HEART(Y)BEATS

The heat in April and May is intense, but even stronger is the fervor of festivals in Kerala during this season. And they are never complete without the pulsating beats of percussion.

- APARNA NAIR

Instruments such as the chenda, thimila, madhalam, idakka, ilathalam, kuzhal, and kombu come together to create a rhythmic intensity that is intoxicating. Despite a generation more exposed to Western and now Oriental influences, when percussion takes center stage at Kerala's festivals, everything else takes a backseat.

"I have been to a lot of EDM and rave parties. None gives an exhilaration like our melam (percussion ensemble)," says Vinod Ambady, a wildlife explorer. "I left the corporate world to take sanctuary in the woods. The only thing that still draws me back to city life are grand melams. After a point, they become addictive — even the noise made by ceiling fans will sound rhythmic."

Management professional Bijeesh S also gushes as he speaks about melam. "It's a fiesta. And yet, people go searching for rhythm elsewhere," he says.

"It's not just the beats — it's the entire atmosphere that captivates me. I go hyphy as the percussion crescendo peaks. Even my 10-year-old son now joins me in my pooram outings."

This excitement spills onto social media, too, where numerous groups celebrate Kerala's percussion traditions — Panchari melam, Pandi melam, Shinkari melam, Panchavadyam, Thayambaka, etc.

Online groups keep enthusiasts updated on festival schedules and the leading performers. "There are also WhatsApp groups where fans organize regular sessions to revel in the beats," says Udayan Namboothiri, a popular Thayambaka artist.

The history of melam can be traced back to the 15th century. "Before that, they were primarily part of temple rituals," says Manoj Kuroor, a writer and researcher in Kerala's ritual art history.