Leto Gaan: The Vanishing Melody of Bengal’s Folk Legacy

1. Introduction: Unveiling Leto Gaan

In the diverse and culturally opulent landscape of Bengal, numerous folk art forms have thrived through centuries, each carrying its unique rhythm, narrative, and social essence. Among these, Leto Gaan holds a distinct and captivating place. Often overshadowed by the popularity of Baul or Jatra, Leto Gaan is an enthralling amalgamation of music, theatre, satire and dance — a mobile performance tradition rooted in rural Bengal.

What makes Leto Gaan particularly fascinating is its adaptability and its role as a social commentator, often blending humour with hard truths. While largely confined to the so-called lower class peoples today, Leto Gaan was once a staple of village entertainment and moral discourse, engaging audiences with its lively energy and piercing lyrics.

2. Origin: Born in the Courtyards of the Common Folk

Leto Gaan didn’t come from royal courts or polished stages. It was born in village courtyards, muddy, dusty, buzzing with life. Its earliest forms can be traced to the 18th century, especially in places like Murshidabad, Nadia, Bardhhaman and Birbhum. It is argued that Munsi Ahmad from Ekgharia, Murshidabad is the forefather of Leto Gaan, but at the same time, it is a matter of debate.

The word ‘Leto’ is believed to have derived from the Sanskrit word ‘Nata’ or ‘Natya’, translating ‘play’, which makes perfect sense that it is a theatrical performance. Two groups of Leto performers might enter into a lyrical battle, arguing through songs, riddles, and rhymes. But instead of fists, they fight with wit and rhythm. There’s usually a mix of myth, mischief, and moral lessons in every show.

Folk researcher Swapan Kumar Thakur, however, traces the origin of ‘Leto’ to ‘Alkap’, another folk musical theatre form popular in Murshidabad and Malda. He says, “Novelist Syed Mustafa Siraj was a performer of Alkap. His autobiographical novel ‘Maya Mridanga’ revolves around it.” According to Thakur, Leto has now transformed into something called ‘pancharas’, rife with profanities.

The performers of every group of Leto Gaan are classified as Sakhi (friend), Sangdar or Songgal (clown), Pathak (masculine characters like king, minister, prince or soldier), and dancers. The performance of the group is led by a Goda Kavi (chief poet). And today also, in Leto, male actors, generally adolescent boys, play the women characters. The participants were the farmers and agriculturalists who in their leisure after the harvest for recreation perform Leto.

In his book ‘Leto’, Barun Kumar Chakraborty, folklore expert, writes, “The tapestry of traditionally composed songs and improvised dance is accompanied by musicians who play instruments such as the bamboo clarinet, harmonium, tabla, cymbals, flute and dubki.”

Unlike more devotional or classical traditions, Leto Gaan belonged to the people. It wasn’t afraid to be funny, bold, even crude at times, because it spoke in the everyday language of the villages it came from. Most importantly, Leto is usually performed in the corner of a fairground or field after the autumn harvest; there’s not even a raised platform or stage unlike that used in a jalsa or jatra.

3. How It Flourished: Laughter, Lyrics, and the Life of the Land

Imagine a time before smartphones, television, or cinema. After a day of work in the fields, or during the off-harvest seasons, people needed a reason to gather, to share stories, to let loose. That’s where Leto Gaan came in.

Performers, often men in colourful, sometimes outrageous costumes, would arrive in a village, carrying little more than a dotara (a simple string instrument), khol, and loads of energy. They set up a stage in the open, usually under the stars, and began spinning their stories.

Generally, Leto Gaan was varied from Prem-Geet (Love songs), duet, Islami, Radha-Krishna centric, Chapan-Utor and Palas. Traditional Letos derived their plot outlines from both Hindu and Islamic myths and legends.

But Leto Gaan wasn’t just entertainment. It was also a method of holding a mirror up to society. By utilizing wordplay and satire, these performances often made jokes about landlords’ arrogance, spoke about injustice, or empathized with women and farmer struggles. These pieces were part satire and part comedy–always getting the audience to think and laugh.

Its flexibility was its strength. It had no fixed script, could be improvised, adapted to local news or gossip, and tailored to suit different audiences. That’s why it travelled so well and stayed popular for so long.

A typical Leto Gaan pala has four stages. Bandana (invocation), Sanlap (conversations), dance and humour. The Leto artiste usually invokes Saraswati, the goddess of music and education. Since a large section of performers as well as the audience are Muslims, sometimes hail to Allah and Islamic mythology are also discussed.

4. Two Streams of Leto Gaan: Of Gods and of People

Over the years, Leto Gaan branched into two powerful streams, one echoing sacred tales from religious traditions, and the other rooted in the lived experiences of the rural masses. Each variation offered a distinct lens, yet both shared the same earthy stage and the same spirit of storytelling.

4.1 Sacred Narratives

This variation of Leto Gaan draws from both Hindu and Muslim religious tales. The tales from the Ramayana, Mahabharata, and Puranas appear contextualized, with stories of saints and Sufi mystics and moral allegories from Islamic folklore. Delivered in various local dialects, the tales were easy to understand and relate to. While they were based in devotion, they were not distant, solemn performances; they infused sacredness, but one where we would feel glad. They provided moral lessons in ways that were both entertaining and culturally sensitive.

4.2 Songs of the Soil

Here, Leto Gaan became a reflection of rural life; honest, bold, and unfiltered. These performances dealt with social realities of feudal oppression, poverty, gender inequities, and caste discrimination. They brought villagers face to face with their social realities that were being acted out, with humor and song, and evoked laughter, and sometimes, serious contemplation. With sharp commentary wrapped in folk humour, this variation served as a cultural conscience. It empowered communities to recognise their struggles and, at times, subtly question the structures around them, all from the heart of a village courtyard.

5. In Popular Culture: Echoes That Still Whisper

Kazi Nazrul Islam, one of the most integral part of the Bengali culture as well as literature, was a Leto artist and composer in his early age. Devajit Bandyopadhyay, a musician and an archivist, who wrote the book ‘Nazruler Natyasangeet’, commented “Exposure to folk theatre early in life helped him pick up skills as a poet, playwright and music composer. Then he began learning Bengali and Sanskrit, and reading their literatures, in addition to his childhood education on Persian and Arabic to polish his skills at Leto Gaan.” Perhaps, the connection of Nazrul with the Leto Gaan, is one of the foremost reasons to hear the term at least, for the mainstream society, though they are mostly unaware of this art form.

But, some peoples like Harakumar Gupta, trying to find out a way out so that it can be represented at a larger scale and the people in general, which is a tough task to execute.

6. Current Status: A Fading Tune

While Leto Gaan is an old and culturally significant tradition, today it is on the verge of collapse. New forms of entertainment, such as television, mobile phones and streaming media have significantly reduced demand for folk performances in person. Urban migration to cities on the part of young people depletes audiences, as villages transform, but reshaping the audience for performance. The nameless sea of people that used to appear in an open field for a Leto show is getting smaller. With fewer troupes performing and even fewer youngsters willing to learn the form, Leto Gaan now survives only in pockets, supported by occasional government grants or cultural programs.

It doesn’t help the of Leto Gaan, which is sometimes known for their bold and sometimes bawdy humour. In a world of political correctness and digital entertainment, politically incorrect polkas, like Leto’s gritty, raw style, attempt to create space for itself. One of the luminaries in Leto Gaan in recent times, Harakumar Gupta states that this form of folk thatre has always been looked down upon by the ‘bhadralok’ or the upper caste people instead of being a popular form of entertainment of the mass.

On the other hand, more recently, vulgarity caught the show in the name of humour. Most of the recent Leto Gaan shows are full of slang, vulgar script and blatant gestures, which is very much disheartening and also causes to create a negative image.

But all is not lost. Some researchers and cultural activists are attempting to archive performances, document the old lyrics, and educate a younger generation on the art form. A few performers like Harakumar Gupta, stubborn and passionate, continue to carry the torch, singing into the silence, hoping someone will listen. In his words, Leto may transform, evolve… but it will never disappear. Yes, this is the hope.

7. Conclusion: Keeping the Song Alive

Leto Gaan is more than music, more than theatre, it’s a voice. That used to be a voice for the people of Bengal, it sang their joy, their pain, their humour and their struggle. It was never crowned but it ruled the hearts of many.

We may no longer gather around a mud platform under the stars to watch Leto troupes perform. But we can still listen. We can archive, record, reinterpret. We can invite these performers into our schools, festivals, even our screens. We can treat them not as relics, but as living artists.

Because Leto Gaan isn’t just a part of Bengal’s past, it’s a part of its soul. And if we let it fade away, we lose a little bit of who we are.
Let’s not let the last Leto songs be sung in silence.

 

REFERENCES:

JOURNAL ARTICLE:

1. Roy, Ankita, “Bishawan O Leto Gan”, Trisangam International Refereed Journal 2,  No. 2, (2022): 127-133

NEW;SPAPER OR MAGAZINE ARTICLE

1. Chaudhuri, Prasun, “Artiste of Fleeting Form”, The Telegraph, October 23, 2022. https://www.telegraphindia.com/culture/artiste-of-fleeting-form-meet-the-man-who-played-the-iconic-indir-thakrun-in-aparajito/cid/1893761

2. Monamee, Maisha Islam, “From Leto Songs to Ghazals- Exploring Nazrul’s Music Versatility”, The Daily Star, August 27, 2023.  https://www.thedailystar.net/entertainment/music/news/leto-songs-ghazals-exploring-nazruls-musical-versatility-3404211

3. Roy, Deba, “Leto Ganer Tathyanusandhan O Nazrul”, Bangla Natok.in, February 13, 2024. https://banglanatok.in/%E0%A6%B2%E0%A7%87%E0%A6%9F%E0%A7%8B-%E0%A6%97%E0%A6%BE%E0%A6%A8-%E0%A6%95%E0%A6%BF/

WEB PAGE

1. Banglapedia. “Leto Gan”. Last modified June 17, 2021. https://en.banglapedia.org/index.php/Leto_Gan

2. Bangla Kobita. Morshed, Mazharul. “Kazi Nazrul O Leto Ganer Kichu Kotha”. Last Modified May 21, 2025. https://www.bangla-kobita.com/morshed75/kazi-nazrul-o-leto-gaaner-kichu-katha/

3. Folk and Tribal Centre. “Folk Drama (Loko Natya)”. Last Accessed June 27, 2025. https://ftcc.wbicad.in/folk-forms/folk-drama.php

4. Lokfolk. “Leto Kabi Dukhu Mia”. Last Modified October 25, 2010, https://lokfolk.blogspot.com/2010/10/?m=1

5. Onushilan.org. “Leto”. Last Accessed June 27, 2025. http://onushilon.org/music/gen/leto-gan.htm