An eager crowd gathers as Veliyathunadu Junction, about 15km from the busy Kalamassery town, wakes up to a beautiful sunrise on Friday. Some trickle down the verdant fields, others round up at nearby tea stalls and grocery shops.
They are waiting to welcome their beloved Kadamban Moothan. One can sense his arrival from a distance. The atmosphere changes. A pleasant breeze sweeps through the rustic locale. Birds coo and chirp in chorus, and the orangish-red sun peeps from the horizon.
Kadamban Moothaan cheerfully calls out his arrival — to the soil, the plants, the farmlands, and the farmers.
The fictional agrarian deity comes dancing to the tune of folk songs, clad in full regalia made of dried grass, mats, sack pieces and a crown of straw. His face is painted green and golden yellow, evoking the lush paddy fields and flourishing farmlands.
As he ebulliently stomps the ground and the ecstatic crowd dances around him, the viewer is transported to the golden agrarian days we now read about only in storybooks.
The fictional deity, who is the central character of a street play, was conceived by the Organic Theatre from the hinterlands of Thiruvananthapuram. Founded by S N Sudheer, a thespian and former television producer, the collective aims to promote sustainable agriculture and remind us about the intricate relationship between humans and soil.
“We have been performing in several places, from Thiruvananthapuram to Idukki and more. This is our fourth performance in Kalamassery,” says Sudheer as he takes off the Moothan crown, panting after a spirited performance in the middle of a junction.
He explains that the title ‘Kadamban Moothan’ is derived from the idea of a motivational figure who inspires one to cross ‘kadambakal’ (hurdles). This is Moothan’s fourth visit to Kalamassery. He has now become a darling ‘force’ among the farmers here.
“Anyone can be the Moothan, anyone can don this crown and inspire generations to stand barefoot on this soil and enjoy the fruits of their toil. There are no religious, caste or gender barriers. One just has to be willing,” Sudheer smiles.
This year, Mani, a tribal woman from Thiruvananthapuram, is part of the play. She dons the dual roles of an elderly village woman and the palm reader in the play. She dances through all the musical portions, and is thrilled to see a big audience on a busy weekday morning.
“I come from Amboori, a tribal hamlet in the Agasthyakoodam valley,” she says, obliging selfie requests from the crowd.
Besides Moothan and the roles played by Mani, there is a farmer-father, his singer-daughter, and a villain named Idamthalan in the play. The story revolves around how the greedy Idamthalan machinates to uproot the farmer family from the soil. Then, Moothan comes to the rescue, vanquishing evil.
“Idamthalan is all around us and inside us. It’s that part of our mind that makes us greedy, forget our roots,” says Sanatha, who plays the daughter’s character.
The performances were thoroughly professional. They are unfazed by the incessant honking of vehicles on the busy street and perform with conviction. They underscore the need to respect the land, love the soil and remind everyone that we are all, at the end of the day, Mother Earth’s offspring.
This year, Moothan & Co. has a tale of caution for Veliyathunadu, now known for flourishing mushroom farming along with traditional elephant yam, paddy, tapioca, spinach and snap melon (pottu vellari).
“We seek to remind people not to lose sight of the goal while chasing profit and fame,” says Vijayan M P, the coordinator of Krishikkoppam Kalamassery.
“The goal is a self-reliant and self-sufficient Kalamassery, where we produce all the vegetables we need ourselves, and always remain pro-agriculture.”
As the one-hour drama reaches its thrilling climax, with village leaders and elders dancing to folk tunes alongside the characters, Moothan prepares to leave for the nearby village of Kunnukara. The venue is the Thenthuruthi Kavu temple, a serene space by a plantain farm.
Here, too, people await eagerly. This time, Moothan carries a bunch of plantains on his shoulder and a cluster of pagoda flowers (Krishna kireedam flower) in his palm, calling out to the villagers to rejoice in their success while resisting greedful temptations.
They sing, share stories, and dance. To the hope that as cities flourish, so will our farmlands, and our profound relationship with the earth.
