeting, Kalasan was consecrated in 778 C.E. Pilgrims and monks from across South and Southeast Asia attended the ceremony. King Panagkaran was there, as was Dharmasetu’s daughter, Tara, although Dharmasetu himself was inexplicably absent. Kumaraghosa, of course, was the Master of Ceremonies, which may suggest that he originated the idea. Interestingly, Prince Jayavarman, of Khmer descent, was also present at the ceremony. He was in captivity in Java from where he later escaped to present-day Cambodia, proclaimed Khmer independence, and established the Angkorian empire, which built Angkor Wat in the 12th century.

Thanks to the diplomatic efforts of a Bengali monk, Kalasan became the first Buddhist temple in Java. The temple became deeply intertwined with the cult of Tara. Depicted in green, she was worshipped by sailors who believed she protected them from ocean hazards. Others believed that just like her name, Tara (meaning ‘star’) could illuminate people’s lives. She also got associated with the local Javanese legend of Nyi Roro Kidul, Queen of the Southern Sea. Legend has it that she drags anyone wearing green into the sea. To this day, people avoid wearing green to beaches near Yogyakarta.

Kumaraghosa is also credited with the consecration of yet another Buddhist temple near Prambanan, now known as Candi Manjughosa. It was dedicated to the Bodhisattva Manjushri to protect the kingdom and all living beings. It was due to the efforts of Kumaraghosa, that Buddhism penetrated into the heartland of Java and had its most magnificent manifestation in the Borobudur temple. Panangkaran’s son, Pikatan, initiated the construction of the Hindu Prambanan Temple, a Sivagraha, in 856 CE.

The Second Bengali

Another Bengali came to Indonesia, albeit to Sumatra, and not Java by the name Atisha Dipankara Srijana (982–1054 CE) who was an acharya at the famed Nalanda and Vikramshila universities. Born as Prince Chandragarbha in the Vajrayogina village of the historic region known as Bikrampur, near present-day Dhaka, he renounced his royal inheritance to pursue a spiritual path. Seeking Bodhicitta, Atisha undertook a treacherous 13-month sea voyage to Suvarnadwipa. He came and stayed at Maura Jambi during 1011-1023 CE to learn Mahayana Buddhism from the renowned scholar Serlingpa Dharmakirti.

After Atisha returned to India, his reputation grew so immense that the kings of western Tibet spent years collecting gold and sacrificing lives just to invite him north to restore Dharma in Tibet. He arrived in Tibet in 1042 CE and spent his final 13 years there. He purged corrupt distortions of Tantric practices, harmonised the monastic rules (Vinaya) with secret practices, and insisted that a systematic moral framework must precede advanced meditation. He wrote his masterpiece, Bodhipathapradīpa (Lamp for the Path to Enlightenment). His teachings became the foundation for the Kadam School, founded by his chief disciple, Dromtönpa, which later evolved into the Gelug tradition practiced by the Dalai Lamas.

The Third Bengali

During his journey to Java, almost 1,150 years later, Tagore visited sites,  temples, and witnessed cultural manifestations that were a direct result of the efforts of Kumaraghosa and many like him. Even before reaching Java, Tagore composed the poem Sri Vijaya Lakshmi (To Java: From the Pilgrim from India). Just three weeks after he recited it in Batavia, it had been translated into Javanese by Mangkunegara VII and performed before a formal gathering in Surakarta. This was not homage. It was dialogue.

তোমায় আমায় মিল হয়েছে কোন্ যুগে এইখানে। ভাষায় ভাষায় গাঁথ পড়েছে, প্রাণের সঙ্গে প্রাণে।

"In what age have we met here, you and I, language woven into language, soul into soul."

এবার আবার ডাক শুনেছি, হৃদয় আমার নাচে, হাজার বছর পার হয়ে আজ আসি তোমার কাছে।

"Again I have heard the call, my heart dances; crossing a thousand years I come to you today."

It is heartening to know that a Javanese poet had responded with a poem of his own.

The journey was not an isolated event. It was built upon years of intellectual exchange involving figures such as Raden Mas Noto Soeroto, Ki Hadjar Dewantara, and Mangkunegara VII. Tagore's visit to Dewantara's Taman Siswa school in Yogyakarta revealed striking parallels with Shantiniketan. Both institutions believed that education must be rooted in the language, culture, and lived experiences of the people they served rather than in the requirements of colonial administration. Two institutions, functioning independently on similar ideals, were meeting for the first time.

The consequences of that encounter extended far beyond Tagore's departure from Indonesia. Yet the significance of what followed lay not in imitation but in transformation. Tagore later wrote to Santidev Ghosh, who was studying Javanese dance traditions, advising him: “learn, absorb, and bring back what is valuable, but don't lose your own voice.” That principle became the foundation of Shantiniketan's engagement with Indonesia.

The influence can still be seen in Shantiniketan’s architecture. Surendranath Kar, who accompanied Tagore on parts of his Southeast Asian travels, studied Javanese and Balinese architecture firsthand. The principles he encountered–open pavilions, shaded verandas, craftsmanship, and a seamless relationship between buildings and the landscape–helped shape Shantiniketan's distinctive architectural language. These experiments represented some of the earliest explorations of climate-responsive modern architecture in India and would later influence important strands of Indian modernism in architecture.

The performing arts underwent a similar transformation. Santidev Ghosh's engagement with Indonesian music and dance enriched the evolution of Shantiniketan-Nritya, influencing movement, choreography, costumes, and stage aesthetics. His experiences were later documented in Java O Balir Nrityageet (Music and Dance of Java and Bali), a valuable record of this remarkable exchange.

Perhaps the most enduring legacy can be found in Shantiniketan's batik tradition. Inspired by the sophistication of Indonesian wax-resist textiles, Tagore encouraged the exploration of this medium at Visva-Bharati. Through the pioneering efforts of Pratima Devi (who had earlier learnt Batik in Paris), Andrée Karpélès, Gouri Bhanja, Jamuna Sen, Sukumari Devi, and the Karu Sangha collective, batik evolved into something distinctively Indian. Drawing on alpana traditions, the visual richness of Ajanta and Bagh cave paintings, and the aesthetics of modern Indian art, Shantiniketan developed its own artistic language while remaining indebted to its Indonesian origins.

As artist-thinker-teacher K.G. Subramanyan later observed, Shantiniketan's modernism emerged from a dynamic engagement with Asian traditions, folk cultures, and living craft practices. Therefore, Indonesia was not merely a source of artistic inspiration but an important participant in a larger intellectual project that helped shape an alternative vision of Indian modernism–cosmopolitan in outlook, yet deeply rooted in Asia’s cultural traditions.

Drawing on Java-Jatrir Patra, Shantidev Ghosh's Java O Balir Nritya-Geet, Suniti Kumar Chatterji's Dwipamay Bharat, and the scholarship of Arun Das Gupta, Prasanta Kumar Pal, and others, we can reconstruct what happened during Tagore’s travels in 1927 and also the significance of these encounters.

On the other hand, not much is known about Kumaraghosa. His historical footprint is immortalized only in two famous stone inscriptions: i) the Kalasan prasasti (778 AD), and ii) the Kelurak prasasti (782 AD), located near the Prambanan plain, which explicitly states that Kumaraghoṣa consecrated a magnificent statue of the Bodhisattva Manjushri. More is known about Atisha, as there are Tibetan sources. In Tibetan monasteries, manuscripts that Atisha brought from Sumatra are still preserved.

One wonders with awe whether Tagore, when he visited the temples of Prambanan and Borobudur, was aware of Kumaraghosa and his accomplishments or even about Atisha. While Tagore did not visit Kalasan Temple, his companions Suniti Kumar Chatterji and the musician Dhirendra Krishna Deva Varman made a dedicated excursion to visit Candi Kalasan. Did they discuss Kumaraghosa as they walked around in Kalasan?

Enduring Legacy

The current relevance of these historical connections is reflected in Prime Minister Modi’s visit to Indonesia in July 2026, during which India and Indonesia agreed to commemorate the centenary of the visit of Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore to Indonesia and declared 2026-27 as the “Tagore-Dewantara Year Cultural and Educational Diplomacy.” Ki Hajar Dewantara was a prominent Indonesian independence activist, writer, politician, and  the pioneer of education for native Indonesians during the Dutch colonial era. He is revered as the "Father of National Education" in Indonesia and was inspired by Tagore.

Tagore took back ideas, artistic practices, and cultural relationships with him to Shantiniketan, where they found new expression in architecture, dance, education, and textile arts. Kumaraghosa made Java his home, like many other Buddhist monks who made Suvarnadwipa or even China their home, carrying the flame of Buddhism with him. Atisha’s sojourn in Indonesia was different. He came to learn and take back the learnings to India. All three enriched in their own ways our ties with Indonesia. What emerged from the encounters of the three Bengalis with Indonesia was far more than the exchange of religious ideas or borrowing of artistic forms. It was the continuation of a civilizational conversation - a meeting of cultures, memories, and creative traditions that found new expression, first in Java and Sumatra, and then in Shantiniketan. While writing about the odysseys of these three Bengalis to Indonesia, I realised that among the 27 official ambassadors of India to Indonesia since 1949, I am the first Bengali.



Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Vegetarian Chicken



It is customary for me to host official meetings at India House, particularly when a person seeks a meeting on a holiday or outside of office hours. On such occasions, as the person has come to the house of the Indian Ambassador, we try to make it a high tea,serving the usual chai/coffee along with samosas, kebabs and cookies or cakes. 


On one fine Sunday afternoon, a group of businesspeople came to our house. It was a family business. The entourage included Father, Son and the Director of the company. Along with them was a long time resident of Jakarta, a person of Indian origin. 


As is usual, from the kitchen flowed mugs of chai accompanied by samosas and chicken kebabs. The kebabs of India House look like round cutlets. This significance of this detail becomes more clear as the story progresses.


Sensing, and perhaps knowing, that my guests were pure vegetarian, I invited them to have the chai and offered them the samosas. I served a samosa on the plate of the Father, an elderly avuncular gentleman. In the meanwhile, I asked my fellow Jakartan to help himself to the chicken kebab, knowing fully well that he was non-vegetarian. In the midst of my gesturing towards the chicken kebab’s I spied from the corner of my eye that the Director had already helped himself to a piece and was enjoying it wrapped up in a piece of tissue. Panicked, I didn’t dare say a word, lest he get embarrassed. 


By this time, the Son had finished his tea. I quickly offered him samosas as well however I noticed him eying the chicken kebabs with visible interest. He asked me what they are but before I could answer, my Jakartan friend replied saying that they are not meant for him, and that he should eat the samosas instead. Hearing this, the Director gave a crestfallen look at the Jakartan and and came to the unhappy conclusion that that he should not be eating it either. Dejected, the Director placed the half eaten chicken kebab back on his plate. I immediately offered him a samosa with chutney to assuage his feelings. 


Nonetheless, the Son wasn’t content with the samosa and gave a menacingly hungry looks towards the chicken kebabs. The Jakartan and I hurriedly tried to dissuade him, but before we can physically stop him, he retrieved and bit into one and loudly exclaimed that they are in fact vegetarian. And delicious! Both the Jakartan and I found ourselves too weak to protest or counter him. The Son then picked up one more chicken kebab for himself and as if that was not enought, he piled one on to his Father's plate. If there existed a human embodiment of vegetarianism, it was the Father. The Jakartan and I, looked on with horror, as the Son and Father both dug into their kebabs and demolished them. 


Meanwhile, seeing both the bosses enjoying the chicken kebabs, the Director, didn't want to be left behind,  and with a sparkle in his eyes and sheepish smile on his lips, he picked up the half eaten chicken kebab and devoured it with relish. 


After they had left, both my fellow Jakartan and I were awash with guilt. It is not that we had not tried to dissuade them from eating, but the Son had acquired agency and declared the chicken kebabs to be vegetarian. As hosts, what could we have done, while also trying to prevent embarrassment?


Hoping to unburden ourselves, we narrated to the Wife what had happened. Being a vegetarian herself, she was aghast and almost accused us of blasphemy. Amidst peals of laughter, we explained that we had tried to tell the three of them not to eat the kebab, but they had been adamant. Then, the Wife's anger turned to despair. She wondered what kind of chicken kebabs was she was serving which did not even taste like chicken kebabs. Something must be wrong with them. Having already erred in her eyes, we didn't dare to invite her wrath by agreeing with her. My fellow Jakartan came to our rescue. He suggested that the guests were such staunch vegetarians that they had never tasted chicken in their lives, so how on earth would they know that the kebabs were made of chicken or they were vegetarian. 


                                                        &&&&&

Thursday, March 19, 2026

Nyepi: The Power of Silence



In today’s world it is almost unthinkable that a busy international airport shuts down completely for an entire day. It is not a one-time exception, it happens year after year. Not only is the Ngurah Rai Bali international airport closed to all flights, but all transportation on the island comes to a grinding halt. People remain indoors and at night no lights can be lit. A pervasive silence envelopes the otherwise bustling island. By now, the reader probably is wondering why. No, it is not a time of mourning. It is a festival. It is the Balinese New Year, Nyepi, the day of contemplative silence. 

This year Nyepi is being observed from the morning of 19 March to the morning of 20 March as per the Hindu Saka calendar. It is a profoundly spiritual and cultural celebration, unique to the island of Bali. On Nyepi, people are expected to reflect on the past year in silence and start the New Year with positive intentions. Nyepi is very strictly observed and local community security personnel known as Pecalang are deployed for enforcement of rules. In the past, even internet and mobile services are known to have been restricted. Tourist are expected to remain within their hotels, outside movement is restricted.

A majority of the Balinese are Hindu. In fact, Indonesia is the only country in the world where Hindus of non Indian sub-continental origin are to be found. While there is a great deal of commonality in the religious beliefs between the Balinese and Hindus of the Indian sub-continent, differences abound, and manifest distinctly in observation of festivals. Whereas in India the major Hindu festivals are Holi, Diwali, Durga Puja, Ganesh Chaturthi, or Makar Sankaranti, in Bali these festivals do not resonate. Instead, Balinese have their own festivals, Nyepi being the most prominent.

Nyepi is celebrated in three stages. The first, Melasti, is held a few days before Nyepi. It is a purification ritual meant to cleanse both, the inner and exterior universe, of bad karma and sins. There are colourful processions to beaches or sacred water sources to collect the water of life which is used to cleanse sacred objects such as deities. The second ceremony is Bhuta Yajna and the Ogoh-ogoh parade, a day before Nyepi. Ogoh-ogoh is derived from the Balinese word ogah-ogah, meaning something that is shaken. In the parade large, demonic effigies made of cloth and bamboo is constantly shaken, symbolising the driving out of negative energy. They are later burnt in the village cemetery. It is intended to create a balance among the Supreme, Mankind, and Nature and to appease Batara Kala, the God of the Underworld and Destruction.  

The third, the most evocative and significant ceremony is Nyepi, a day reserved for self-reflection. Nyepi derives from the Balinese ‘Sepi’, which signifies being quiet or still. Anything that might interfere with the singular purpose is strictly prohibited. The islanders spend the whole day praying, fasting and in meditation to strengthen their relationship with the divine whom they call Hyang Widi Wasa. Nyepi is based on Catur Brata or four precepts. The first, Amati Geni prohibits fire and light, including electricity. Even cooking is shunned. The second, Amati Karya bars all physical activity except those dedicated to spiritual cleansing and renewal. The third, Amati Lelunganan prohibits any movement or travelling. The fourth, Amati Lelanguan requires fasting and allows no merrymaking. The Balinese believe that silence in all forms heals and cleans and prepares them for life.

The day after Nyepi, known as Ngembak Geni, is a complete contrast of the previous day. Families and friends gather and socialise, perform religious rituals together and become active within the community.

On Nyepi today, I contemplate what it would be like if we celebrated New Year the Balinese way, far removed from the mindless revelry that has come to characterise 31st December every year.


#Nyepi #Ogoh-Ogoh

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

India(ns) in Indonesia

 


India(ns) in Indonesia

[“In a dim, distant, unrecorded age

We had met, thou and I, -

When my speech became entangled in thine

And my life in thy life”- Rabindranath Tagore, Java, 1927]


On 25 January 2025, at the banquet hosted for the Indonesian President by President Draupadi Murmu at Rashtrapati Bhawan, President Prabowo in his speech observed that he had got his DNA tested and he had Indian DNA. This created quite a ripple in India and the story resonated widely, but for those familiar with India-Indonesia relations, it was not a surprising assertion. Similarly, when two Cabinet Ministers sang, “Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’, at the banquet, it gladdened our hearts and the video went viral. The audience was least expecting and the media was unprepared to record it. I had the presence of mind to record it on my h.p. (hapay) or mobile phone and share it with the news agency ANI.  

These two real life incidents, on one night, in fact one event, highlight both the historic and contemporary nature of our relationship. There has been inter-mixing of races for millennia and inter-marriages are responsible for the amazing diversity of races, cultures and religions in Indonesia. This archipelago or Nusantara has been at the crossroads of trade and movement of ideas between India on one side and China on the other to begin with and later it got extended to Europe during the colonial era. 

A constant reminder of our long and enduring ties is evident in several manifestations including in the language (bahasa); names of places and people; national symbols and slogans; cultural practices; harvest festivals; music (dangdut); food habits; textiles, particularly tribal weaves; folklore (wayang) and legends. No wonder our currencies have the same name, Rupiah or Rupee.

William Dalrymple’s latest book, “The Golden Road”, nicely captures the historical interactions between India and South East Asia. It was the super-highway of trade and ideas and influences spread on both sides. Tim Hannigan records in the “Brief History of Indonesia”, that by the turn of the Common Era, goods gathered in or traded through the Indonesian archipelago were reaching Europe. No one traversed the entire length of the maritime route. There were a string of way-stations and individual journeys were short. They travelled in sail boats from Southeast China to Sumatra; from Sumatra to Bengal and then around the Indian peninsula up north to the Persian Gulf. It was in this context that the Srivijaya kingdom emerged as a network of tributary states. Later, even Singosari and Majapahit in Java can be considered to be so, with Majapahit extending its writ over a large area. 

Sanskrit written in the Pallava script was the first written script in the archipelago. The Tarumanegara Prasasti (inscription) dates back to the early 5th century CE. Taruma incidentally is the Tamil for Dharma. Sanjeev Sanyal in his book, “The Ocean of Churn“, mentions that once a ruling dynasty of South India ran out of male heirs, so they imported one from South East Asia, perhaps from Sumatra. Maura Jambi in Sumatra and Nalanda were easily the Oxford and Cambridge of their times with frequent exchanges of scholars and manuscripts. 

Nalanda and Maura Jambi

The noted Bengali Buddhist monk Atisha Dipankara Srijana (980-1054 CE), born in Vajrayogini village in the historic region of Vikrampur, present day Munshiganj District of Bangladesh, was a scholar at Nalanda. In the year 1012 travelled by sea to Maura Jambi to obtain knowledge from Master Selingpa, also known as Dharmakriti, the greatest living Buddhist scholar of that time. He wrote a fabulous account of the time he spent at Maura Jambi called, “The Journey to the Master”. After spending 13 years imbibing the precious teachings from the master of Suvarnadwipa, Atisha sailed back to India in 1025, where he became the Chief Tutor at Vikramshila University.  In 1041, the King of Tibet invited Atisha to unite all aspects of Buddha’s teachings –Theravada, Mahayana and Vajrayana. Although now 61, Atisha did not hesitate and undertook once again a perilous journey, this time over the icy Himalayas. He was instrumental in revitalising Buddhism in Tibet. He is even today revered in Tibet as their most important monk. Manuscripts from Jambi to this day can be found in Tibetan monasteries. 

Interestingly, Serlingpa, in his time had also travelled to India when he was 21 to seek his master Mahasriratna. Seven days after meeting him, the master disappeared. Serlingpa looked for him all over India for seven years and on the last day of the seventh year, the master came in Serlingpa’s dream and asked him to return to Suvarnadwipa by saying that all your island’s gold is now within you. 

An excellent documentation of the relationship between Suvarnadwipa and Nalanda are the copper plates found during archaeological excavation in Nalanda. The Devapaladeva plates are the most famous, dated to 860 CE, and is a request by Balaputra, the ruler of Suvarnadvipa (Sumatra), for a grant of five villages to fund a Buddhist monastery built at Nalanda. These plates can be seen at the National Museum in New Delhi. Replicas have been made and will soon be displayed at the National Museum in Jakarta. 




Tagore who came to Indonesia in 1927 observed that he saw India everywhere he went but could not recognise it. Indonesian genius has over the centuries transformed Indian ideas and concepts and made them uniquely Indonesian. The interaction was not one way. Each side embellished the other’s gifts. Today a common breakfast food in India is idli. Not many are aware that idli originated in Indonesia. Indonesian rajas may have travelled to India with their retinue of cooks and left behind the technology of making idlis.

The most remarkable of Indian ideas converted by Indonesian genius are the Borobudur and Prambanan Temples. The Prambanan Temple is notable as at the centre of the complex is the temple of Loro Jonggrang, which contains perhaps the earliest and maybe even the greatest ever Ramayana relief ever sculpted. They surpass even those surviving in India. According to Dalrymple, they pre-date any surviving Indian Ramayana sculptural cycles by centuries. For Bengalis and particularly as this is for the Durga Puja Sankalan, it is heartwarming to note that Durga as Mahishasuramardini occupies a place of pride in the chamber next to Shiva in the Prambanan temple. Even after more than 1200 years it maintains its pristine glory. During the visit of the Indonesian President to India in January 2025, both countries agreed to work on the restoration of the Prambanan Temple. This is a bilateral project which will contemporize historical connections.

We are all aware of Hindu-Buddhist influence in Indonesia followed by Islam, which also mostly came from India. In addition, the author was himself surprised to see Jain influence. At the House of Tugu in Batavia, I encountered two wooden sculptures of King Kertanegara of Singosari dressed as a Jain monk. Enquiries with scholars including Dalrymple reveal that it is perhaps a unique specimen in SE Asia. Nowhere else have we encountered Jainism in these parts, as the origin of Jainism pre-dates Buddhism and is not known to have left the shores of India. 


No one reason can be attributed to what some scholars such as Harrington describe as the ‘Indianisation’ of the archipelago. However, what is certain is that there was no active period of expansionism with proselytization. It was more by diffusion and acculturation, over a long period of time. The Indian idea of Kingship and the King being both the temporal and spiritual head may have appealed to the Chieftains and the concept of Raja gained ground in many parts of Indonesia.  

While the historical ties of India with Indonesia are mesmerizing, there were even close ties during colonial times. In fact, in the early 19th century, when control of Indonesia passed from the Dutch to the British, due to Napoleon’s invasion of the Netherlands, Thomas Raffles, who was Lt. Governor in Singapore, was dispatched to manage affairs in Java. Yes, the same Raffles, after which a Singaporean Hotel chain is named. He was equally responsible for ransacking the Yogyakarta Keraton as well as discovering several ancient temples including Borobudur and Singosari. The account of his ransacking the Yogya Sultanate in the book, “Destiny: The Life of Prince Diponegoro of Yogyakarta, 1785-1855” by Peter Carey, is truly heart wrenching. I recollect that in April 2024, I was truly disturbed when reading the book, as I happened to stay in transit accommodation at Raffles, Jakarta as India House was under renovation. I developed uneasiness about living there as it commemorates the ruthless vandaliser Raffles, that I have not yet been able to overcome. Raffles’ boss was Lord Minto, the Governor General based in Calcutta. In fact, from his loot, he dispatched two prasastis to Minto. Upon retirement Minto took one to England and is now displayed at his family estate. The second, known as the Calcutta Stone or the Pucangan Inscription, is an ancient Javanese inscription written in Sanskrit and Old Javanese, dated to 1041 CE during the reign of King Airlangga. It explains some events and the royal genealogy of the king. The Calcutta Stone is located at Indian Museum, Kolkata. 

During the independence struggles of both countries, our nationalist leaders were in close touch with each other. We are all aware of the heroics of Biju Patnaik. India played a crucial role in the then nascent UN by repeatedly bringing Indonesia’s independence on the agenda which led to the Dutch eventually leaving Indonesia only in December 1949 after President Sukarno had proclaimed Independence on 17 August 1945. Although there are apocryphal tales of Netaji Subhash Bose having come to Jakarta to recruit British Indian soldiers to the INA, I haven’t come across any evidence. What is known however is that he transferred from one Japanese submarine to another somewhere in Sumatra on his way from Germany to Japan. Another little known fact is that when the Dutch were about to run over the Republic Capital of Yogyakarta, Sukarno even contemplated an Indonesian government in exile based in India. Luckily, the changing geo-politics of Asia and Europe finally forced the Dutch to capitulate. T. D. Kundan, a Sindhi, originally from Hyderabad in Sindh, played a crucial role during that time as not only an English speaking go-between with the British in Surabaya but also also close aide of Sukarno he helped build ties between independent India and Indonesia. No wonder President Sukarno was the Chief Guest at India’s first Republic Day celebrations in 1950. 




Indian Diaspora

Since our independence, our ties have flourished and gone through troughs and crests. But one dominating feature has been the involvement, role and presence of Indians in Indonesia. As Ambassador to Indonesia my job entails close and regular interaction with the Indian community in Indonesia. When we talk of community, we mean Indians who live in Indonesia and at the same time are aware of their links with India and maintain some sort of connection, be it familial or cultural. The community is distinct from the diaspora, which is a broader concept. The word diaspora comes from the Greek, ‘diaspeirein’ or disperse, which in turn arises from ‘dia’ meaning across, and ‘speirein’ which means scatter. In general terms when we talk of diaspora, it describes a population in a foreign land which retains to some extent its distinct identity and may or may not maintain links with the mother country. 

The diaspora in Indonesia comprises Indian nationals as well Indonesians. While it is possible to trace direct connection between Indian nationals and India, it is not always possible to do so in the case of Indonesians of Indian origin. In many cases the migration may have happened many centuries back and the assimilation is almost total. For the sake of analysis, the Indian diaspora in Indonesia can be categorised into three: i) persons of Indian origin who are totally assimilated into the local culture and population and it is next to impossible to distinguish them, yet there is some characteristic by which they can be identified. Over generations these characteristics have dissipated and they are part and parcel of the local population.  There are several regions of Indonesia where we find such populations, most notably in Sumatra. In my travels across Indonesia, I have come across communities who are aware that they are from India but have over time lost the connection. I recollect a recent trip to Jambi, where Borjo Mauro, my guide, proudly claimed to be of Indian origin but was not able to trace his origins. Notice the shirt he is wearing. It says, “Seloko’, an apabhramsa of Sholoka. 



I have even come across people being referred to as having Indian origin on the basis of facial hair. A significant community which has assimilated in Indonesia yet are distinct are the Dawoodi Bohras. As they are indistinguishable from the local population, they cannot be considered as Overseas Citizens of India unless they have documentary proof of their origins. 

The second category is recent migrants into Indonesia, over the last 100-150 years, during the colonial period. They are mostly from Sindh Province of pre-partition India, Tamil Nadu and Punjabi Sikhs. The people from Sindh came to Indonesia in pursuit of business interests or driven by entrepreneurship in the early decades of the last century. Many first came to Surabaya and then moved to other parts of Indonesia. Presently, they are mostly concentrated in Jakarta. A large percentage of the Sindhi community members are involved in the textiles trade. In fact, Tanah Abang in Jakarta can be considered as  a focal point of their textiles trade. 

Punjabi Sikhs came to Medan during the Dutch colonial rule. I have heard that as they are stoutly built, the Dutch preferred to deploy them as security guards at their banks. Being enterprising, they soon entered into businesses, mostly in sporting goods. From Medan they moved to other parts of Indonesia. Many came to Jakarta. They were initially concentrated in the Pasar Baru area, but are now in other parts. A testimony to their presence is the Pasar Baru Gurudwara. Significantly, the Tanjung Priok Gurudwara commemorated its centenary of establishment in 2025. 

Tamils mostly came to Medan and the initial idea was to replicate the experiment in Malaysia of establishing rubber plantations. They were not so successful, but nevertheless it ensured a sizable Tamil presence in the North Sumatra region. In Medan, there is even a ‘Little India’. Further north in Aceh, also there used to be a significant community, but that has diminished considerably after the 2005 tsunami. In fact, the locals in Aceh are so aware of their links with India that they say that Aceh is an acronym of Arab China Europe and Hindustan. Now Jakarta has a sizable Tamil Indonesian presence. 

As the migration happened in relatively recent times, these communities, although they are Indonesian citizens, are able to trace their roots to present day India or pre-partition India. They have familial or marital links and when established, they are entitled to the OCI card. The above two categories are termed as Persons of Indian Origin.

The third category comprises the Non-Resident Indians (NRIs). They are Indian citizens and travel on Indian passports. They are in Indonesian due to professional reasons and maintain strong links with their mother land. Mostly, they are first generation in Indonesia while their children may have been born here and have Indonesian citizenship. A small minority of them have acquired Indonesian citizenship and are closely integrated in this society. Others continue to be Indians and propose to return to India once their professional duties are over. This is the only category on which we have a fix of the numbers. According to the Director General of Immigration, there are about 15,000 kitas (or resident permit) holders from India in Indonesia. 

Diplomacy and Indian Community 

The Indian Community is vibrant and closely knit into several regional and cultural/religious organisations. Some congregate around temples and places of worship, while others gravitate towards each other during festivals or events. These community organisations, such as Jaba or Tamil Sangam, fulfil the creative and cultural needs of the community. As per information available with the Embassy, as of August 2025, there are 35 such organisations. 

Some organisations have an overarching mandate and are inclusive in their agenda. India Club in this context merits special mention as it is well organised and institutionalised. It is rare to find an India Community organisation with its own office premises and staff anywhere in the world. Indo-Indians, which commemorated its silver jubilee in 2025 also acts as an important bridge builder between Indians and Indonesians. Indonesia is also fortunate to have a bilateral chamber in terms of IndCham which foments business ties and economic engagement. 

The Indian Community in Indonesia has achieved a place of pride and eminence in this country. They are considered to be extremely entrepreneurial and professional. From among the Sindhi Community several are renowned for building the local cinema industry. The Punjabi family is almost synonymous with cinema in Indonesia. A prominent Sindhi led institution is the Gandhi Seva Loka which runs a chain of quality international schools in Indonesia. At one point of time, the Embassy would recruit and deploy Indian teachers in the Gandhi School. The Indonesian Tamil community has also played an important role in maintaining ties with India. The name of Texmaco readily comes to mind. These days the likes of Pak Manivannan and Dato Govindasamy are the torchbearers of the community’s entrepreneurial spirit. The glittering Murugan Temple in Jakarta, perhaps the largest modern Hindu temple in Southeast Asia is also a result of the efforts led by the Tamil community. 

Other Indians such as Lakshmi Mittal of Arcelor Mittal fame and Sri Prakash Lohia of Indorama, incidentally both from Kolkata, started their entrepreneurial journeys in Indonesia and are today globally recognised. Several others established businesses here and are a part and parcel of the Indonesian economy. Our IT experts, Chartered Accountants, and other professionals are much in demand in both domestic and foreign companies operating here. More than 100 Indian headquartered companies operate in Indonesia and Indians have established a vibrant startup ecosystem as well. Surprisingly, a company from Kolkata, Balmer & Lawrie, is the only India SOE operating in Indonesia with a manufacturing facility. This is of course in addition to our two banks, SBI Indonesia and Bank of India Indonesia. The presence of Bukaka aerobridges at Indian airports serves not only as excellent reminder of Indonesian presence in high technology in India but serves as also a connecting bridge.

As a diplomat, we find the Community and the Community Organisations as a living bridge between India and Indonesia and also a force multiplier. The trajectory of our bilateral ties will largely depend on the extent to which we work together and build constituencies and stakeholders for India in Indonesia and for Indonesia in India. 

Note: All photos by author


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