In every corner of the world, we find rituals that are potent testimonies of human existence. From the icy expanses of the Artic to the bustling streets of Tokyo, rituals are woven through society. Being the backbone of many communities, it offers a window into the world of cultures and the essence of real human connection.
Like religion, rituals connect past, present, and future, passing down ancestral wisdom.
Theyyam, a distinct religion and culture prevalent in West India, was next on my list. This one excited me; knowing the nature and intensity of the ritual, this was bound to be a heart-hammering episode.
The Theyyam performers equip spiritual authority by offering counsel and blessings, thus rendering them a status of God.
The ceremonies start late at night, featuring intense and vigorous dances into the early morning. Here is my account of dancing with the Gods. The Theyyam
Where It All Began: In Search Of Sparks
Like the rest of my escapades, this began by surfing the internet, searching for the next immersive experience, which lives outside the paragraphs of a brochure.
With my digital shovel, I bore a hole through the Google search engine, narrowly avoiding your typical online holiday packages, finally ending up at a place called ‘Kannur’.
The stage was set in the lush landscape of Kerela, Western India.
The Theyyam dance is celebrated between October and May every year. Beginning at around 2 am, this hypnotic dance ripples into the sunrise, a big difference from the sunrises I had just witnessed in GOA.
Although people danced until the sun came up in Goa, there was no Theyyam in sight. (One could argue that this rave culture is somewhat ceremonial, but that’s for a different day)
Brushing the sand out of my hair, I approached the departure gate in Goa, curious about how many people from the west take this trip. I asked the lady behind the ticket stand this question, and to my delight, she replied, “Very little”.
Eyes of Gods: Gazing into the Theyyam Performers
Just as I plucked the remaining pieces of sand from my hair, the plane touched down in Kannur.
After finding their contact details on a random online forum, I arranged to meet someone at the airport.
This person would act as my tour guide in exchange for a few rupees, but it was not through a conventional channel, which gave me hope that I was going in the right direction.
You see, I am very sceptical of these guided tours, sometimes in these more colourful parts of the world where regulation is not regular, you can end up in someone’s mother’s kitchen for a fee. Read my post about my time with an African tribe; here, I shine some light on what I mean.
Anyway, after a few hours dodging cows en route to the unknown destination, we arrived at an outdoor temple.
Blinded by fluorescent lights, I explored before the spectacle began. To the left was a walled area about knee height; just at the entrance, an abundance of shoes were piling up, signalling that this was where we would be dancing with God.
Smouldering Spirits: The Role of Fire
As the shoes piled up, the visual drama began to unwind like a ball of yarn.
Strings of musicians emerged, using the sound of the tribal drums to bring forth the pilgrims.
Leaving my shoes behind, I joined in with the crowd. The Theyyams started emerging, each looking more decadent than the last.
It felt as if the air around me was supercharged with ancient spiritual energy, acting like a current, guiding me around the temple we circled continuously.
Like water, we filled every open space, gazing in awe. There was now a Theyyam circling the temple with a rather large object attached to himself, which I later found out is called a Kavadi.
Round and round we went, people singing, crying, celebrating, all the while fireworks roared in the background.
Here was the first and last time I experienced a tangible, powerful energy that left me speechless. Hand over my mouth, eyes like an owl, I looked left to right. “Wow”
My Sacred Scorch: The Theyyam’s Ember Kiss
We now moved on to the next chapter of the morning. As we rippled towards what was once a burning fire, now a pile of hot ambers, I had an idea of what would come.
Out of nowhere, a Theyyam jumped feet first onto the pool of burning ambers, resembling someone jumping into a puddle, but instead of water droplets, sparks from the embers jumped into the air and dropped back to the ground. Amazing.
I craned my neck to the left at this point. I saw an abundance of men crowding around a Theyyam sitting on a seat, comparable to commuters trying to get on a locomotive in Mumbai’s Colaba train station.
The sense of urgency was apparent. I also needed to get on the train, but it wasn’t until I approached that I saw where it was going.
The Theyyam was sitting on a seat wielding a piece of wood that had previously been on fire, now only to be red like the top of a cigarette.
Gently jabbing the foreheads of each pilgrim, this was an opportunity. Still, I don’t know the significance of this to this day, but I had to do it.
I (much like the others) grappled my way to the top like I was trying to get on a train into Tokyo, looking to receive the hot ambers.
I could feel the palpable intensity in the air. I locked eyes with the Theyyam. He said something, jabbed me and sent me on my way. I was then pushed from the number 1 position to the outskirts as I had received what we were all there for.
Final Thoughts
This one was special. Usually, you can stick out like a sore thumb when visiting areas with few tourists and an abundance of locals. For various reasons, people might have perceived me as an outsider when I witnessed the Theyyam ritual, but that was not the case.
I didn’t even feel that people were looking at me, thinking I was lost. My presence was widely accepted, and I felt at ease at all times (besides the ambers on my head that was wild).
The two nights I witnessed this phenomenal ceremony, I was treated like one of them. Maybe this is how we should all treat each other. Let people observe and bathe in our rituals and ceremonies. Do you agree? Email me at [email protected] and let me know. I would love to hear your thoughts.
