‘The puppet's shadows reflect our struggles’

As a child, Rajitha would peep in through the windows and watch her father and grandfather train young boys, wondering why she could not join them. The puppets, in particular, caught the young girl’s eyes, and her ears were fond of the peculiar rhythm of the verses.

“My grandfather noticed my fascination with puppetry,” says the 33-year-old Rajitha, “and offered to teach me the verses.”

Rajitha Pulavar is sitting on a wooden bench in her family’s studio in Shornaur, carving facial features on a tholpavakoothu puppet. On a desk in front of her are various iron instruments such as awls, chisels and hammers.

It is noon and there is a lull in the studio. The only sound comes from the fan whirring next to Rajitha in the shed where the puppets are made. Outside, on an open terrace, sheets of leather have been left to cure in the heat before they can be carved into puppets.

“These are puppets for the shows we have on modern themes,” says Rajitha, pointing to the one she is working on. Tholpavakoothu puppetry is a traditional art form from India’s Malabar coast originally performed in temple premises during the annual festival of goddess Bhadrakali.

Rajitha’s grandfather, Krishnankutty Pulavar, played an important role in modernising the art. He took it beyond the space of the temples and expanded the content to stories beyond the Ramayana , which was its original source. (Read: Kerala’s puppeteers extend their art ).

His granddaughter has followed in his footsteps, and is the first woman performer to join the puppetry troupe. She also set up an all-women troupe of her own in 2021, a first in tholpavakoothu puppetry.

The journey to here has been a long one.

Mastering the rhythmic verses was challenging because they were in Tamil, a language that the Malayalam-speaking Rajitha did not know. But her father and grandfather were patient with her while she grasped the details of meaning and pronunciation: “My grandfather began by teaching the Tamil alphabet and slowly introduced the verses.”

“He selected verses which were very interesting to us children,” Rajitha continues. The first verse she learnt from her grandfather was a scene from the Ramayana where Hanuman challenges Raavana:

The boys in the family enthusiastically welcomed her, and in particular, her brother Rajeev was very encouraging, Rajitha says. “he motivated me to start an all-women troupe.”

Performing in temples was (and largely continues to be) out of bounds for women, so when she was ready, Rajitha started working with her family troupe for the contemporary stage. But in the beginning, she preferred to remain behind the scenes.

“I delivered the lines for female characters like Sita [in modern adaptations of the Ramayana ], but I did not have the confidence to manipulate the puppets or address the audience,” she says. But taking part in her father’s workshops for children helped her build confidence. “During the workshop, I had to interact with many people. I felt more confident about facing a crowd.”

Rajitha also mastered the craft of making puppets. “I started by crafting puppets on paper. My parents and my brother were my teachers,” she says.  “I slowly learnt how to draw patterns on leather and add colours that bring the puppets to life.” While the Ramayana puppets have exaggerated facial features, the puppets for contemporary shows are more realistic. “Even the costumes change based on the age of the woman – if she is elderly, the puppet is dressed in a saree, if she is young, she might wear a top and jeans,” Rajitha explains.

It wasn’t just the men in the family that supported and encouraged Rajitha. The first stepping stone for removing the gender divide in tholpavakoothu was set in place years before Rajitha joined her grandfather’s class by her mother Rajalakshmi.

After marrying Ramachandra, Rajitha’s father, in 1986, Rajalakshmi started assisting the puppeteers in the family by helping them make the puppets. However, she never got a chance to take part in a recital or performance. “When I see Rajitha's journey, I feel fulfilled. She has achieved what I couldn’t when I was young,” says Rajalakshmi.

One of the first things that Rajitha did after she decided to make her own team, Pen Pavakoothu, was to extend the invitation to her mother and her sister-in-law, Aswathi.

Aswathi was initially uninterested in the art and never imagined she’d become a puppeteer. After marrying into a puppeteer family, she says, “I began to appreciate this art form.” But ritualistic puppetry is slow and the recital barely has any puppet manipulation, so she wasn’t interested in learning the process. But watching the contemporary puppetry performances by her husband Rajeev and his team piqued her interest and she joined Rajitha’s team to learn the art.

Over the years, Ramachandra had also involved more women in his troupe and this inspired Rajitha to form an all-women puppetry group by inviting girls from neighbouring houses to join. The first team had eight members – Nivedita, Nithya, Sandhya, Sreenandha, Deepa, Rajalaskhmi and Aswathi.

“We started training sessions under my father’s guidance. Since most of these girls were in school, we scheduled training sessions during their holidays or free time. Although traditions dictate that women can’t perform puppetry, the families were very supportive,” Rajitha says.

In the course of performing together, the women and girls have developed a close bond. “We are like a family,” Rajitha says and adds, “we celebrate birthdays and other family functions together.”

Their first performance took place on December 25, 2021. “We worked hard and spent a lot of time preparing,” says Rajitha. This was the first time an all-female group was going to perform tholpavakoothu puppetry. The venue was an auditorium in Palakkad where the event was taking place under the ‘Samam’ programme of the Kerala government.

Even in winter, the heat from the oil lamps made it tough for the performers. “Some of us got blisters,” says Rajitha, “it was very hot behind the screen.” But they all felt a sense of determination, she says, “and the show turned out to be a success.”

The Samam programme, which means ‘equal’ in Malayalam, provides a platform for aspiring female artists and is organised by the Women and Child Care Department of Palakkad. The performance of Rajitha’s troupe highlighted the women’s struggles in education, employment, and family life while also exploring ways to strengthen their rights.

“We use our art to fight this inequality. The shadows reflect our struggles,” Rajitha says. “We would like to explore new ideas and themes, particularly in addressing socially relevant issues. We would also like to present a Ramayana narrative from the viewpoint of women.”

After establishing her own troupe, Rajitha started learning skills beyond puppet manipulation. She has orchestrated entire performances – working on scripts, recording the voices and music, puppet-making, manipulation and training the team members. “For every performance, we had to prepare a lot. For instance, for the performance on the topic of women empowerment, I went to the Women and Child Welfare department to collect data on schemes and opportunities available for women. Then, I outsourced the script and music. Once the recording was done, we started making the puppets and rehearsing the manipulation. Here, every team member has the freedom to contribute, shape the puppets and work on stage movements.”

Their performances have grown from just one show to more than 40 and their troupe, now 15-members strong, closely collaborates with their parent organisation, Krishnankutty Memorial Tholpavakoothu Kalakendram. In 2020, Rajitha was presented with the Yuva Prathibha Award by the Kerala Folklore Academy.

When they started out, the all-women team was not paid the same amount as their male counterparts, Rajitha says. But slowly, things have changed. “Many organisations, especially government ones, are treating us equally and paying the same wages they would to male artists,” she adds.

Another significant step was receiving an invitation to perform in a temple. “Even though it is not a ritualistic performance, we are happy that a temple has invited us,” Rajitha says. She is now learning the verses of the Kamba Ramayana, the Tamil version of the epic recited in ritualistic Tholpavakoothu , which she will then teach the other members of the troupe. And she is hopeful about the future. “I am very sure that there will be an era where women puppeteers recite the verses of the Kamba Ramayana inside the sacred temple groves, and I am equipping the girls for the same.”

This story is supported by a fellowship from Mrinalini Mukherjee Foundation (MMF).