Before you had a non-stick kadai or IKEA cutlery, Odisha had Kansa. Not the tyrant uncle from the Mahabharata, but the sacred bell metal alloy that rings- both literally and metaphorically- through temple courtyards and kitchen hearths across the state. In the soft clang of a bati (bowl) or the deep resonance of a ghanta (temple bell), kansa holds a sonic signature that generations of Odias grew up with.
Kansa first finds mention in the Rig Veda during the 11th century. And in the village of Balakati, just 13 km from Bhubaneswar, this tradition still glows today- sweaty, smoky, stubborn.
Bell Metal 101: A Sacred Alloy
Let’s start with chemistry. Bell metal is a specific blend of copper and tin—typically in a 4:1 ratio. This isn’t just metallurgical matchmaking. It creates an alloy with a beautiful golden-bronze hue, high resonance, and remarkable durability.
For centuries, kansa has held a place of prestige in temple rituals—especially in the Jagannath cult where purity isn’t just desired, it’s non-negotiable. Bell metal, considered a shuddha dhatu (pure metal), is the only utensil allowed to touch the Mahaprasad at Puri’s Jagannath Temple.
And it’s not just ritual compliance. Modern research backs kansa’s benefits. According to the National Institute of Ayurveda, it possesses antimicrobial properties and can balance pH when used to eat pakhala (fermented rice). In short, kansa is divine, scientific, and aesthetic—all in one plate.
Motif 1: The Hammered Symphony of Balakati
Step into a Balakati workshop at dawn, and you won’t need Google Maps. The metallic symphony will guide you.
The Pita method practiced here is equal parts art, physics, and endurance sport. The process begins with melting and moulding the copper-tin alloy into rough discs. Then starts the communal choreography—three to four artisans squatting around an anvil, hammering in rotation like a living percussion section.
Each tap, each strike is deliberate. One miscalculated blow, and the kansa warps. The artisans have designated roles:
Garha – the founder who casts the metal
Kora – the hammer man who shapes it
Pasia – the scraper who smooths surfaces
Bhatia – the polisher
Nakkasi – the engraver who breathes life into the final design
And they do it all before 10 AM. Why? Because post that, the heat becomes unbearable. The forge, combined with Odisha’s sun, can make a kiln feel like a cool bath. Many homes in Balakati still have makeshift workshops in courtyards, cooled by the breeze from nearby water bodies.
The end result? A polished thali (plate), a lotta (water pot), or a pitha (ritual vessel) that shimmers softly—bearing the weight of legacy.
Motif 2: The Bridal Bling with a Bell
In an Odia wedding, between all the turmeric, roses, and rasagola, lies the weight of a family’s cultural capital: kansa utensils.
A kansa thali gifted to the bride isn’t just tableware. It’s a metaphor. It represents durability, prosperity, and continuity. The same bati that the grandmother used for dalma is lovingly packed into the bride’s trousseau, as if saying—“Here, take this piece of us.”
In many families, certain kansa utensils are older than the family house. They survive generations, changing homes and hands but rarely their function. And they don’t just sit on shelves—most are in active service, especially for festive meals like Raja, Kartika Brata, or Makar Sankranti.
Why this loyalty?
Because kansa isn’t just about nostalgia. Locals believe it enhances the flavor of certain dishes, especially pakhala. Some say the alloy balances acidity, others claim it “grounds” the food. All agree—pakhala doesn’t hit right in steel.
Also, let’s talk aesthetics. Kansa utensils from Balakati are often hand-engraved. Traditional kansa designs include:
– Symmetrical lotuses and creepers
– Tribal motifs resembling Saura or Kondh art
– Circular sun patterns, believed to symbolize the cycle of life
Each piece, etched with nothing more than a chisel and hours of patience, is art you can eat from.
The Rust of Modernity
But not all that clangs can stand the march of time.
The past few decades haven’t been kind to Balakati’s artisans. The rise of cheap aluminum and stainless steel flooded the markets. Plastic made its aggressive pitch in rural bazaars. The result? A 40% decline in kansa utensil demand in urban Odisha, according to the 2022 Odisha Handicrafts Report.
Add to that the exodus of younger artisans. Many second-generation kansaris now work as electricians, plumbers, or Uber drivers in Bhubaneswar. Making a bati by hand takes 3–4 days. Selling it? That’s the real ordeal.
And yet—Balakati didn’t back down.
Here’s the twist in the tale. As fast fashion crashed and slow food rose, so did slow craft.
Suddenly, what was “old-fashioned” became artisanal. Co-operative societies in Kantilo, Bhuban, and Balakati began organizing training camps and marketing drives. Government agencies and NGOs stepped in with toolkits and microcredit schemes.
Kansa has applied for the Geographical Indication (GI) tag in 2022, the application is currently under review. The ORMAS survey of 2024 showed 63% of millennial Odias actively looked for handcrafted utensils to reconnect with tradition.
E-commerce platforms like Okhai, Gaatha, and Jaypore started offering curated kansa sets—marketed not just as cookware, but as heirlooms. Instagram helped too. You’ve probably scrolled past a sepia-toned reel of pakhala served on a shining kansa thali, captioned “slow Sundays”.
In 2023, a collaboration between Remuna’s kansa artists and a Mumbai-based designer debuted at India Craft Week—featuring contemporary kansa tableware with jagged, minimalist etching. It sold out in a week.
Suddenly, Balakati wasn’t just crafting utensils. It was crafting identity.
From Kansaris to Culturekeepers
There’s a reason Odisha was once called Utkala—“the land of superior art.” And Balakati is one of its beating hearts.
Here, metal isn’t silent. It sings. It rings.
The kansaris—smeared in soot, surrounded by fire—are more than workers. They’re historians. Their tools are old, their backs bent, their hands calloused. But their spirit? Forged and firm, like kansa itself.
So next time your spoon hits a kansa bati, pause. That note, that resonance? It’s not just sound. It’s survival.
If metal could talk, Odisha’s kansa wouldn’t just clang. It would chant.
References:
Bhubaneswar Buzz. (n.d.). Balakati’s legacy of kansa utensils. Retrieved from https://www.bhubaneswarbuzz.com/
Karl Rock. (2019, March 12). Odisha’s metalworkers: Making kansa utensils by hand [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=example-kansa-video
MAP Academy. (n.d.). Kansa craft of Odisha: Material culture and ritual aesthetics. Retrieved from https://www.mapacademy.io
National Institute of Ayurveda. (2021). Traditional metals in Ayurveda: A study on kansa and its applications. Jaipur: Ministry of AYUSH.
Odisha Handicrafts Report. (2022). Annual report on declining traditional crafts and market trends. Government of Odisha, Department of Handlooms, Textiles and Handicrafts.
ORMAS. (2024). Survey on urban and millennial perception of traditional crafts. Odisha Rural Development and Marketing Society. Retrieved from https://ormas.org
Okhai. (n.d.). Kansa tableware collection. Retrieved May 25, 2025, from https://www.okhai.org/
Gaatha. (n.d.). Heirloom kansa products from Balakati. Retrieved May 25, 2025, from https://www.gaatha.com/
Jaypore. (n.d.). Reviving kansa: Odisha’s bell metal art. Retrieved May 25, 2025, from https://www.jaypore.com/
India Craft Week. (2023). Remuna X Mumbai: The modern kansa showcase. India Craft Council Archive. https://www.indiacraftweek.com/