Every Saturday and Sunday, the villagers of Kazhakunnu, a picturesque hamlet near Chullimanoor, Nedumangad, wake up to the sonorous beats of a dozen or more chendas. Not that they mind. After all, it’s their daughters and other young women from the locality and nearby villages, who are practising for an upcoming ‘shinkarimelam’ performance, with single-minded dedication.
These sprightly young women, many of them in their late teens, are members of Gurukripa Nadan Kalakendram, one of the top shinkarimelam and chendamelam troupes in the district. And what a sight the troupe is to behold as they practise their new routine, effortlessly dancing, twirling and even jumping (gasp!), in tandem to the beats, all the while carrying the percussion instrument on their slight, lithe selves.
“The chendas weigh about 15 kg. The trick is to anchor the instrument on the knee, either the left or the right one, which makes it easier to move around,” says Sharanya Chandran, one of the ‘veterans’ in the troupe – at 22 years of age! “I have been learning the chenda for 10 years now. I am also a masters’ student of Malayalam. Playing chendamelam/ shinkarimelam is fun and a good way to earn some money while studying,” she says. Girishma Babu, 21, a B.Ed student at Iqbal College, Peringamala, adds: “Actually, all of us are school and college students and have been learning the chenda at Gurukripa since childhood. For example, Aswathy, Sreekutty and Akshaya here, are all SSLC students, and have been with us for around four years now. Thanks to being part of the troupe we have had the opportunity to travel across Kerala and several cities across the country, which we otherwise could not have. We enjoy showcasing to the world this exciting, lively folk art form, which has suddenly become a fad.”
Gurukripa, founded in 1997 by Banu Asan, a pioneer of Travancore folklore, ‘with the intention of reviving folklore arts which are going extinct,’ trains over 200 youngsters from economically backward homes in folk art forms such as chendamelam, Charadupinnikali, Kolattakali, Thiruvathirakali, and so on. The academy was one of the first in Kerala to form a chendamelam troupe for girls and in 2005 established an all-women shinkarimelam troupe, again one of the first to do so. Banu Asan, who is now 93, has passed on the leadership of the troupe to his two daughters Prabhala and Pralekha. Nonetheless, the frail guru can’t resist picking up the kolus (sticks) and giving a chenda that’s propped up nearby, a couple of quick beats – much to the delight of the youngsters.
“Even now Asan is the one who initiates new students to the chenda,” says Pralekha.
“It’s the temple festival season and our tour diary is usually packed. This time, however, we have a few members of the troupe who are sitting for their SSLC exams, so we have had cut down on performances to accommodate them. We give a lot of importance to the academic activities of our students. Their elders, past and present members of the troupe, often pitch in to help the youngsters with their studies,” adds the 50-year-old Prabhala, who is affectionately called ‘teacher’ by one and all. “We play chenda melam inside the temple premises and shinkarimelam, which is drum play infused with dance, outside, on the ultsava parambu [festival ground] and for processions, inaugurations et. al. What makes our troupe stand out is that each youngster is taught to play the musical instrument academically, beginning with practising on a block of wood before progressing to the actual chenda, until they are well-versed in various kottus for melams and all the kaalams (tempo of the rhythm). Most of the other troupes play shinkarimelam after learning just a few beats,” she adds.
The women of Gurukripa are also well-versed in the folk art form of Charadupinnikali, which is based on the legend of the young Sree Krishna’s love for butter and his attempts to steal it, aided by his beloved Gopis.
“It’s usually performed by 12 dancers and one dressed as Krishna, while holding onto long, thick ropes hung from the ceiling at the place of the performance. As the dance progresses, the ropes assume the rough form of uri (pot) and it comes to a close when the uri is undone,” explains Prabhala. Girishma, one of the main Charadupinnikali gopis, adds: “It’s an art form that needs utmost concentration on the part of the dancers, moving to the exact beat of the song in the background. One misstep and the ropes can get knotted in such a way that it can be fatal to the person playing the role of Krishna. Also, if that happens and you cannot easily unknot it, you would have to cut the rope,” she explains, quickly demonstrating the moves using a set of practise ropes that hang from the institution’s training room.
The group also stage Kakkarissi Natakam. “Like many folk art forms these days both Charadupinnikali and Kakkarissi Natakam don’t get too many stages. But we as a troupe are determined to do our best to keep these art forms alive. These young women, many of whom have saved enough to fund their own weddings and that of their siblings, are proof enough that practising the art forms is financially viable too,” says Prabhala.
Drum roll, please!
MAN POWER
Although Gurukripa is first and foremost a women’s troupe, there are a number of men too on the rolls; again all of them students or young professionals such as Prabhala’s two sons, Ranjith and Prasood, Sharath, Sharanya’s brother, Vishnu, who works in IT, Vyshakh, a mechanical engineer, Vinayan, an interior designer… “Most organisers, when they book programmes, ask for male artistes too. Anyways, we always take a few of them along; they come in handy for heavy lifting!” says Prabhala. And for protection too…? “That too, but not necessarily. A good thwack with the kolu is enough to keep most of the unwanted spectators from getting too friendly…,” chips in Sharanya, with a grin.
