In Pics: Meet the Families Who Keep Chennai’s Colourful Navratri Golu Doll Tradition Alive

Six generations of dolls

On East Mada Street in Chennai’s bustling Mylapore, 75-year-old Rani sits beside her stall, carefully perfecting the paint on a clay doll. She is the sixth generation in her family to sell these Navratri Golu dolls, a trade that has survived through centuries of tradition and craftsmanship. “Many years ago, my ancestors carried these dolls in baskets and went around neighbourhoods selling them. Over time, we finally settled here,” she recalls, her voice steady with memory.

Her relatives run stalls along the same street, with dolls sourced from across the country — Mumbai, Kolkata, Tirupati, Krishnagiri, and Madurai. Their stalls go up during Ganesh Chaturthi and stay until a week after Navratri. For the rest of the year, the family switches to selling fruits and vegetables to make ends meet.

Rani admits that the last two years have been difficult. “The metro rail construction has been the main reason,” she says, adding that the mythology-inspired sets remain her bestsellers.

Dolls that tell every kind of story

A little further down the same street, Bomi is busy negotiating with a customer eager to buy her popular storytelling set. Her stall is a vivid tapestry of tradition and imagination, with dolls priced between Rs 1,000 and Rs 25,000. Every piece is handmade, eco-friendly, and rich in detail. Her collection goes far beyond epic-inspired scenes. Alongside sets from classic tales are cricket teams mid-play, park scenes, and even miniature wedding ceremonies.

“All year, we wait for this one season to come to Chennai from Trichy and set up our stall. This is the only time we can make good money. For the rest of the year, we sell ceramic cutlery in our village,” she says, her voice carrying both hope and resolve.

The tradition of Golu: Steps of stories and togetherness

Across Tamil Nadu, Navratri is incomplete without Golu. Steps are set up in odd numbers — three, five, seven, or nine — and filled with dolls made from clay, mud, or papier-mâché. Each figurine represents a fragment of folklore, storytelling, or daily life, together creating a vibrant narrative of culture and celebration.

It isn’t just public spaces that take on this splendour. In countless homes, women dedicate an entire day to arranging their collections, often including dolls preserved lovingly for generations. Once the display is ready, families invite neighbours and friends, share sweets, sing songs, and strengthen bonds of community.

On the tenth day, the dolls are formally brought to a close. The following morning, they are carefully packed away into cartons, awaiting their return the next year — a ritual of continuity that ties families to both memory and tradition.

Keeping a living tradition alive

For sellers like Rani and Bomi, the nine days of Navratri mean much more than just business. It is the one season that sustains their families, honours their ancestors, and keeps an age-old craft alive in Chennai’s lanes.

Behind every brightly painted doll is a story of resilience — of artisans and sellers who travel across towns, wait all year for these days, and keep hope that their tradition will find new homes. As the lights dim and the dolls are carefully packed away after Navratri, what remains is not just the memory of colours and songs, but the quiet determination of those who make the festival possible.

As the lights dim and the dolls are carefully packed away after Navratri, what remains is not just the memory of colours and songs, but the quiet determination of those who make the festival possible. (Edited by Khushi Arora)