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.