“Reghae
(my name in Malayalam) wake up, wake
up, theyyam is about to start”. That was Prasanna Ele-Amma’s (maternal
aunt) gently nudging me to wake up. It was well past midnight. I pulled myself
up. The room was lit. Rubbing my eyes I tried to remember where I was. Oh Yes!
I was in Pappan Ele-achan’s (Aunt’s husband) Taravad to witness the theyyam
ritual. The sounds of the drum, thottampattu
(folk song), bells, and voices of people flowed in through the window of the
room. It was all happening in the big courtyard in front of the Taravad. I quickly got out of the bed and rushed downstairs.
There
were people everywhere–relatives, neighbors, young, old, rich, poor, low-caste,
upper caste – everyone had arrived to witness the ritual. Children were running
around unable to contain the excitement. Women were dressed in clean-starched mundu-veshti. Some had jewelry on. I
pushed through the people into the courtyard. The entire courtyard was lit up
with tube lights and beautifully decorated with long streamers made of tender
banana and mango leaves. There was rice, flowers, and turmeric everywhere on
the ground. Preparation had begun weeks in advance. The rituals began yesterday
evening. Traditional lamps were lit. Smell of camphor, sandalwood, smoke and
alcohol filled the air. My eyes were desperately searching. And then I saw him.
I
saw him last evening in the courtyard. He looked so ordinary. Now he looked
extraordinarily majestic – beyond life. He was seated on a stool in the middle
of the courtyard. His face was painted red, orange and white with elaborate
symbols. His eyes had been darkened. He wore a huge headdress made up of
flowers, wood, stems, coconut leaves, peacock feathers, brass, silver, and so
many mirrors. His body was adorned with elaborate costume, jewelry, flowers and
coconut leaves. He had huge red breasts. He looked red, dark, horrendous and
yet, so beautiful. My eyes were fixated on the theyyam. As the drumbeat and singing picked up, the theyyam began to shiver. He looked into
the mirror in his hand. His eyes begin to expand, bulge and then with a roar
and jump, he began to scamper in the courtyard. His voice became deep and different. He became Bhagawathi – the Goddess – the
Creatress, and Protectress of my uncle’s lineage. The women (mother and
daughters) of the household came down and offered rice, plantain, fruits, and
flowers to the theyyam. And then
everyone lined up to seek Her blessings. Bhagawathi would throw rice or flowers
at people. Sometimes she would question ardently and sometimes answer
questions. I stood mesmerized as a child. The walls between myth and reality
faded away. Everything dark, ancient, mysterious, life giving and also, life
taking became the Goddess.
 |
| Theyyam picture courtesy of internet. |
This happened every time I witnessed a sacred
ritual art form from Kerala. I have sought validation and proof of its origin. I
was told on several occasions to pride in the fact that I belonged to a
matriarchal lineage. I wanted to know what that really meant? How did it matter
when I no longer saw it structurally? Why does he and not she get to
become Bhagawathi in every theyyam ritual? What meaning do the lines and
circles on his face symbolize? Why those colors? Why do many of the movements remind me of birds, animals and the
forests? Why do the drums, the folk songs and the sounds invoke such ancient
memories and pulsating sensations in my body? My young mind toiled with these
questions without receiving satisfactory answers. Everyone would just shush me
and say, ”You ask too many questions.” I wanted to hold on to these memories
and these questions but somewhere between growing up and pursuing an
engineering degree, getting married and coming to United States, these memories got tucked away until recently.
In my first year of women's spirituality masters program I was introduced to Archaeomythology, an interdisciplinary approach formulated by Lithuanian archaeologist Marija Gimbutas, in a course of the same name at Sofia Institute taught by my professor, Vicki Noble. Archaeomythology is dedicated to cultural research with a particular emphasis on the beliefs, rituals, social structure and symbolism of ancient societies (Marler, n.d.). I understood that the evidence of a culture’s matriarchal history usually lies in the local art forms and folk traditions that have continued as a substratum underneath the foreground patriarchal culture. The revolutionary work of Gimbutas was based on this discovery, bringing to light the Goddess civilizations of Old Europe from the Neolithic period (8th to 4th millennia BCE). The course provided me with the methodology early on in the program to understand the rituals, symbols, beliefs, and goddess culture of the North Malabar region of Kerala, and trace its transition from matriarchy to patriarchy.
As I looked at images of Gods and Goddesses in Old Europe (the name Gimbutas coined for pre-patriarchal Europe), symbols, signs, sacred forests, sacred life forms, ceremonial centers, ceremonial costumes, elaborate rituals, masks, headdresses, temple life, oracles, divinations, and matrilineal societies, I was able to recognize, compare, and understand symbology across time (Paleolithic through present times) and space (across continents and land mass) and map it to the present-day culture of Kerala. I was able to recognize many matriarchal elements in the present-day life of North Malabar, such as serpent worship, existence of numerable sacred forests, ancestral sites, and offerings at these sites, harvest festivals, ritual costumes, goddess worship, and more. I even incorporated some of these elements into the making of my body map (an experiential art project for the Archaeomythology coursework; see Figure below).
I am so gratitude for the work of
Gimbutas. I feel more and more women need to understand her work because it gives women everywhere the 'eye' to recognize long forgotten matriarchal elements in the present culture, in spite of its morphed appearance, so that we may reclaim and embody it.
For those interested to learn about Marija Gimbutas, here is a documentary made on her called Signs Out of Time. Watch it when you are inspired: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozaeuULrLjM
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