Chakyaar Chants !!!

W hen she arrives, the smell of raw earth streams into my olfactory senses. Whenever  that enticing aroma fills my room, I push back my chair and leap out to catch the wonderful sight of sky. She would have conquered the sky and fenced it with her robes. The robes she wears fluttering all around the sky, even denying sun to peek into the land. She dove into the land awakening the soul within. The soul of the land revelled itself in the return of its soulmate. She ran unclothed snaking across bushes, trees, roads and soil. Small streamlets and our fields brimmed with water. !! Welcome to monsoon Kerala !! Every year monsoon arrived in the midst of our vacation. May end. Thanks to KVS (Kendriya Vidyalaya Sangathan), whenever I got holidays my friends in our place went to schools and vice versa. Change of seasons also changed the game we played. The flooded fields won’t allow ball to bounce , hence eroding our cricket pitch. Thus it was the time of football. Slipping and skim

Sitting in my hostel room , a couple of thousands of kilometres from my home, I always envy my friends who stay in kerala. Locked up in the name of privileged higher education and denied the right to feel the soul of a land lush with monsoon, trees and serenity. Well they say, you have to live it up. Whenever I ponder over  this fate of mine, my beautiful childhood  flashbacks in my mind. It was not just the wonderful days at my most loved KV NAD, but my childhood streaming across a handful of seasons. Those seasons that painted heavens in our playgrounds, school vans and open fields.  Those seasons that filled our air with laughter, joy and fragrance of innocence. Seasons that breezed through grassy fields, monsoon streams , classroom window panes and roof tiles.  Lungi clad footballers  Early 2000s were the times when globalization redrew the landscapes of Indian cities. It was the times when outskirt villages where swallowed into the city. Well, I never knew what was glob

Well you people may be wondering what is Chakyaar . And why does it chants? What does it have to do with a blog? Chakyaar in his attire Chakyaar Koothu is an ancient and traditional satirical art form of  Kerala. Unlike ‘Kathakali’ and ‘Mohiniyattam’ , Chakyaar Koothu was not an art form of learned and sanskritic pundits. It was performed in common man’s language. And the artist was called Chakyaar. During the play, Chakyaar could make fun of anyone in the audience cutting across class and caste barriers. There were lot of instances when chakyaar used his humour to expose the king of his own mistakes. Chakyaar was the only one who could remind the king. But his freedom was beneath the cosmetics and make ups. Only when the drums played the music to the art.The freedom was only on the stage. Without these makeups and decorations, he was a common man facing the tyranny of the king. Here Iam the Chakyaar . I chant. I have the freedom to speak out. But outside this stage