Before 1894, Odisha had no established tradition of political poetry. While a few poems may have contained implicit political references, it was never a central or dominant source of inspiration in Odia verse. In an era when poetry and politics kept a considerable distance from each other, it is striking that a bureaucrat in the British colonial administration would choose to compose an explicitly political work.
Radhanath Ray (1848–1908), widely regarded as the pioneer of modernity in Odia poetry, is often celebrated as an iconoclast for his innovative style and use of language. Yet critics have frequently overlooked the strong political spirit that animates his long poem ‘Durbar’ (The Royal Court).
It is said that ‘Durbar’ was inspired by Ray’s personal disgust toward one of his close relatives, specifically his sister’s husband, the Zamindar of Kaupur who received the “Rai Bahadur” title from the British authorities during a grand durbar held in Cuttack in 1896, presided over by Commissioner Mr Cook. Ironically, the poet himself was awarded the same honour just one year later, in 1897, in recognition of his distinguished service as a school inspector and educationist.
But what inspired him to write a timeless piece of political satire is truly fascinating: it stemmed from Ray’s growing disillusionment with the colonial system and the sycophantic behaviour of Odisha’s feudal elite, who flocked to British durbars for personal honours while ignoring the suffering of their own people.
Published around 1897 as one of Ray’s later kavyas (long narrative poems), ‘Durbar’ makes a bold departure from the devotional, mythological, and romantic themes that had long dominated pre-modern Odia literature. Spanning 745 lines, the poem has no conventional plot or central characters. Instead, it unfolds as a series of sharp, satirical portraits.
It opens with a homage to the historic Barabati Fort in Cuttack, evoking Odisha’s ancient glory as a poignant contrast to its present colonial degradation. The subsequent verses vividly portray the pomp and hypocrisy of a British durbar, where native zamindars and chiefs parade in obsequious deference to colonial officials, trading dignity for titles and favours.
For the first time in Odia literature, Ray introduces the red-turbaned police constable of the British Raj as a powerful symbol of colonial tyranny and arbitrary power. In a scathing satirical passage, he mocks this figure as a fear-mongering agent of the oppressive state, capable of unleashing sudden, unprovoked destruction.
He writes:
କେହୁ ବୋଲେ ମୁହିଁ ଅଟଇ ପୁଲିସ
ବିନା ମେଘେ ସୃଜି ପାରଇ କୁଳିଶ
କିବା ଦୁଃଖୀ ରଙ୍କି କି କୋଟିପତିଏ
ନାଲି ପଗଡିକୁ ନ ଡରନ୍ତି କିଏ?
Some call me the police itself—
Summoning thunderbolts from a cloudless sky.
Be it the wretched pauper or the crore-pati—
Who dares not fear the red turban?
Through this vivid imagery, Ray underscores the universal dread inspired by colonial authority. The “red pagdi” (turban) worn by native police under British command becomes an enduring emblem of indiscriminate oppression, striking without warning or accountability, instilling terror equally in the poorest villager and the wealthiest landlord.
This bold critique in ‘Durbar’ not only marks a pioneering moment of political satire in Odia poetry but also subtly challenges the very system that employed the poet himself.
Ray, drawing inspiration from English satirists like John Dryden and Alexander Pope, employs blank verse, a form he pioneered in Odia poetry, to lampoon these figures as spineless opportunists, more interested in currying favour than in alleviating the famine, poverty, and exploitation endured by the masses.
The poem’s political edge is unmistakable: it denounces despots, tyrants, and oppressors, both foreign and native, while subtly infusing patriotic sentiments that hint at resistance against colonial rule. Ray’s bureaucratic position made this a risky endeavour. His earlier works had already stirred controversy by challenging conventional morality and questioning the power of gods and goddesses.
‘Durbar’ amplified this rebellious spirit, portraying the durbar not not as a symbol of legitimate authority but as a grotesque farce of subjugation. Lines mocking the “feudal chiefs of Orissa who were attending the durbar of British officials and not doing anything for the good of its people” capture Ray’s deep disdain for the elite’s complicity in perpetuating colonial dominance.
This satire was ground breaking, establishing ‘Durbar’ as the first overtly political poem in Odia literature and signalling the dawn of modernism. Ray’s broader contributions – fighting alongside Fakir Mohan Senapati to preserve Odia as a medium of education against Bengali encroachment, introducing Western influences from poets like Keats and Wordsworth, and experimenting with new meters — cemented his legacy as “Kabibara” (Emperor of Poets), a title bestowed by the king of Bamanda.
Yet, “Durbar” faced backlash from conservatives, sparking debates on tradition versus modernity that divided literary circles, with journals like Indradhanu and Bijali fuelling the controversy.
In retrospect, ‘Durbar’ stands as a powerful mirror to the socio-political realities of colonial Odisha. It inspired later generations of poets to engage boldly with themes of nationalism, social reform, and anti-imperialism. Ray’s ability to weave personal irony — critiquing a system that had honoured him — into a broader indictment of power dynamics gives the work enduring relevance.
“Durbar” remains a testament to poetry’s potential as a tool for political awakening, reminding us that true artistry often lies in challenging the status quo.
