Divine Roots: Riddhima’s Artistic Tribute to Tribal Goddesses
In a world rushing forward with modernity, art becomes the sacred pause—allowing us to reconnect with roots, rituals, and raw stories long buried under layers of time. At The Exploration of Art, one name that stood out effortlessly was Riddhima—whose collection evoked reverence, awe, and curiosity through a hauntingly beautiful portrayal of Tribal Goddesses. With the divine presence of Manasa Devi, Bandurga, and Banbibi, Riddhima didn’t just exhibit artwork—she invoked forgotten worlds.
Manasa Devi – The Serpent Goddess of Healing and Revenge
Swathed in serpents, calm yet fierce—Manasa Devi is the goddess of snakes, worshipped in Bengal and Assam. Born of Lord Shiva, yet never fully accepted by the divine hierarchy, she is the embodiment of feminine strength battling rejection and injustice. Riddhima’s portrayal of Manasa does not shy away from duality. The goddess is seen seated on a lotus, snakes twined around her body like living jewels, eyes filled with a calm fury—healing the faithful and destroying those who deny her. This piece feels almost like a poem of resistance—a reminder of how the divine feminine demands space where she is denied.

Bandurga – The Warrior Deity of Tribal Valor
Bandurga, or Bondo Durga, is a fierce tribal form of the revered Goddess Durga—worshipped particularly by indigenous communities in Odisha and Eastern India. She is raw, unpolished, and powerful, often depicted in warpaint, riding tigers, holding weapons crafted in tribal styles. Riddhima’s interpretation breaks away from the mainstream softness often seen in Durga art. Her Bandurga is wild-eyed, tribal marks carved into her skin, and she wears the forest like armor. This piece speaks of rebellion, of wild strength, and a primal mother who leads her people into battle—not with jewels, but with bone, fire, and spirit.
Banbibi – The Forest Goddess of Harmony and Justice
Banbibi is considered the guardian spirit of the Sundarbans, particularly protecting the local people—especially honey collectors, woodcutters, and fishermen—from the dangers of the forest, most notably the Royal Bengal tiger.
She is often seen as a protector against Dokkhin Rai, a malevolent spirit or demon (sometimes depicted as a tiger) who is said to devour humans. Also considered to be the wife of Dakshin Rai, she protects the inhabitants of the jungle from his wrath. Legends also have her origin story as a common young girl, born to a fakir. She is mentioned in a book with a poetry form of prose, by an eminent author , where she protects an innocent boy from Dakshin Rai.
Through these goddesses, Riddhima has not just captured art—she has captured essence. Each stroke whispers old prayers, every texture echoes the chants of tribal forests, and each gaze invites us to remember the divine power that flows from earth, roots, and womanhood. Her work reminds us that divinity doesn’t only wear crowns—it sometimes walks barefoot through the wild.
By bringing these fierce feminine forms to light, Riddhima doesn’t just explore art—she explores identity, heritage, and forgotten goddesses who deserve to be worshipped once again.

