Travel Diary : # IN SEARCH OF THE FOOTPRINT OF RYTHM #EXPERIENCE
Hotels do it pretty casually and bring out the forgotten old characters to please their customers. The crown plaza, Chennai, had brought a Mami *in their lounge in traditional attire in madisar* sari to offer hot vada, thatta with filter coffee. I‘ve seen a parrot astrologer in a star hotel as an entertainer to the guests, he was busy forecasting the lifeline of a worried looking foreigner.
At times folk art theme are set up in the ball rooms of five star hotels and the folk artists – who are becoming a fast extinct species - were brought to the parties , weddings, and product launches to create the ambience
Traditionally, the folk arts are an outdoor affair, it is meant to be played in open space. Some of the sounds of the percussions used in these folk arts will be deafening inside the closed ball rooms. Most of the folk dance and music forms are street based and people watch it live in open areas . It will be loud enough for a large crowd; people can listen to the smallest of the nuances very clearly without any amplification support. And the artist and the audience mingle with one another;- the artist will get spot admiration and the audience will get their selection of songs on request ,and that’s the fabric of these old art forms .
Any art, when its is performed and listened in its native form and its nativity, will be appealing to the soul. And Indian villages and some remote Indian towns can take reasonable pride for keeping these arts form alive, by maintaining the tradition of conducting the temple festivals. It is unfortunate to note that these temple festivals are also slowly wading away, and so are the art forms and their lineage.
I got an opportunity to watch a folk performance in its native background. Thanks to one of my college mate Kolappan, who casually invited me to a temple festival in his village. Kolappan was really knowledge full in this subject and keeps writing in Medias. Since time was conducive for me and some of my likeminded friends, we decided to give a ‘try’. Since It was near my home town in the south of India, in a place called Parakkai, in Kanyakumari district, our plan materialised faster than expected.
Kolappan was prompt in giving the Google pin and asked us to be there by 8 P.M. Normally these kind of temple festivals starts only by the evening and go on till the next day morning and that’s the format; one by one the temple rituals will go on and so with the music . The Idea is to keep the people engaged and to conduct the rituals and keep them occupied with the programs.
We followed the GPS in an Auto rickshaw. The rickshaw dropped us in front of an illuminated wide opened gate, with loud speakers playing devotional songs. We felt the ambiance of a festival and went inside , there was not much of action except for some arrangements of downloading materials and it seems the festival was about to begin , but the festival mood had caught us . The dressing up of the idol “ the Madan “ a regional god was on. These gods are supposed to be the guardians of the villages and generally these folk arts are performed in the annual festivals for the Guardian deities, or a hero stone* or community deities.
In Tamilnadu Traditionally all the folk art forms are performed in these ‘small god “or ‘guardian god’ temples, as a result ,it is promoted and popularised around these gods. In a way, these gods are the saviours of these folk arts in all parts of the India and they are accountable for preserving these art forms alive till date.
Ok....We were just settling around and were waiting for Kolappan our host to arrive and also the programme to start ... only then I got this scratch on my elbow from my friend Nagarajan ... ‘ Makka(dude) this is a cremation ground and he pointed out the ditch where exactly the cremation happens . Not quite convinced! I looked at it again, I was shocked and called Kolappan in panic.”
“Yeah! The festival and all the programs are going to happen in the crematorium only and the festival is for the guard of the crematorium” “!Don’t worry ! I will join you shortly!” Kolappan was cool about it.
We slipped into a “not so comfortable zone” and looked at each other in anxiety... we were offered chairs to conveniently sit in the crematorium, and were offered betel nuts to chew to pass the time. The crematorium was well decorated for the situation -the usual pandal, serial lights, colourful tube lights and the powerful focus lights. Festive atmosphere was very well brought out. Its a typical village crematorium , with a massive oldie banyan tree with its sprawling prop roots covering an acre of the premises , where its heavy main trunks with its propped up roots reminding the old illustrations in comic books of king Vikram and Betal (vikram and vedhala )stories. I could see the bats flying here and there as they were disturbed with their normal routine.
The villagers were roaming around finding the suitable place to sit and listen to the programs which were about to start. Some people were in alcohol induced aberration, and came prepared to enjoy the programme. The cold air was giving even more sickly sense. The villagers were looking at us like strangers as we were over dressed for the situation and the location. It was well past 10 P.M and the feel of ‘we’, sitting still in a crematorium at this odd hours gave us an unsettling feel and just then Kolapan arrived.
Then slowly the program started and there were two on the list namely “KANIAYAN KOOTHU” *and “THAPPAM” . They started with the kaniyan koothu, and we were fortunate enough to witness only this one. Kaniyan koothu is a very rare form of art and it is performed only in the rural areas of south Tamil nadu, and for the next two days more folk arts like Villupattu, Naiyandi etc are also in the schedule.
Kolappan told us that more crowd are expected tomorrow and people from the nearest villages are also expected to assemble to witness this and thus the programme started... The opening songs were like customary to give respect to the lord and to the organisers and they were going on in playing the music detailing about the lord’s glory. ...and slowly the event gathered momentum.
This art form is very unique , as it is an ‘all male’ folk art . The percussionist, the singer and the dancers are all males. The male dancers dress in female dress – the traditional sari- and dance in circles.
Two people play a round percussion instrument called magudam and one singer ..the flow was mixed with casual narration and with custom made songs. The instrument was played with their fingers and palm ... and the kind of tone it produced was totally different from the normal percussion instruments and it was amazing. We slowly started to sync with the music and , got caught up with the groove. Three dancers were dancing in circle to the rhythm and tune and in sync to the beats .
During the breaks, while the male dancers in female costumes squatted and smoked, the artists heated the skin of the instrument to synchronize the scales.
The percussionist’s fingers were jus doing magic on the instrument. They speeded up the beats and elevated to us a peak and mellowed us down nicely to meadows , our minds have started jingling with the beats . I watched around the crowd, everybody was in sync with the music and the beat . The rhythm and the variation of the beat and the vocal of the singer gave a genuine country flavour and have hit our souls thru the ears . At this odd hours the music from the crematorium has filled the air of the entire village. We were so glued to the music that we have forgotten where we were. Even people without music inclination will get caught over with the music such was the pull.
This is really authentic, from the soul to the soul; conveyed it with ease. No doubt! .... The artists shared their emotions; feel and soul thru their beats .We reluctantly left the place at around 2 A.M. The rhythm was in our nerves and the music lingered in our ears, and already a longer night, it took even longer time for us sleep.
I was just wondering and comparing watching a jazz concert in the ball room vs this simple music in a village crematorium. I am 100 % sure the jazz wouldn’t have created this kind of impact. And thanked Kolappan generously for giving this lovely experience.
Worth the effort of travelling and experiencing ,these rare subjects in weird places.
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