A regal revolt

The Palace for Ayurveda originated in a royal lady's protest.

By the closing years of the 19th century, the old kingdom of Vengunad (part of central Kerala's Malabar region) had become a loose affiliation, ruled by quarrelling chieftans. they were all joined by blood, separated by discontent and had vastly varying degrees of loyalty to the British East India company.

The pleasant little town of Kollengode, in the Annamalai foothills, had by now it's own Raja (King) who held title to the crescent of fertile farmlands beyond. By all accounts, he had a wasteful and arrogant temperament.

When his niece, Dhatri, at age 20, become the senior lady of Kollengode, she wanted what most people of that age want. A little space. And so, Kalari Kovilakom was born, as a reaction to her uncle's tyranny. Here was a place of seclusion and serene vistas, where the daughters of the family could grow, away from the whims and vagaries of kings.

The palace (or 'kovilakom') that Dhatri built came to be known as 'Kalari', because it was built on a site that contained a ritual space for 'Kalari Payattu', Kerala's ancient martial art,

The Princess Dhatri in her later years,
looking as determined as ever.

 

Lamps cast an inviting glow over a summer
evening's chanting session. Classical dance and music performances are even now a regular feature at Kalari.

 

 

Halcyon Days

Kalari was to become a stately home with a difference, full of lamplight, clatter and laughter. In its heyday, it took an army of storekeepers, cooks, valets, gardeners, footmen and maids to keep its kitchens bubbling, its wooden pillars gleaming and its arms wide in welcome.

Kalari played host to the leading artists, musicians, dancers and philosophers of the day. Kathakali dance and Carnatic music were inseparable from life here, for the young of the family were all encouraged to take up at least one art form.

Thr Raj comes calling: a scene from the
Kalari Kovilakom of the mid '30s.

This formal garden of yore has given way
to ayurvedic herbal beds.

 

Shaktan the guardian

Old timers still tell of stories they heard from their own grandfathers on stormy nights. Tales of a time when the legendary ancestral spirit of Kalari Kovilakom strode through its corridors, lamp in hand, to reassure himself that all was well within its walls.

It's been many moons since anyone has heard the clack- clack of Shaktan Thamburan's wooden sandals echoing on the flagstones. But those who love an old-fashioned ghost story can even now see an image of the old king, watching over his people from his little niche in the central courtyard. On new moon days, the tiny image is still given a ritual bath with an offering of flowers.

 


This tiny figurine still stands in vigil over
the timeless world of Kollengode.

 

Elephants and Kings

Come January, Kalari Kovilakom plays host to the grand festival of Aaratu. Members of the erstwhile royal family gather to worship, feast and celebrate in a tradition that dates back to the '20s.
Every year, a priest from the traditional community of Namboodiri brahmins picks the astrological time most favourable to start the festival, using a complicarted system that involves the Kings birth stars. Then he conducts the formal pooja (worship) of the Devi, the mother goddess enshrined in Kalari's temple.

Royals, townsfolk and even tribals from the neighboring hills flock to the palace for this traditional devotion, where they are welcomed with gifts, sweets and flowers.
And always, standing in salutation are rows of Kerala's storied temple elephants.
These gaily-caparisoned animals, clad in the distinctive silk colours and traditional ornaments of the region, are an integral part of the festivities, which stretch late into the night.

Caparisoned elephants with gold headplates
at the Aratu festival.

 

 

Copyright, 2005, cgh earth