by Ami Bhat
Alappuzha – Early 2000s3940
…he kept scolding me, and all I could think of were the colors of rage that the artisan at the temple school was applying. The contortions on his face served as an inspiration for me, and all I wanted to do was stand in front of the mirror and imitate him.
In his exclusive interview with Kathakali express, super villain Rakesh Rockstar tells us about his humble beginnings, of how he ran away at the age of 12 to Kerala Kalamandalam to study under the famous artist, Raghuraj.
This is the first time that Rakesh has spoken about his early days. Here are some interesting excerpts from his interview with us.
Tell us, Rakesh, when did you first fall in love with Kathakali?
Raghuraj sir is actually my maternal uncle. When I was ten years old, he stayed with us for over a year. During this time, I used to see him practice around the house. It was one of those times when I accompanied him for his performance at the Shiva Temple. That, I think, was the first time I fell in love with the art. The way his whole face transformed with those colors, the expressions he brought out in the dance with his face and eyes, and the whole rhythm of ghunghroos——I was bowled. After that, I became his tail.
If I was not in school, I was sitting and watching him practice. Whether it was him perfecting his eye movements in the mirror or actually working on his footwork and mudras, I was there. I began imitating him, and he was kind enough to indulge the kid in me.
So, you joined a training school after that?
My father never really wanted me to learn Kathakali. “Dying art, no money, no future.” That is how he saw it. While when Raghu sir was with us, he did not object to my learning Kathakali. However, when he left, he refused to entertain or spend any money for me on this art. Besides, there were no big schools in Alleppey. So, I started bunking school and going to the Shiva Temple to see the artists in action. I would observe them and then use the basic principles that Raghu sir had taught me to try and imitate them.
38Bunk school? Wow! So, you were never caught?
Oh! I used to board the school bus diligently but, after reaching school, would leap over the wall and go to the public jetty. I would use two rupees from my lunch money to catch the boat to Shiva Temple and come back in time for my return from school. Those days, attendance was not strict. Sometimes, the teacher would not even take the count as a lot of us came from across Vembanad lake in boats. For instance, my own house was at least five water-lanes away. With heavy rains, the boats would not all reach at the same time. So, attendance was futile. I got away for almost six months…
Your parents must have been really angry when they found out?
Livid. I remember that day very clearly. I had just witnessed the Kathakali artists dressing up for a huge performance. I had, in fact, helped them with their make-up—–dabbed the red rice and coconut paint on the face of the artist playing Kansa, helped Krishna tie his ghunghroos, mixed the white paint in coconut oil… When I returned, my father and mother were waiting at the school jetty for me. I knew then that that was the end of my charade.
That night, my father forbade me from even going to school. A swift decision was made that the entire family would leave for Dubai, and I would continue my education there. It was then that I decided to escape. And so, in the early hours of the morning, I sneaked out with my pocket money that I had saved, caught a waterbus to the main jetty, and took a bus to Kerala Kalamandalam where I knew my uncle, and now my Guru, resided.
Wow, that is quite a story…to be inspired by your own Guru to leave home!
There is no doubt that Raghuraj sir was the one who introduced me to this art and made me fall in love with it. However, it is my appa who inspired me to take that bold step to pursue it further.
That night…he kept scolding me, and all I could think of were the colors of rage that the artisan at the temple school was applying. The contortions on his face served as an inspiration for me, and all I wanted to do was stand in front of the mirror and imitate him. His emotions were so strong. There was anger that I had been a truant. At the same time, there was concern and care for what I would grow up to be, how I would survive. There was desperation to make me understand. It is this medley of emotions that I wanted to learn.
Your father must be so proud of you now. An international performer, and now with a lifetime achievement award at such a young age, a Kathakali school of your own. What does he say to you now?
My father passed away six months back, but I am sure he is watching over me and will be very proud to see me receive this award.
Folding the paper, Sushmita wiped her eyes. Her chetta had really come a long way. Appa had forbidden Amma or her to speak of her chetta. Even on his deathbed, he remained angry with his only son. After his death, she had attempted to get in touch with him, but her chetta was away on tour in South Asia. It was only last week that she had finally managed to reach out to his manager, Mohan, who was also his childhood friend.
Mohan had a long conversation with her, sharing various incidents of chetta’s life. He told her of his struggles, his triumphs, how he used to come to visit their old locked home… That one phone call made her hungry to know more about her chetta. That is when Mohan promised to meet her and share pictures and videos. Today was the day he was to arrive with stories of her beloved brother.
As she waited by the jetty for the public ferry, she recalled how her chetta used to practice his expressions on the placid water. She bent over to see her own face in the water. She closed her eyes and recollected the countless times she had spoiled the perfect reflection by throwing stones and causing ripples. So engrossed she was in her memories that she missed the arrival of the ferry. It was only when a soft, warm hand held her shoulder that she opened her eyes.
Right next to her doe-shaped eyes were two sparkling ones. One eyebrow went up and then the other, while the eyes gave her a once-over on the water mirror. A slow smile turned into an expression of wonder and joy, making her smile in turn. And then, before she caused the ripples, she whispered, “Welcome home, chetta.”
BACKWATERS OF KERALA
The backwaters of Kerala
The backwaters of Kerala and the traditional dance form of Kathakali are two key attractions of ‘God’s Own Country’ Kerala. One represents the exotic nature and landscape of the land, while the other showcases the vibrant colors of its culture.
To travelers, the placid backwaters framed by green coconut trees and endless paddy fields are just an exotic destination. But to the locals, the unending water lanes are a way of life. Today, as one spends time on the traditional houseboats, the Ketuvellams, they can still witness life on the backwaters - the busy public ferries racing across, the local kids playing by the shore, the duck farmers guiding their flock, and the fishermen casting their nets.
Witnessing a Kathakali performance gives you a different perspective on the culture of Kerala. The seven-hundred-year-old dance form is actually a form of story-telling, which is generally performed by males and involves rigorous training from a very early age. The dance form involves the use of various facial muscles to create expressions or bhavas during the recital. The rhythmic footwork and use of hand gestures or mudras, along with alluring face masks and elaborate costumes, all come together to create magic for the onlookers. To understand the true flavor of this dance form, one must attempt to see the pre-dance preparations, the way they paint their faces, and how they complete their look with their extravagant costumes and head-gears.
Additional Reading
Life on the Backwaters of Kerala - https://thrillingtravel.in/life-along-backwaters-of-kerala-alleppey.html
I Am Omnipresent
Kathmandu, Nepal
Year 2000 – Kathmandu
The pillars swayed from side to side. Terrified screams accompanied the crashing sounds outside. The jolting walls caused all the flowers to tumble, and the undulating floor ensured no one could stand still. Stumbling along the unstable ground, Sabina reached
the little child in red and took her into her lap. “Bless me, O Goddess! Help me brave this force of nature,” she said to the child.
The child just stared back at her fearlessly and raised her arm in blessing. Unperturbed by the chaos around her, she passed on her strength to those willing to protect her with their lives. Her aura grew more powerful to spread through the entire three-floored Kumari Ghar42. Her wheel of protection soon encompassed all her devotees trapped in the courtyard below.
“I will be with you all along just as I was when I chose you,” whispered Goddess Taleju43 to the chosen one sitting on the lap of her caretaker. Those were the words of the immortal that only Kumari could hear.
Year 1996 – Kathmandu
She first chose the Shakya44 girl when she was three years old. The child had the perfect features—eyelashes like a cow’s, neck like a conch shell, thighs like a deer’s, and a soft voice like a duck’s. She was born in her chosen nakshatra of a peacock. Her unblemished golden complexion and dark eyes were just as she was destined to have.
The child with her confident gaze, unwavering strength, and resilience embodied all that she, Goddess Taleju, was. “The time for the current Living Goddess to retire isn’t far. Soon, my love, you will have to take her place. Stay happy, stay strong till then,” she said to the child in her dreams.
It was time. The sign had appeared, and the horoscopes of all prospects from the Shakya family were being read. There were at least seven of them whose nakshatra45 matched that of the present king. However, only three of them had the perfect battis lakshan46. It was time for the closed-door examination by the High Priestess. She narrowed it down to just two—one being her favorite chosen one.
It is time for me to reveal myself to my heir, thought the Goddess. The time to share her purpose and tell her the story of why she was chosen has come. And with that, the Goddess entered her new representative.
Locked in a dark room, the little Shakya girl sat on a cushioned chair. Dressed in red, her hair up and eyes painted, she stared at the oil lamp in front of her. Her mother had told her that she must learn to be alone. “Don’t be afraid of anything, for Goddess Taleju will always be there for you. She has chosen you, and she will take care of you.”
“She is right, you know,” said a mysterious voice. “I will always protect you. You mustn’t worry about anything or anyone. You are destined to be my living representation, to bless my devotees, and use your divine power to take care of them. I will be with you till they take care of you.”
The little girl saw her in the golden glow of the lamp. She had a kind face filled with strength. Just that glimpse gave her a strange power, a feeling of comfort. “Is that you? Goddess Taleju?” she asked.
“Yes, my child! It is time for me to tell you how it all started. My story will give you the purpose of your life. It all started with a game of dice between King Jayaprakash Malla and I.” The atmosphere around the Goddess dissolved to show the actual game of dice.
12th Century – In the private quarters of King Jayaprakash Malla
The king watched her as she rolled the dice. The way she cupped them together and shook them in her delicate palms, how the twinkle in her eye turned into triumphant joy, the little kid like enthusiasm as she moved her pawns on the board…everything about her seemed exotic. The ritual of dice games was just an excuse to see her.
It was an accidental touch of her hands as she passed on the dice that set him on fire. He used the opportunity to hold her hand. Suddenly, the playful look on her face became guarded. Jayaprakash mistook it as initial hesitation as he reached out his other hand to hold her face.
Smack!
She pushed the hand and let blind fury take over. “How dare you?” she raged. The table between them overturned as she suddenly stood up. Clouds of rage swirled around as she screamed, “This mistake will cost you, Jayaprakash. This is the last you will see of me. Not just you but everyone around you will pay for this.”
Jayaprakash went on his knees and pleaded with her, “O Goddess! This is my mistake. I should have never…it was just a moment of weakness. Never again! I promise you. Please, don’t punish us. My people have not done anything wrong. It is just me. And I will take any punishment that you have to give. Please!”
It took a few more such pleadings before she calmed down. Her parting words set a new regime that continues even today. “I forgive you, but only because you pleaded for more than yourself. I will continue to shower my blessings on those who deserve it. However, I no longer will meet you in this form. I shall pick my Kumari and reside within her till it is time for me to move to another. My Kumari will be pure. She will be strong enough to take forward my power and help those around her. At the same time, she will be young enough to save me from evil eyes like yours. And the day she grows up is the day I will choose another.”
1996 – Kathmandu
“Now you know why you are special,” she spoke to the little girl as the clouds of the past flew away. Suddenly, the little girl saw a demon in front of her. It seemed as if he was exiting the room. The little girl seemed confused and sought her Goddess.
“Who was that? When did he come in? Why did I not see him before?” she asked the Goddess.
“He was just a mere human to test your bravery. He entered when you were living my story with me. To him, you seemed disinterested in him, unafraid and bold. To you, he was invisible because I was there with you. It was a test that the humans do to ensure you are the chosen one, for only if you are, you would be able to see me and be as brave as they expect you to be. Else, you would exit like her,” the Goddess said, pointing to the other little girl in the room.
The second candidate was sobbing uncontrollably. She had already reached for the door and exited. A flurry of steps followed with the chorus of “Jai Kumari47.” The door flung open, and the high priest came in and knelt before the little girl. As she stood up, he kissed her feet and carried her out with pride.
“Be my representative, love these devotees, guide them, and share my power with them. I am with you, in you!” whispered Goddess Taleju to her new Kumari.
Year 2000 – Kathmandu
The explosive rumblings had ceased. Her caretaker had long taken her to the open courtyard of the Kumari Ghar. It was then she saw the devotees holding onto the various pillars in her home. They had come to visit her, and with her protective power, she had kept them safe. Just a small crack is all that her home had to suffer.
All the other buildings, the nearby palaces and temples around the Kumari Ghar, had crumbled. Some partially, some fully. People trapped under them wailed in agony, and a few lay still.
Kumari expanded her power to soothe their pain. Over the next few days, she blessed the ones who sent her their prayers. She gave them the strength to deal with the devastation around. Slowly, things got back to normal.
“You have done well, little one. Soon, it would be time to relieve you. Remember that even when I leave, I have not abandoned you. You will always have my protective touch,” said the Goddess in her dreams that night.
Kumari smiled in her sleep. The next day, she woke up to that spot of red on her clean sheets. And just as it had started, it was over!
KATHMANDU DURBAR SQUARE, NEPAL
Former Kumari of 2017 during the Indra Jatra in Nepal
The Living Goddess of Nepal is a tradition that continues to date. Kumari continues to bless her devotees with the power of Goddess Taleju. She is chosen from the Shakya clan after numerous tests, the details of which are kept secret. Besides the thirty-two desirable traits, the pre-puberty girls from the clan are selected on the basis of their horoscope. The ones shortlisted are subjected to rumored practices of witnessing masked dances in a dark room or slaughtering of animals. The candidate who stays calm and unaffected through these tests is declared Kumari.
There are numerous Kumaris in the Kathmandu valley. The most popular one is that of Kathmandu Square. Once a girl is selected, she has to move out of her birth
home into the Kumari Ghar. Her family ceases to stay with her and can visit her on certain days. She is kept protected from any bruises and is not allowed to walk. The only time she steps out of the Kumari Ghar is during the Indra Jatra when she is carried in a palanquin. This is when she goes around to bless her devotees.
Her devotees can visit her at certain times in the Kumari Ghar, and sometimes, she comes to the window of her courtyard to bless her devotees. She ceases to be a Kumari after she attains puberty or if she hurts herself and causes bleeding. It is believed that, along with her blood, the Goddess leaves her and comes back with the new Kumari.
The present-day Kumari was selected when she was three years old.
Additional Reading
Meeting Kumari – the Living Goddess of Nepal - https://thrillingtravel.in/kumari-living-goddess-nepal.html
Celebrating Indra Jatra Festival in Kathmandu - https://thrillingtravel.in/indra-jatra-festival-kathmandu-nepal.html
Lost in the lanes of Kathmandu Durbar Square - https://thrillingtravel.in/lost-lanes-kathmandu-durbar-squarenepal.html
The Last Village
Ladakh, India
Sindhu River – 326 BC
The sparkling ribbon of blue sliced through the great brown mounts, pulling along anything that came in its way. The little breeze that rose from the wild flow got lost in the harsh sun that shone down upon them. The piercing rays burnt them brown, yet they stood there, shivering in their garb layers.
“A strange but pleasing land of contrasts,” remarked Alexander, watching from his high perch. “Very different from all my lands so far. The sun shines down on us, yet we are cold. Despite the massive Sindhu river, there is not much green. In fact, the mountains change colors from black to brown to sometimes white and even red.”