Rowing across continents(REAR WINDOW)

From a tender age itself, snake boats and vanchippattu (boat song) had been a craze amongst us.  I still remember the day when we went in batches to watch the Thazhathangadi boat race.  My batch was in a friend’s canoe. It had an out-board engine which was quite new to the people around.  Seeing their curiosity we roamed about, ignoring the tourney’s marked lanes and restrictions causing much embarrassment to the organizers. Eventually cops had to be called in to contain our mischief.  After a while the race began. All eyes were on the competing boats. But we were pondering over ways to attract attention.  All attempts failing, we resorted to a novel venture. i.e., to sway our canoe in tandem with the rhythm of the competing boats. That ploy clicked. Now all eyes were on us. People shouted at us to stop the dangerous game.  Who cares?  In due course of time, the game achieved its logical climax—the canoe sank, topsy-turvy. Cops and organizers jumped in and somehow rescued us all to the shore. More than the breath trouble and gulps it was the stare and curse of the crowd that was unbearable. Fortunately, an elderly relative took me home in his car, saving further blushes.

Later years, I could witness various types of boat races in different parts of the globe. The famous Oxford race is the one that ebbs in memory.  As is known, the Cambridge University was established by some ex-Oxon who dropped out. Thus begins the tussle to prove who the boss is.  It seems the fight is fiercest when it comes to rowing.  It all started in 1829, with Charles Merrivel and his friend Charles Wordsworth as the originators.  Today, it has become one of the biggest crowd pullers annually with thousands thronging to the Thames to directly watch the contest apart from the 10 million cued to the live telecast.

The 156th edition of the contest was on. Oxford was on a hat- trick, having won the previous two. As far as Cambridge was concerned, it became a question of prestige. Finally Cambridge won, thwarting Oxford’s hat-trick dream. Meanwhile, in a nearby pub on the Thames, a man on booze requested the bearer to remind him of the time when Oxford receives the trophy. The bearer told him that the winner was not Oxford, but Cambridge. A little later, the same fellow repeated the request and the bearer said it was not Oxford, but Cambridge.  Hearing the same request again after a while, the bearer got annoyed: “heck with you! Didn’t I tell you, the winner is Cambridge?’’  To which the man replied calmly, ‘’ sorry. I pressed on, just for the kick of hearing that the winner is Cambridge.’’  He was a member of the Cambridge team.

On a visit to China, I saw the dragon boats. Perhaps the dragon race is the oldest boat race in the world. This 2000-year old event has a significant history of an idealistic sacrifice behind it. Xu Yuan was a poet, warrior and a minister in ancient China.  Guess how he protested against the corruption prevalent in his society?  Simply by self-drowning in the Milo River!  Hearing the news of this sacrifice, villagers came to the spot in canoes.  Beating drums and splashing water, they tried to avoid his body from being devoured by evil spirits. And sprayed rice on the river so as to feed his spirit. It is believed that the dragon race was constituted in his honorable memory.  The boat has a dragon’s face at the prow and its tail at the other end.  In between, dragon fins would be pictured.  18 to 20 rowers shall be seated for the race, along with singers and rhythm beaters.  The dragon race in its present form was initiated in 1976 in Hong Kong as part of an attempt to project the city to the world. However, it soon broke all national barriers and has now become a zing thing across Europe, the Americas, Africa, Australia, New Zealand and the Caribbean Islands. If dragon races capture popular imagination, there is another one for the rich– the power boat race. Conducted in the deep sea, it is an expensive affair, obviously.  Introduced in Miami Nasso in 1956, it has its counterparts in the UK, Europe and the Arabian Gulf, now.

This is not to belittle Kerala’s unique brand of boat racing heritage. The Nehru trophy race in Alappuzha’s Punnamada backwaters leading from the front, this small state, graced with rivers and lagoons can rightfully boast of a water-sport culture.  Boat races are being held annually at Aranmula, Champakkulam, Kollam, Kumarakam, Thazhathangadi and Paippad. The list is inconclusive. And lo! A Nehru trophy race even in Bramton, Canada for that matter. (Organized by the Keralites living there.)

Each boat race in Kerala has some myths or legends associated with it. For instance, the Moolam boat race at Champakkulam. Pooradam Thirunal Devanarayanan of the erstwhile Chempakassery kingdom was constructing a temple devoted to Lord Krishna at Ambalappuzha. Just before the consecration of the deity it was noticed that the idol sculpted had certain imperfections. To keep the auspicious timing intact, the king decided to bring a perfect idol from Kurichi’s Karakulam temple. This one was believed to have been presented to Arjuna by the Lord himself. Accordingly, kings men acquiring the new idol, set off to Ambalappuzha by a snake boat. By night they reached Champakkulam where Mappilasseri Ittithomman, a local Christian baron offered himself as their liberal host. The King and his entourage came to Mappilasseri the next morning and took the idol to Ambalappuzha in a grand procession by the water-way. The priests and laity of the Kallurkkad church at Champakkulam too greeted the procession. Pleased with this rousing reception, the King decided to conduct a boat race on the Moolam day (of the Malayalam calendar) to commemorate the incident.  Since then–five centuries to be precise—the Moolam boat race of Champakkulam has enriched the cultural life of Kerala, effulging a unique wave of religious harmony

In elegance and grandeur snake boats reign supreme in the racing arena.  They are actually the descendents of Chempakasseri navy’s prime fighter boats.  With the hood-like prow  standing upright almost 20 ft  above water level and accommodating four men on the prow, 86 boatmen and  15-odd rhythm beaters  along the 100 ft  well-built  body,  needless to say, the snake boat is a in a class of its own. Another species is the Iruttukuthi.  Formerly used as spy vessels in wars, these boats would oar at dark swiftly defying the enemy’s vigil.  Veppu, yet another breed   served as the food- supplier to the fighters at war.

I visited Cambodia to see the famous Angkor Wat temple. It was November, the month of boat festival in Cambodia.  History tells us that this festival was instituted by King Jayavarman VII, in the 12th century CE, as a mark of gratitude to the water deities and to further seek their blessings. The festivities begin when Tonle Sap, the country’s chief river retracts its flow. Men and women would flock to Phnom Penh in canoes and boats. There will be colourful processions and racing contests, people singing and dancing all the way. At night, the river-chest will adorn illuminated canoes all over it, creating a mesmeric ambience. Amidst all this pomp and gaiety, the Cambodians never forget to pay tribute to the 350-odd people who lost their lives in this very festival in 2010. My host, Suresh Potty (nephew of the late Justice Subramanyam Potty) a young industrialist, still remembers the tragedy in shock.

Everything needs to have a cause or omen, whatever you wish to call.  During a special examination for merit scholarship while in the fourth standard, I was asked to write a piece on boat race.  It had to be in the form of a running commentary. As one who had not yet seen a boat race, I could not. Every other one is not Bernard Shaw, you know, to write reportage on parliamentary discussions without attending the House. That pain brought me to Thazhathangadi to get my first live experience, which turned out to be a debacle, as mentioned earlier. The first time I could view a race in toto was at Alappuzha, while I was the district collector of Kollam. Jose Cyriac was my counterpart in Alappuzha. I fondly call him achayan and in the same vein he calls me ichayan. Thus, achayan called ichayan for the boat race and ichayan obliged achayan.  After the event, I  had an idea– why  can’t we have  a  boat race in  Kollam where   the sprawling  Ashtamudi  lake calls ravishingly?  Before long, I could organise a water-fest as part of the Quilon Amity Celebrations that take place during the eve of new-year.  Kollam being a centre of fishing with localities like Neendakara, Mudaakkal, Vaadi and Pallithottam, I thought it appropriate to have a procession of fishing boats.  Later on, the organizers fashioned it on the lines of   the Nehru trophy race. Thus, we now have the President’s trophy boat race in Kollam.

From the chaotic beginning in Thazhathangadi, it has been a long sojourn through the Thames, Yangtze, Tonle Sap, and Punnamada down to Ashtamudi.  Each with its varied colour and character. But the Least Common Multiple as they say in math, the rhythm of rhythms, is a constant everywhere. For, the boat-song  of  Ramapurathu  Varrier  or the  chorus ballads to the Cambodian deities  are not just some old,  rustic lyrics; they  echo  the rhythm  of  deep human recesses , splashed open.