Elephants conjure up a scene of majestic bejeweled trundlers graciously swaying from side to side while u watch the splendid view of the Rajasthan desert ensconced in a cozy howdah. Well, I haven’t inherited a kingdom to do that.
My memory recollects a completely inebriated pachyderm loudly mooing at raakshasa vaadam while I am clutching desperately at anything I can find for support with one hand, the other hand reserved for upholding my dignity keeping in place the only garment covering me, a translucent mundu(dhoti). How in the world did I end up here?
In other words, how do u climb a bare backed elephant in a mundu, a feat which even superman dare not try? Well, this is one thing which cannot be taught across a double firewall using a HTML page as equipment. Well, first the mahout alternately tries to cajole and threatens the elephant to bend its hind legs.
Finally, giving up hope, he bribes it with rice liquor producing the necessary effect but with unknown future consequences. Then u grasp the elephant’s swishing tail in the gap between ur big toe and small toes. Obviously, u should not disturb the elephant. Then u lunge upward trying to catch its shin with ur fingers. While doing this, u also give a nasty jerk on the poor animal’s tail (which is still stuck between ur toes). The elephant, quite used to this, takes it as a signal to get up. What u don’t realize is that the only way of avoiding getting trampled under its legs now is - to take leave of its shin, putting all ur hopes on balancing both ur feet on its tail.
From now on ur entirely on ur own, with no coaching manual to help u. By the way, remember that u r wearing only a mundu with no belt. So, using this time to get a breather, verify if u still possess some shred of dignity. Finally, u r comfortably splayed on ur stomach on the elephant’s top, trying to find a crevice on its smooth skin with all ur limbs. U breath a sigh of relief and feel a sense of achievement; and what do u see? tiny village tots gaily prancing about on top of the elephant.
Finally wisdom dawns ----- atleast be thankful that the green elephant dropping on ur hands does not stink.
OK, now I put full fundaes. The setting is Periya Theravu, Nurani village, Palakkad District, Kerala, India. Periya=big, Theravu=road. It is the biggest road in all of Kerala, about as wide as an elephant (no- not the original one-the Qualis bought on Gulf money). The occasion-the annual Shaasthapreethi festival, held usually in late December-early January in Nurani. During this time the weather is dazzlingly bright and clear. You wake up daily at the break of dawn to the dual smell of melting dew and freshly burning wood incense smoke.
Shaasthapreethi is punctuated by a week long gaiety, fun and frolic like all other village festivals, culminating in a grand climax with fireworks and dances. The night preceding the final day is devoted to a marathon carnatic katcheri, orchestrated by prominent musicians for free and often lasting upto the wee hours of the day. The next morning yields to the less trained, but more boisterous vocal chords of the local youths (both old and young, it is the heart that is youthful). Accompanied by an idol of Ganesha (who else) in front and three languid elephants behind, they give a full throated rendition of hymns and devotional songs (watched closely by demure young girls decked up in their finery). By the way the proceedings are pretty dull if u dont understand the https://lyrics.
The procession starts from the temple goes around the whole village (not much to go around, by the way) and ends up back at the temple so that everybody can have a hearty meal there (Well almost everybody. Shudras still not allowed inside the sanctum sanctorium. They will have to be satisfied with a meal outside). It is said that it is forbidden for any family in the nearby villages to cook on that day. All this is only a prelude to the climax during which the incidents mentioned in the above paragraphs happen.
Some clarifications are obviously required. Rakshasa vaadam is our answer to hard rock. It traditionally consists of a band with five instruments-three percussion, one pair of metal clangors and a nadaswaram. The number of musicians is usually multiples of five. This type of music is a complete contrast to the classical carnatic music played on the previous night- the latter is supposed to appease the gods (devar= gods vaadam=play(n)) while the music today is supposed to bring the devils out of their hiding (which gives you the meaning of rakshasa). In our tolerant and all inclusive culture, it is important to appease the devils too.
True to the occasion, the performers are goaded by the enthusiastic audience who set the tempo, rigorously maintaining the talam through vigorous hand gesturing, driving them to a climatic religious frenzy (induced partly by alcohol?) after which they collapse from exhaustion. The climax is attained when both the pachyderms and the nadaswaram raise their trumpets(?) and bring the skies down.