How Bob Dylan’s Fascination With Bengal’s Mystics Runs Deeper Than We Ever Knew

There are legendary stories about Bob Dylan that seem almost mythical. Accounts of him appearing in places without warning, blending into various cultures, and leaving behind hints of his influence like breadcrumbs. However, one of the most peculiar and often overlooked aspects of music history is how Dylan—the iconic American folk singer—once referred to himself as the Baul of America. This isn’t merely a poetic metaphor; it has genuine ties to his long-standing, surprising connection with India’s Baul tradition, especially his friendship with Purna Das Baul.

It was in the early 90s that Dylan made a quiet visit to Kolkata. The city, which has a deep, unspoken connection to Dylan’s music, was unknowingly welcoming him. This encounter didn’t make headlines or spark the kind of analysis typical of major rock ‘n’ roll events. Yet, it was genuine—intertwined with history like a timeless folk song shared through generations. Perhaps, it revealed more about Dylan than any Rolling Thunder Revue ever could.

You May Also Like: Lesser-Known Facts About The Poet You Know, The Stories You Don't: Faiz Ahmad Faiz

Dylan was in Kolkata for a deeply personal reason—attending the wedding of Dibyendu Das, the son of Purna Das Baul, the renowned Baul Samrat and Bengali folk singer. He stayed in a three-story house tucked away in the narrow lanes of Dhakuria, far from the public eye. This marked the only occasion Bob Dylan ever visited India, and Kolkata unknowingly became the host for America’s wandering minstrel. Perhaps that was just how Dylan preferred it. Like the Bauls, he might have understood that fame can be a burden, and that true music is meant to be free.

This remarkable blend of cultures, music, and history is showcased in the documentary “If Not for You - A Bob Dylan Film,” directed by Jaimin Rajani and Vineet Arora. The film serves as a homage to Dylan, highlighting his impact on the streets of Kolkata and the Indian musicians who found inspiration in his artistry. As I hit play, I was drawn into a journey through music, philosophy, and the unexpected connection between the voice of American folk rebellion and the mystical, wandering minstrels of Bengal—the Bauls.

Where Dylan and Das Pulled Strings

One of the most striking moments in the documentary features Purna Das Baul reflecting on his friendship with Dylan. They were more than just acquaintances; they enjoyed jamming together, sharing music, and even having meals. Interestingly, Dylan’s then manager, Albert B. Grossman, also managed Purna Das Baul, which resulted in their frequent encounters, especially at Bearsville in Woodstock, where they would try out each other’s instruments and discuss their musical ideas.

During an impromptu jam session, Dylan turned to Purna Das and remarked, “Just as you’re a Baul from India, I’m a Baul of America.” This wasn’t merely a casual remark; it reflected Dylan’s awareness of a profound artistic and philosophical bond. The Bauls, known for their beliefs in freedom, rebellion, and the mystical nature of music, struck a chord with Dylan’s own values.

You May Also Like: From Detroit to Dharavi: Why Eminem Matters To Indian Hip-Hop

The Curious Case of John Wesley Harding's Album Cover

This connection went beyond mere friendships or philosophical discussions. There’s a photograph—a significant moment in music history—that visually captures Dylan’s intrigue with the Bauls. If you take a look at Dylan’s 1967 album John Wesley Harding, you’ll notice something striking. Among the rugged Americana vibe of the cover, right next to Dylan, is Purna Das Baul.

What was a Bengali Baul singer doing on the cover of an album named after an American outlaw? Theories abound, but what’s undeniable is that Dylan intentionally included Purna Das Baul in this unusual, cryptic album cover—a choice that suggests more than just a casual acquaintance.

Dylan’s music has always been steeped in mysticism, the kind that transcends the Western singer-songwriter tradition and resonates with something much older, something that predates modern ideas of genre and structure. The Bauls, too, live by their music—not as an industry, but as a philosophy. Their songs are meditations, riddles, allegories, much like Dylan’s own works that resist offering easy answers.

Khichdi and Kindness

One of the most touching moments in their friendship occurred not in India, but in the U.S. While Purna Das Baul was visiting America, Dylan—demonstrating a level of hospitality that was unexpected—brought him and his fellow Bauls a bag of rice and other essentials, allowing them to prepare a dish that felt like home. That dish was Khichdi, the simple yet comforting lentil and rice meal that has sustained countless Indian travellers, mystics, and seekers for generations.

It’s a small but significant image—Dylan, one of the greatest songwriters of all time, sitting with Indian Bauls, sharing Khichdi in Woodstock.

A Baul of America, A Poet for the World

Dylan’s relationship with India isn’t marked by grand gestures. He never held a historic concert here, nor did he record an album infused with sitars like The Beatles. Yet, he discovered a connection—something quieter and more personal. In Purna Das Baul and his community, he recognized a way of life that mirrored his own—a journey in search of something just out of reach, something that defied definition.

“Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free...”

Perhaps Dylan wasn’t merely borrowing a phrase when he referred to himself as the Baul of America. Maybe he truly believed it.