Today, I’ll share a story of a battle! Throughout history, wars have been fought over land, wealth, and even women, and they have always been tragic and bitter. However, this story is about a sweet battle – because this time, the fight is over Bengal's pride and joy, Rasgolla! How would you feel if someone else claimed ownership of something that belongs to you? Although there wasn’t any bloodshed in the tug-of-war between Bengal and Odisha, plenty of sweat was shed by bureaucrats and researchers on both sides. It was a matter of prestige! What was the atmosphere like during this battle? Though a settlement was reached, did we truly find the answer to the question, "Rasgolla, whose are you?" What’s the true history of Rasgolla? Today’s discussion will dive deep into this sweet controversy!
Background of the Battle
Bengal’s sweets are famous worldwide. And when people think of Bengali sweets, Rasgolla is the first name that comes to mind! It’s not just a dessert for Bengalis; it’s part of their cultural identity! Everything was fine until, on July 30, 2015, Odisha celebrated Rasgolla Day on Niladri Vijay! Rasgolla is very popular in Odisha as well, so it’s natural for them to celebrate it. But hidden within this seemingly innocent celebration was the seed of a battle. Odisha had applied for a GI (Geographical Indication) tag for Rasgolla. In response, in 2015, the West Bengal government hastily submitted its own application for a GI tag for Rasgolla.
Let me explain what a GI tag is. A GI tag is essentially a recognition of the geographical authenticity or ownership of a product. The World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) grants this recognition. For example, Darjeeling tea, Gobindobhog rice, Fazli mangoes, Shantipur saris, and Bengali patachitra are some items that have been awarded the Geographical Indication tag. Recently, Tangail saris have been added to the list, sparking another tug-of-war with Bangladesh! But let’s get back to our story…
After two years of debates, questions, answers, and evidence submission, on November 14, 2017, Bengal was awarded the GI tag for ‘Banglar Rasgolla.’ As expected, protests came from Odisha. They gathered various pieces of evidence and submitted a petition, stating, “Rasgolla doesn’t belong solely to Bengal, it’s ours too!” This sparked a war of words between researchers from Bengal and Odisha. Finally, the authorities reached a compromise. They removed one ‘l’ from ‘Rasgolla’ and gave Odisha the GI tag for ‘Rasagola,’ while Bengal retained the complete ‘Rasgolla.’ The matter was settled, but was it truly resolved?
The History of Rasgolla – Bengal’s Perspective
To determine whether the settlement was right or wrong, we need to delve into the history of Rasgolla. We recognize Nabin Chandra Das as the ‘Columbus of Rasgolla.’ He was born in 1845 and is credited with inventing Rasgolla in 1868, at the age of 23. But did Rasgolla exist before that? Just like America existed before Columbus ‘discovered’ it, we can say the same here.
Kshitindranath Tagore, in his essay ‘Luchitarakari,’ mentions Haradhan Moira of Phulia as the inventor of Rasgolla. Haradhan Moira was well-known in Ranaghat. It is said that to stop his daughter’s crying, he once dropped a lump of chhena (curdled milk) into boiling syrup, creating a soft, round sweet, the predecessor of today’s Rasgolla. Later, Haradhan Moira moved to Bagbazar near Kumartuli, where he opened a shop. Nabin Chandra Das, the father of modern Rasgolla, started working there as an apprentice. He gave Rasgolla its iconic sponge-like texture and fame. Hence, Nabin Chandra Das is hailed as the ‘Columbus of Rasgolla.’ Rasgolla became immensely popular in Shantipur even before it gained popularity in Kolkata. Therefore, there’s still a tug-of-war between Ranaghat and Shantipur over the origin of Rasgolla. But regardless of these debates, Bengalis believe that Rasgolla was born in Bengal in the second half of the 19th century, with Nabin Chandra Das as its creator. But what does Odisha have to say about this?
The History of Rasgolla – Odisha’s Perspective
Odiyas dismiss Bengal’s claim to Rasgolla with a wave of the hand! They argue that Bengalis’ fuss over the mere 150-year history of Rasgolla is baseless. In Odra Bhumi (Odisha), the history of Rasgolla is ancient. After the Rath Yatra, Lord Jagannath offered Rasgolla to appease Goddess Lakshmi, following a tradition that still continues during Niladri Bije or Vijay. Furthermore, they claim that Rasgolla is mentioned in the works of one of Odisha’s five great poets, Balaram Das, in his ‘Jagmohan Ramayana.’ When Bharat and Shatrughna embarked on their journey to bring back Rama from exile, they stopped at Bharadwaja’s ashram, where they were served various dishes, including sweets and Rasagola. This 500-year-old text clearly states: "kora rasagola je amruta rasabali." (Written in Roman for clarity.)
Balaram Das was a contemporary of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, meaning this text was written in the 15th century! Further evidence of Rasgolla’s ancient roots can be found in the 1892 ‘Utkal Deepika,’ the 1893 ‘Bali Yatra,’ and the 1904 ‘Utkal Sahitya.’ So how did Rasgolla reach Bengal? They argue that Rasgolla was introduced to Shantipur through followers of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu. As a result, Rasgolla became popular in the Vaishnav regions of Shantipur. In Kolkata, Rasgolla found its way into the homes of the elite in the 19th century through Odia cooks. Therefore, they claim that it’s unfair for Bengalis to lay claim to Rasgolla based on a mere 150 years of history!
Refuting Odisha's Argument
Whether Rasgolla holds an emotional significance for you or not, as a Bengali, hearing such arguments would naturally make you feel dejected. Let’s see if we can counter some of their claims!
Our first question to the Odiyas is: as far as we know, the craft of making chhena or paneer was introduced by the Portuguese. The Portuguese came to India in the 17th century. So, how did chhena Rasgolla or Rasagola come into existence 200 years earlier, or even before that? And the word ‘chhena’ is a Bengali word, isn’t it? In response, they say, “Nonsense!” They claim that words like amiksha and dudhakurchika in Sanskrit texts refer to chhena, and this is mentioned in the 4th century Amarakosha. They also argue that the word chhena comes from the Sanskrit root and that chhena has Persian influences. So if chhena didn’t exist before the Portuguese arrived, why do we find it in ancient Sanskrit literature? Fine, we’ve heard their claim. In response, we can say that, first of all, chhena was never given religious significance in ancient Indian culture. We all know stories about Lord Krishna, whose favorite foods included milk, curd, ghee, butter, and kheer. But have you ever come across chhena in these lists? You won’t. It was believed that chhena was the result of milk curdling, and the transformation of something as pure as milk into its spoiled form was considered unsuitable for religious offerings or any auspicious purposes. But does that mean chhena didn’t exist at all? Of course not. If someone’s milk curdled at home, it would naturally have a name. Just because we don’t eat nettle leaves or go near a nettle plant doesn’t mean it doesn’t have a name! There are extensive descriptions of Bengali cuisine in our ancient and medieval literature, including mentions of various sweets, but chhena is conspicuously absent. The reason is that it wasn’t widely used! The idea of curdling milk deliberately to make chhena and then making sweets from it was not a part of our tradition. Confectioners wouldn’t wait for milk to curdle by chance to make sweets, they would intentionally curdle it. However, curdling milk was seen as inauspicious, and so it wasn’t a common practice. That’s why, even though people knew about chhena, sweets made from it weren’t popular in the past.
This clearly shows that curdling milk to make chhena was not part of our culture. Bengali sweets were made from kheer, butter, and yogurt. Today’s massive chhena and paneer industry in Bengal began only in modern times. We can also talk about Dhakai paneer or Bandel cheese in this context, where the Portuguese played a significant role. Now, the other side might ask, “How did chhena and Rasgolla appear in Balaram Das’s 15th-century text?” Before we answer that, let’s take a look at what’s actually written! Since writing Odia words in Bengali might cause pronunciation issues, I’m writing it in Roman:
Hengu jera maricha naria dudha chhena,
Ghruta re kari nana pistaka rachana…
nari sarapuli je asira chhenapuli
kakara chhenaladu je malpua puri…
kora rasagola je amruta rasabali
manda nanamana amrutapani kadali.
This means Bharat and others were served food made with chhena mixed with asafoetida, cumin, chili, and coconut, as well as various sweets fried in ghee, a type of pitha made from rice flour, sarapuli (another type of sweet made from rice flour and jaggery), chhenapuli, kakara (a sweet without filling), chhena laddoo, malpua, and puri. They were also given kora (hard), rasgolla, and sweet rasabali.
Would you find such an abundance of chhena-based dishes in the medieval Bengali diet as described in Bengali literature? You won’t. So how did this appear in Odia literature? Let’s also question the evidence provided by the Odisha government to claim the GI tag. The documents they referred to begin with the 15th-century Dandi Ramayana, followed by Utkal Deepika in 1892, Bali Yatra in 1893, and Utkal Sahitya in 1904. My first question is: has the original manuscript of the Dandi Ramayana been found? The answer is no. Odia literature flourished on palm-leaf manuscripts from the 15th century onwards. Balaram Das wrote his poetry around 1467. However, 100 years later, in 1568, Kalapahad attacked Odisha, and until 1751, before the Maratha dominance, Odisha was under Muslim rule. That period, especially from 1568 to the 16th century, wasn’t a prosperous time for Odisha’s history. Many manuscripts were destroyed. Nevertheless, Balaram Das’s poetry was one of the most popular works, much like Krittibas’s Ramayana in Bengal, and many copies were made. The Odia palm-leaf manuscript tradition regained prominence in the 18th century. Most of the palm-leaf manuscripts we have today date back to that period. The oldest preserved manuscript in Odisha is a copy of Gita Govinda made in 1494. Generally, palm-leaf manuscripts don’t last more than 300 years, so they are copied over time. It’s not unusual for other poets or scribes to add or modify parts of popular texts like the Ramayana. The Kashidas Mahabharata we read today wasn’t entirely written by Kashiram; much of it was added later, after his death.
Another thing to note is that the evidence provided by Odisha skips from 1467 directly to 1892-93 and 1904. Why aren’t there references from the intervening period? The reason is simple: they don’t exist, just as they don’t exist in Bengali literature. The references that do exist were added later. Therefore, the claim that Rasgolla has been made in Odisha since ancient times is entirely false. Furthermore, there is no mention of Rasgolla being offered to Lord Jagannath in ancient texts like Sri Chaitanya Charitamrita. There is a reference to a round sweet called khirmohan, but it’s not Rasgolla. Even in their GI application, they could not provide any ancient or medieval documents. Instead, they cited a reference from the Odisha Gazette published in 1955.
So, where did Odisha’s Rasagola come from? Did it originate from Kolkata, or did Rasgolla travel to Odisha with Chaitanya Mahaprabhu? I haven’t found any strong evidence to support this theory. However, Odisha’s relationship with the Portuguese, much like Bengal’s, goes back a long way. It can be said that Chaitanya Mahaprabhu and the Portuguese began their presence in Odisha around the same time, in the early 1500s. The Portuguese began establishing themselves in eastern India from 1514, with Pipli in Odisha becoming their settlement. Pipli, or Pipili, now falls within Puri district. From 1514 to 1615, the Portuguese had a monopoly over the region stretching from Odisha to Chittagong. The Dutch only began challenging them around 1625. Chaitanya Mahaprabhu spent the last years of his life in Puri, from around 1509-10 to 1533. As we all know, during these two decades, Chaitanya Mahaprabhu was profoundly influenced by the teachings of Lord Jagannath, and he, in turn, deeply influenced the entire region of Nilachal. Chaitanya Mahaprabhu is believed to have legitimized chhena-based sweets among the Vaishnav community. That’s why Shantipur and Ranaghat claim to be the birthplace of Rasgolla, as I mentioned earlier. It’s possible that chhena gained popularity in Puri through the followers of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu. It’s also possible that the people of Pipli gradually adopted chhena due to Portuguese influence, just as it happened in Bengal. Eventually, it gained legitimacy through Chaitanya Mahaprabhu’s influence and became popular as an offering to Lord Jagannath. However, the Rasgollas of Bengal and Odisha are different in character. Odisha’s Rasagola is not made with pure chhena, making it softer, and the syrup used is caramelized for almost an hour in a 60-40 sugar-to-water ratio, giving the Rasagola its reddish hue.
Therefore, Odisha’s claim as the sole origin of Rasgolla is baseless. They have their own version of history, and if they had been content with that, this battle or today’s debate wouldn’t have been necessary! But it’s not so bad after all, don’t you think? It’s better to have a resolution than leave the matter hanging! So, how many marks do you think I deserve as an advocate in this case?
References:
https://www.iosrjournals.org/iosr-jhss/papers/Vol.28-Issue7/Ser-1/B2807011117.pdf
https://www.anandabazar.com/west-bengal/nadia-murshidabad/rosogolla-where-did-you-come-from-1.707822
https://magazines.odisha.gov.in/Orissareview/2017/April/engpdf/Rasagola.pdf
https://sanskritarticle.com/wp-content/uploads/21-32-Dr.Jharana.Rani_.pdf
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