Flexing muscles in nostalgia(REAR WINDOW)

It was big news. King Kong v/s Dhara Singh. The wrestling ring in Madras was jam packed with 30,000 spectators. Both the combatants being Goliaths in their field, who‘d win was the million-dollar question. Literally betting on the outcome, spectators split into two camps. During the match, King Kong did a foul. He tried his hand at the referee as well and was duly sent out, declaring Dhara Singh as the winner. Embittered, the King Kong fans made a melee resulting in police action. Dhara Singh went on to become the hero of Indian cini-goers. The concept of six-pack yet to come, V-shaped body was the fad. And Dhara, its embodiment. Youngsters were thus lured to wrestling and martial arts.  Kalarippayattu, the traditional martial art of Kerala witnessed a renaissance amidst this unprecedented   feverishness. Young men scrambled for kalari masters and this ancient martial art form was brought to centre stage from the brim of extinction.

Someone in our elder generation brought a kalari master from Thalasseri in north Kerala and made him settle in Mannanam. Thalasseri Sukumaran Gurukkal. We grew up, hearing his accolades. Not only that he was an accomplished master of the trade, he was a strict disciplinarian who emphasized on studiously following the rule-book. Students should observe celibacy so as to develop mind along with the body. No booze. No smoking. No naps during day time. At the same time, hit the sack early at night. Not to bask in the sun or lift heavy weight.  The one who picks up arms should have to erase ill- feelings from the mind. Keep mum while training. Do not look hither tether. Do not sit idly. Do not try to boss upon newcomers. Finishing the day’s training everyone should pay obeisance to the palisade first, reverse-walk to the entry point and then shall leave the piazza after bend-bowing it. Due to such die- hard observance, we used to call them, t he ‘yama rules’ (rules of the death-god)

Sukumaran master would   first of all scrutinize the debutant in detail. He won’t accept those coming with the hidden motive of flexing their muscles at others. Once a young fellow from a well to do family approached him. From his mien the master smelt a bully. The master asked him to come the next day. When he promptly turned up the following day, he was asked to count the exact number of rice in a given measure of the cereal. It was the master’s instruction, so the aspirant patiently obeyed. Once he finished the job, the master asked him to come again the next day. This time the head count was on gingelly seeds. The young fellow got irritated, ’’ I’m here to learn the martial art. To count rice and seeds, I shall send my maid.’’ The master said calmly, ‘’ patience is the primary requisite for a martial artist. You have proved for yourself that you lack it.’’ It was Thalasseri Sukumaran Master’s lesson no.1:  The combatant needs down to earth patience. For, you learn not to offend but to defend.

With Sukumaran master‘s departure there was a lull in Mannanam with regard to ‘martiality.’ The fever was back again with the release of Bruce Lee’s action movie, Enter the Dragon. Youngsters felt they too were Bruce Lees brimming with power within and to bring it out was all that was left to do. Karate dojos and Kung-Fu schools sprang up in no time. Breaking bricks with head, smashing a pile of tiles with bare- arms…New masters and their disciples were on a campaign- like spree, as if to prove something. In this physically charged scenario, Soman of Kalampattu had a crush—to become a combatant. He already had a V-shaped body, which he was proud of. The new craze would prop up only when he was on vacation from Thevara college, where he did his masters in commerce. His father was a senior officer with the public works department. He brought an acquaintance of his from Perur, a master of physical feats, to Mannanam. Soman was happy. But a small hitch—the training class needed at least four to five students.  Soman persuaded me. Though by nature I was reluctant to go physical, I agreed for his sake. Thus Soman learnt the trade. And I watched it. To tell you the truth, what was seen was damn excellent. It was then that I realised martial art was not just a physical feat, but an art and a science in itself. Kerala’s martial art is a radiance of the land, shaped up by the dedication of generations of masters considering it as a penance. It is said that Bodhidharman, a south Indian ascetic, had taught kalarippayattu to the Buddhist monks of ancient China which they improved upon. Whatever it may be, that which sets kalarippayattu apart is its holistic nature. It has in it exercise patterns, self-defense techniques and beautiful visual art. The student attains finesse and dexterity of hands and body as the training gradually covers various stages of physical tuning, weapons usage and bare-hand techniques.

Kalarippayattu and arms training were once part of the routine pulse of Kerala’s rural life. It has its roots in myth and history alike. Legend has it that Parasurama, after creating the land of Kerala, instituted the first batch of kalaries.—1008 to be precise. He empowered 3600 brahmins with arms as well. The kalari steps have a divine heritage, the myth goes on. They were the footsteps of an enraged Lord Shiva, when he was dishonoured during Daksha yaga.  Parasurama taught 21 of his disciples these steps.

Historians have a different narrative. There was a 100-years war between the Cheras and the Cholas in the 12th century CE. Kalaries were established in this backdrop of a prolonging war and its pragmatic requirements. By and large, they had been associated with either the Kaali temples or noble households. The chief trainer or master was titled Gurukkal or Kurup.  The whole exercise centres on 18 techniques viz othiram, katakam, chatulam, mandalam, vruthachakram, sungolam, vijayam, viswamahanam, thiryangmandalam, gadaakhetagahwaram, shathrunjayam, subhadram, patalam, parajayam, kaayavrudhi, shilaakhandam, gadaashasthram and anuthamam. There had been stylistic differences in the kalari system like vettukalari, payattukalari, ottakkalari, chaattakkalari, parakkalari etc.  One interesting technique in these streams is verum-kai (bare hand), that teaches you to over -power an armed enemy bare-handed. I remember some experts from the Indo-Tibetan Border Police teaching us this method in their own style, during my IAS training tenure. What stuck to my mind were just their swift moves and loud noises.  I still believe that the best way to escape from an armed enemy is to reverse your car at the earliest.

If you take kalarippayattu as one for terrestrial battles alone, you are mistaken. Techniques required for sea battles had also been taught in kalaries. Chembakasseri kingdom was famous for its naval kalaries and Chembil arayas, the acclaimed experts in this form of warfare. To train in these schools, one was supposed to know the sea well. Waking up at the last quarter of night, the aspirants had to stay sank in water for long, swim for lengthy periods and stay afloat without food, withstanding hunger. Being celibate was   must. Once selected to the special marine troupe, they would be trained to deal with sea pirates and to take lead in water battles.

The vadakkan pattu (northern ballads) made kalarippayattu a legend. Thacholi Othenan and Aaromal Chekavar became heroes in the popular psyche like the Spanish matadors. But we should understand one thing. There was no cake walk to stardom here. If anyone became a hero of the masses, it was the culmination of industriousness, dedication and gripping passion. There is no such thing as instant kalari. In the Zen Buddhism, the master teaches certain things for a while, without explaining their cause and effect relationship. As the process gets prolonged, many would drop out, leaving only the patient ones to the class. Then the master will teach the remaining few, deeply and extensively.  Ditto with kalarippayattu as well.

There are two schools of kalarippayattu—vadakkan (northern) and thekkan (southern)—with no basic differences, but varying styles that become evident in the details. And a cross-breed of the two called the madhyasambradaya (median way) too is around. Depending on the mental attributes of various masters, variations in the details do happen. Hence we have sub systems sprouting from the main like the Kadathanadan, the Kozhikkodan, the Chaavakkadan, the Valluvanadan, the Malanadan and the Dronampalli which was choreographed by the Dronampally household who had been the teachers of the Chempakasseri kings. Each style has its own independent character. Still, all of them have one thing in common—the ability to swing up and march ahead, fighting sinks down. Masters of all ilks emphasise on the exercises   to make muscles strong enough to enable these moves,   concentration to sustain the stare, penance-like practice ensuring guts and the ability for lightning reflexes of all the body parts. Needless to say, one can attain these attributes only with nagging   perseverance.

From katchakettu (dressing up) to angamvettu (combat), each stage of kalarippayattu demands extreme concentration. The martial artist begins his day with field exercises. The items for breath control itself constitute a long list. Kaseru vikasanam (spine expansion), kaseru sankocham (spine contraction), oordhwa hastha shwasanakriya (breathing with raised hands)… the menu goes on. Tactical steps (adavu) constitute the basis of this martial art. From body combat up to the fight by standing on the hands, the training is long and complicated. The fighter should be able to move each part of his body swiftly with ease. Take the training for legs alone. Nerkaal, peethakkaal, iruthikkaal, akamkaal, puramkaal, pakarchakkaal… the ordeal extends.  All the steps are taken in strict consonance with their respective vocal counts.

And now to the combat patterns: Vadivukal( bends), Chuvadukal(steps), cheruvati (cudgel), ottappayattu(solo combat), katarappayattu(dagger combat), vaalppayattu(sword combat), kuntham(spear), urumi (damascene blade), verum kai(bear hand), kathiyum thadayum(knife & block), kottuvidya(nod tricks), kampum kayyum(stick&hand), kampati( combating others armed with stick), parathallu(flying combat), ponthippayattu(hopping fight), churikappayattu (combat with double-edged sword), kaikuthi payattu(combat by staying on hands).Dispelling the fear of impossibility by exploring the possible to the ultimate maximum. That is kalarippayattu for you.

The kalari master’s responsibility never ends with teaching and coaching. He has to deal with the various injuries, bruises, sprains, bone- breaks etc common during training sessions. Thus, treatment of marma (vital nodes in the body) becomes an official division of kalarippayattu. Medicine along with manthra is the custom. The latter may not have any scientific basis. But, for those engaging in do or die battles, couldn’t it be considered   a morale booster—sort of a psycho tonic?

The kalari performances I could witness during my childhood engraved in mind, heroic images of this martial art and its performers. Besides, the life-story of Thacholi Othenan was there in the middle school level as a supplementary study material. The narrative style of the text as well as the teacher (Chacko sir) was just apt to enshrine the valiant epic figure in young minds. Chacko sir had an uncanny knack of portraying Thacholi Manikkoth Othenan who lived in Meppayil near Vadakara 400 years ago, as some heroic personality living in the nearby moffusil. A  master par excellence of all the 18 combat tactics ,this black pearl of erstwhile Kadathanad  had  won 64  combats before  turning  just 32. His fame and glory climbed up above equally good contemporaries like Chindan Nambiar, Punnora Kelappan and Puramala Nambi Kurup when he defeated the indomitable Kathiroor Gurukkal. Matching step to step and ploy to ploy, as the combat seemed to produce no particular winner, Othenan finally outsmarted the Gurukkal with the ultimate technique  —the poozhikkadakan. By kicking up sand and creating a sand storm in the combat arena, the participants have to wage the combat almost blindfolded. Needless to say, it is more than a do or die situation, with no one knowing what exactly to ‘do’. That’s why they say you need a thousand hands and as much eyes to block it. Othenan had picked up this fatal art from his cousin Payyampalli Chanthu. Although he won the combat, on way back home he was treacherously shot dead by Mayinkutty, a mercenary.

I happened to be the one-man committee instituted by the government of Kerala to restructure the district tourism promotion councils. As part of this endeavour, I visited Othenan’s memorial in Vadakara with the thrilling urge provided by all the pulsating stories and my earlier exposure to the indigenous martial art. To my utter dismay, the memorial turned out to be a miserable sight. Not a single piece of his armory or memorabilia could be seen. All that remained was the family grove—Lokanarkaavu– which was made famous by his epic story and the stone images of the deities he had worshipped. A few yards away mutely stood, in the name of a memorial, a little house or a dilapidated portion of it. A pathetic memento indeed to the memory, the memorized and those coming to renew the memory alike.

The decline of kalari system began with the colonial rulers. The British Raj made arms handling by the natives unlawful, in order to weaken the armies of local principalities. Thus kalaries became irrelevant. Most of them faded away. The temples associated with them remained. Some were turned into temples. The kalari-turned- temples can be seen even today, the Panthalayani temple being the famous one.

The demise of a great tradition of martial art and its science definitely leaves room for much despair. In an age of instant  fulfillments , qualities like poignant passion, unbridled devotion and nagging  patience to master  anything, leave alone one’s body  seem  far- fetched. Still, a Dhara Singh or a Bruce Lee may drop in, one hopes, tempting the new-gen to wake up from their cozy sloth. Till then, let me do some muscle flexing in nostalgia.