synergies … · theyyam would have more room to perform if the forest was cleared further. when...

There’s a lake underneath theforest where a crocodile runsriot. Thus goes a myth aboutone of Kerala’s sacred groves,

and it’s a myth that is fi��rmly believedby the people who inhabit the areaaround the grove. And aspects of themyth colour the local Theyyamperformed there.

There has always been anunmistakable umbilical link betweenthe dance form of Kerala calledTheyyam and nature. A Theyyam is aritualistic performance wherepantheistic deities are summoned tothe body of the performing man, onewho is almost always from a subalterncommunity. Each of these instances of“possession” is rooted in a unique localmyth, which in turn is rooted in theancient sacred groves of Kerala calledkaavu. Each kaavu is a smallrainforest, and these were inabundance in the State until someyears ago.

In an extraordinary play betweenculture and nature, the grove nurturedthe dance form and the dance formwas instrumental in arresting thedestruction of the groves even whendevelopment and modernity cameknocking. Theyyam’s accoutrementshave always been drawn from nature —such as garlands and decorations ofripe areca nuts, fl��owers, leaves andfruits — just as the biodiversity-richwilderness of the groves has been thehome of the pantheistic deities thatthrived in the Malabar region.

Spirit-worship, ancestor-worship,tree-worship, animal worship, serpent-worship, the worship of the goddessesof disease and the worship of theGraamadevata or village god, all arepart of the Theyyam cult, which is a

SYNERGIESCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC

‘Wherehave mygrovesgone?’The unique pantheistic art form ofthe Theyyam faces increasingthreats of gentrifi��cation andBrahminisation, thus paving the wayfor the destruction of the sacredgroves where it was born

THULASI KAKKAT

folk religion for millions. The numberof major deities surviving now is about100, while the number of Theyyams ismore than 400.

The ritualistic art form is ancient,predating organised Hinduism andharking back to a time of tribalanimism. Over the years, Hinduelements have been slowly taken in andadapted to the ritual. This might wellhave enriched it but might also spellthe death knell for a certain vitalattribute of the Theyyam.

Complete faithIt was always a symbiotic

relationship. The deities —goddesses in most part and

hereditarily embodied bydesignated men fromspecifi��c communities —towered over a feudal

society with its undividedlandholdings. The land and the dance

and the myths nurtured each other.The people of the region hadcomplete and sanguine faith in

the god or goddess who presidedover the region, and the sacrednessattached to the deity was extended tothe grove, thereby giving it a protectivecover.

The hereditary nature of theTheyyam has meant that each custom

and traditional practice is carefullyprotected, fostered and handed over.At a recent performance, for instance,of the Karimchamundi Theyyam at theTharanthatta Karimchamundi shrine innorth Malabar, Naranthan, a veteran

performer, spoke appreciatively of howthe younger generations after him eventoday reverently observe every custombefore transforming into the theyyam.

My village in north Malabar has akaavu. The presiding theyyams —Kadayankathi and Pethalan — inhabitthe perennial darkness of the densewoods, entertaining a particularfondness for the mysterious hours ofdusk or high noon. None dared disturbthe sacred groves at these times, unlessit was to request an exorcism.

The aloof magnifi��cence ofKadayankathi and Pethalan obscuredtheir myths and origin stories, but thedevout knew they had unmediatedaccess to these deities when they

manifested as theyyams during thedays of the ritual.

Missing the woodsOn a recent trip to the kaavu to payrespects to the theyyam during theirannual visit, I was dismayed to fi��nd thatthe surrounding forest had all butdisappeared. When I commented onthis, a neighbour remarked,completely missing the irony, that thetheyyam would have more room toperform if the forest was clearedfurther.

When the Theyyam was a sacredritual, its performance was in thenature of an off��ering to the deity. Andthe forest, the deity’s domain, was theperformance space. Slowly, over theyears, as the Theyyam has increasinglybeen marketed as a tourist attraction, ithas become less ritual and moreentertainment. This has meant that thedance aspect of it has takenprecedence over the space and indeedover the sacred itself. And therecognition of Theyyam’s deeplysymbolic character has begun to giveway to an understanding of it merely asan art form. This, in turn, has impactedthe sanctity of the forests or kaavu,and they are cut down carelessly.

A

Theyyam is ancient, predatingorganised Hinduism and harkingback to a time of tribal animism.Over time, Hindu elements havebeen slowly adapted to the ritualGreen roomDecorations alwayscome from nature— fl��owers, leavesand fruits. Worshipof ancestors, trees,animals, serpents,are all part of thecult. The photosshow various kinds of Theyyamsin fl��ow. Cover photo:KadayankathiTheyyam at Kakkat SreeVishnumoorthyKshethram inKasaragod. THULASI KAKKAT

Being god■ Traditionally,clans set upshrines in akaavu on theirland, where theTheyyam deitywould appearonce a year oreven once in 12 years■ The practicegoes back to theagrarian societyof a time whenclan heads heldmuch of the landaround■ The performersbelong tosubalterncommunities likeVannan, Velan,Malayan, etc. ■ The rituals aredifferent fromBrahminicalones, ofteninvolving bloodsacrifi��ces orwalking onembers■ It’s an open-airperformance infront of theforest shrinethat can go onfor hours ■ The costumesand face-painting areextraordinarilyelaborate, andart forms inthemselves. Theextravagantheadgear calledmudi can evenbe 50-60 ft high■ Musicalinstrumentsinclude chenda,tudi, kuzhal,ilathalam andveekni■ As the dancersspin and twirl tothe franticdrums, theyenter a state oftrance beforecollapsing. Ittakes a while forthem to revive,after whichdevotees seektheir blessings

A CONTINUED ON PAGE 11

kinds of ritual Theyyam) had ceasedfor several years at this grove, whichwas situated on a property owned forgenerations by a feudal lord. At theinsistence of the villagers, the ritualwas revived. The villagers consulted anastrologer for advice on the rituals tobe followed. The astrologer divinedthat the gods and goddesses werecramped inside the confi��nes of thesacred grove. The only solution wastheir re-consecration in a templecomplex outside the grove. A priestwas given the charge of invoking thefavour of the gods and the villagecelebrated the consecration with anannual Kaliyattam.

And thus the kaavu faded from thePeriya Bhagavathi kaavu, and it iscertain to become the PeriyaBhagavathi ‘temple’ in no time. Thisstory is not restricted to Periya

Bhagavathi, but has recurred acrosssacred groves all over North Kerala.You have to look no further thanNandapuram Sreekrishna Temple,where the Vishnumoorthi Theyyamand the Gulikan Theyyam hold annualperformances. Unsurprisingly, a recentconsultation with the astrologer againrevealed that the Theyyam ritual itselfought to be replaced with moreconventional Brahminical templerituals to obtain divine favours. Likethe kaavu, will the ritual performancetoo fade or morph into something else?Only time will tell.

Meanwhile, the theyyam that has forso long watched over the land and itsdenizens must come to its own rescue.The Brahminisation and the loss of thesacred grove have not escaped thenotice of the theyyam, I observed.During a recent performance, theKadayankathi bellowed at the villageelders: ‘Where have my groves gone?’The answer perhaps lies in a questionthe Pethalan posed during theperformance to his gentrifi��ed cousin,Palenthayi Kannan (originating from alocal myth, but whose identity is nowsubsumed by the Narasimha avatar ofVishnu). “Did you christen meKaatumoorthi (primitive forest deity)because you found the name Pethalanuncouth?” he asked.

(The photos featured here are partof a project called Lost Wilderness that

won the India Habitat CentrePhotosphere Award last year.

A selection is on display at India Habitat Centre, New Delhi, till March 18.)

Besides the ecological consequence ofsuch a development, a second threatlooms large over the pantheisticorigins and identity of Theyyam. Agradual Brahminisation has uprootedthe primal spirits from the rock andthe wood of the sacred groves theyused to inhabit. Unlike Brahminicaltemples, the kaavu features no priestlyrituals or lighting of lamps duringnon-Theyyam times. And the ritualsare performed by the peoplethemselves, not by priests. Thus, thesacred grove remains closed for mostof the year, which allows thewilderness to grow back. Thetheyyams, however, are now lodged inbrick-and-mortar temple structuresoutside the sacred grove — andworshipped through rituals unfamiliarto the elemental deities, and theirfavour is mediated by the priestlyclasses. The evicted theyyam takeswith it the sacral protection extendedto the grove.

From grove to templeA grove located in Kasargod district inNorth Kerala — the Periya Bhagavathikaavu — illustrates the changesoccurring in and around all of Kerala’ssacred groves. Kaliyattam (one of many

‘Where have my

groves gone?’A

When the Theyyam was asacred ritual, its performancewas in the nature of anoffering to the deity. And theforest, the deity’s domain, wasthe performance space

Sacred elements Gulikan Theyyam at Tharanthatta Karimchamundi kaavu in Kasargod. THULASI KAKKAT

A CONTINUED FROM PAGE 9