Across India, a growing number of families are turning to an unconventional form of memorialization: life-sized silicone statues of deceased loved ones. This emerging trend reflects humanity's evolving relationship with grief and remembrance, as technology enables new ways to preserve memories of those who have passed away.
Subimal Das, a 49-year-old sculptor based in Kolkata, has witnessed this shift firsthand. For 25 years, he primarily created hyper-realistic silicone sculptures of celebrities for museums and public spaces, including figures of Mahatma Gandhi for a museum in Patna, cricket star Virat Kohli for an amusement park in Haridwar, and Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore for the West Bengal Assembly building. However, since 2021, his business has taken an unexpected turn as families increasingly commission statues of their deceased relatives.
Das has crafted approximately 50 such memorial sculptures over the past four years, serving families from West Bengal, Sikkim, Assam, Madhya Pradesh, and Uttar Pradesh. The commissions typically involve creating statues of missing children, spouses lost during the pandemic, or beloved family members who died unexpectedly. These figures are often dressed in the actual clothing of the deceased and positioned within their former homes as permanent memorials.
The process begins with clay modeling, during which families provide detailed feedback to ensure the sculpture captures not just physical likeness but the person's essential character. "It is important to capture the person's essence, not just their likeness," Das explains. This often involves making precise adjustments to facial features, expressions, and even subtle details like the curve of a smile. Prices for these custom memorials start at 300,000 rupees (approximately $3,600).
One of Das's most poignant commissions came from Gita Bhattacharjee, a 65-year-old retired labor department employee from Kolkata. After losing her husband at age 28, her son Abhishek became her sole companion until he mysteriously disappeared when he was 28 years old. Following a decade-long search that yielded no answers, Bhattacharjee decided to seek closure through a memorial statue. "He was all I had after I lost my husband at 28. Then I lost him when he was 28," she reflects. The sculpture now provides companionship as she ages, helping preserve her memories as they naturally fade with time.
Dr. Bipasha Goswami, a 30-year-old veterinary surgeon, and her brother Soumyadeep Goswami commissioned a statue of their father, Nemai Chandra Goswami, after he died of pneumonia at age 68 in 2022. The retired professor from Suri, West Bengal, had been beloved by students and colleagues alike. "His loss shattered us," Dr. Goswami says. "But the sense of community we felt, with so much love pouring in for him from his peers and students, has helped us through it." The memorial statue now receives regular visits from former students who share memories and stories, creating an ongoing connection to their mentor.
The inspiration for their tribute came from an online video of a young woman in Tamil Nadu who received a bust of her deceased parent as a wedding gift. For Dr. Goswami, the statue serves a deeply personal spiritual function: "With the statue in our home, I still get to touch my father's feet and seek his blessings every time I have a big day ahead of me."
This contemporary approach to memorialization echoes historical practices that emerged with early photography in the mid-1800s. During that era, death portraits served as final remembrances, often representing the only photograph ever taken of the deceased. Subjects were carefully positioned in favorite chairs or beds for these special sessions. Before photography, mourning jewelry incorporated locks of hair from lost loved ones into lockets and rings, while archaeological evidence suggests humans have been placing memorial objects at gravesites for over 13,000 years.
Clinical psychologist Priyanka Varma of The Thought Co., who specializes in grief counseling, observes that technological advances continually reshape how people express and process loss. "With time and technology, our relationship with grief and how we express it evolves," she notes. "After photographs, there were home videos. Now, AI bots offer to chat in a deceased person's voice." However, she cautions that while these innovations offer new ways to preserve memories, they could potentially complicate the healing process by making it harder to accept loss and move forward.
Das recalls his first memorial commission during the COVID-19 pandemic, which came from government employee Tapas Sandilya. Sandilya had lost his wife to the virus and was devastated that she died alone, without family present due to safety restrictions. Despite family objections, he insisted on commissioning a statue of his wife. "His unwavering conviction moved me," Das remembers, noting how the man's determination in the face of such profound loss influenced his decision to expand into memorial work.
The emotional impact of these sculptures extends beyond individual families. In Jhargram, West Bengal, a statue of 26-year-old Swarnab Bagchi sits holding his guitar, surrounded by his favorite possessions as arranged by his parents. For Samit Dutta, a 49-year-old advocate at the Calcutta High Court, the two statues of his parents help him feel less alone each morning. Having lost his mother Hena when he was 18 and his father Arun to a stroke three years ago, Dutta finds comfort in their presence during difficult moments. "I find myself sitting in front of them when I am bogged down by a typically tough case," he explains. "It helps to try to think of what they would say to me if they were here."
This growing trend represents more than just artistic craftsmanship; it reflects fundamental human needs for connection, memory preservation, and comfort in the face of loss. As Das philosophically observes, "Who can predict what form grief will take?" These silicon memorials offer families a tangible way to maintain bonds with lost loved ones while navigating the complex process of mourning in contemporary India.
