In the World of Theyyam : The Performance of Poetry

The sheer essence of Theyyam ( the colloquial term for the Sanskrit Deivam or Theivam which hints at a 'masculine' God) carries with it the energy (or should I say magic?) to enrapture and transport you into its own surrrealism, its own poetics and rhythm and makes you a part of it before even you are consciously aware of it. It is an intoxication through art that conjures up thousands of years of history, culture, traditions, myths and stories that run through the veins of North Kerala, especially in the regions of or surrounding the historical Kalathunadu area which occupy the present districts of Kannur and Kasaregod. This ritualistic art form transcends the rigidity of the class and castes demarcations of the Hindu religion and accommodates them all, a stage which is almost utopian in the Indian context till this day. Tribal in nature, this ritualistic art form is the culmination of dance, music and beats along with the retelling of ancient stories, legends or myths.

Theyyam had originally adhered to the primitive tribal religions that embraced Nature and it's various elements and worshipped them. But, since the Aryan religions had started making inroads in these primitive or pagan form of ritual, Theyyam too, had branched out into several sub-cults and has housed millions of extant folk religions. Besides this, it also involves the practice of spirit-worship, hero-worship, masathi-worship, serpent-worship, ancestor worship, gramadevata-worship, and the worship of many brahmanical gods and goddesses. Theyyam has seen a systematic development through centuries of cultural influxes. It has rather, expanded as a cult.

Theyyam is often considered as a sacred theatre that consists of elaborate rituals and customs, costumes and make-up, and rhythm almost like that of the Kathakali. It has several forms and each form has an unique meaning and social connotation. It is mainly performed in the holy places of the rural Kerala, namely the village groves, cult-spots and shrines by preparing a Kalam or a square to invoke the favour of the supernatural forces. The ancestors of these villages believed that the performance of such a ritual would bring prosperity to the village in all aspects. 

Theyyam has been promoted by the Govt. of Kerala that proclaims "...tribal dances of Kerala thrive in the company of music of Dholaks or drums. The dancers present a sight that appears out of this world and to achieve this, the company of music is greatly responsible." 

My first actual intimation with Theyyam happened very unexpectedly at a very unexpected place, at The Adishakti Theatre in Auroville, Pondicherry where I landed up with a friend to spend some spree hours capturing pictures of the finale of their cultural get-together, Tantrotsav. Before that day, Theyyam, for me, had existed as a mere abstract cultural heritage casually discussed and revelled upon by my Malayali friends, a bunch of Youtube videos and a mere conglomeration of both in my mind. My immediate fascinations with the art form were gratified almost many months after I had visited the Kalamandir at Shornur, Kerala and read about it.

The practice and relevance of the tribal and classical art forms of Kerala such as Theyyam, Gadhika, Kaanipattu, Kumbhapattu, Mannankoothu, Kathakali and many many more are living proofs that the Europeans through colonization could not succeed in their 'civilizing' mission of a complete cultural imperialism of the 'orient'. Theyyam represents one of the various ways in which societies write their histories non-verbally. Like the aboriginal forms of art, Theyyam celebrates Man's close relationship with Nature and the notion of a collective identity and unity even today. It forms an integral part of the historical and cultural identity of Kerala.

I would like to end by quoting the first few lines of the poem "The Past" by Oodgeroo Noonuccal.

"Let no one say the past is dead.

 The past is all about us and within.

 Haunted by tribal memories, I know

 This little now, this accidental present

  Is not the all of me, whose long making

  Is so much of the past."