Kerala Folklore

The Divine Feminine in the Ritual Shadow: A Feminist and Sociological Inquiry into Kerala’s Theyyam

The ritual landscape of North Malabar, specifically the historical region of Kolathunadu, is defined by the thunderous echoes of the Chenda and the vibrant, crimson manifestations of the living gods. Theyyam, an ancient ritualistic performance, represents an ontological bridge between the mundane and the celestial, where the human body becomes a vessel for the divine.¹ Derived from the Sanskrit Daivam, the term "Theyyam" refers to both the deity and the act of performance itself, a tradition that has survived for over a millennium as a repository of folk history, ancestral memory, and social resistance.³ While the art form is predominantly performed by men from historically marginalized communities—such as the Vannan, Malayan, Pulayan, and Velan—it contains a profound and complex representation of the feminine divine.⁵ These female-centric Theyyams, often categorized as Amma Daivangal (Mother Goddesses), are frequently rooted in visceral narratives of social injustice, gender-based violence, and the ultimate transformation of the female victim into an immortal protector.⁷

The feminine in Theyyam is not a monolithic entity; it is a spectrum of power ranging from the fierce, blood-sacrificed Chamundi to the gentle, scholarly Muchilottu Bhagavathy.⁹ However, a feminist inquiry into this ritual space reveals a stark paradox: the celebration of female power is largely mediated through the male body, and the stories of these goddesses are almost universally born from the trauma of patriarchal betrayal.¹¹ By examining the legends of Kadavankottu Makkam, Muchilottu Bhagavathy, and the rare exception of Devakoothu, this report illuminates how Theyyam functions as a subaltern archive that preserves the "war cry" of women who were silenced in life but found a voice in the ritual fire.¹¹

The Socioreligious Architecture of Theyyam

Theyyam is fundamentally a product of the complex interplay between tribal traditions, Dravidian nature worship, and later Brahmanical influences.² Unlike the transcendental deities of the Vedic tradition, Theyyam deities are immanent; they are "Little Gods" who reside in Kavus (sacred groves) and ancestral homes rather than grand stone temples.⁴ This immanence allows for a direct, personal connection between the community and the divine, where the deity listens to grievances, provides justice, and mediates local conflicts.²

Performative Communities and Caste Hierarchies

The right to perform Theyyam is a traditional prerogative of specific Dalit and Scheduled Caste communities. This social arrangement creates a unique ritual inversion: for the duration of the performance, the marginalized artist transcends his social status to become a deity whom even the highest-caste Brahmin must revere.¹¹

The patronage of Theyyam was historically provided by the Kolathiri dynasty and local feudal lords (Janmis), who established shrines for these deities as a means of seeking protection for their lands and lineages.⁷ This patronage, however, exists in a state of tension with the subversive nature of the myths themselves, many of which recount the atrocities committed by high-caste rulers against the very communities that now embody the gods.⁴

The Martyrdom of Motherhood: The Legend of Kadavankottu Makkam

The story of Kadavankotuu Makkam is perhaps the most poignant example of how domestic jealousy and patriarchal notions of "honor" intersect to create a deity. Makkam’s narrative, preserved in the Thottam Pattu (ritual song), is a haunting indictment of the fragility of female safety within the joint family structure of pre-modern Kerala.¹⁸

The Birth of a Legend

Makkam was born as the only daughter of Unicheriya and Kunjikoman of the Kadangot Nambiar family in Kunhimangalam, near Payyannur.¹⁸ Her birth was seen as a divine gift, coming after her parents had already raised twelve sons. In the matrilineal (Marumakkathayam) society of the time, a daughter was vital for the continuation of the family name and inheritance.²⁰ She grew up as the beloved sister of twelve warrior brothers who served the Kolathiri king. Makkam was eventually married to her maternal uncle’s son, Kuttinambar, and gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl named Chathu and Chiru.¹⁸

The Anatomy of Betrayal

The tragedy began with the death of Makkam's mother and the subsequent illness of her husband, which left her vulnerable within the ancestral home (Tharavad). The wives of her eleven older brothers—with the notable exception of the youngest brother’s wife, Purani—were consumed by jealousy.²⁰ They feared that the brothers' deep affection for Makkam would lead to her children inheriting the bulk of the family’s wealth, a common anxiety in the transition from matrilineal to patrilineal social structures.²¹

The sisters-in-law conspired to ruin Makkam’s reputation by fabricating a story of infidelity. During a period when the brothers were away at war, a Vaniyan (oil-monger) arrived at the house with oil for the family deity. Because Makkam was menstruating and thus ritually impure, she could not personally receive the oil pot. She asked her sisters-in-law for help, but they ignored her, forcing her to instruct the Vaniyan to place the oil inside the house himself.¹⁸ As he emerged, the wives raised a hue and cry, accusing Makkam of an illicit affair with the youth.¹⁸

Upon the brothers' return, the wives successfully convinced them that Makkam had tarnished the family’s "splendor" and honor.¹⁸ Blighted by a misguided sense of masculine pride, the eleven older brothers decided that Makkam and her children must be eliminated. Only the youngest brother, Kuti Rama, protested the decision.¹⁸

The Ritual Journey and Deification

Under the pretext of taking her to a festival in Kottayam, the brothers led Makkam and her children on a long trek. Makkam, possessing a divine foresight, sensed her impending doom but did not resist, choosing instead to pray at every temple they passed to prove her innocence.²⁰ During the journey, the children became exhausted and thirsty. At Chala, they stopped at a house called Puthiya Veedu, where a kind woman gave them milk. Makkam, in a gesture of gratitude and finality, entrusted her ornaments to the woman.¹⁸

The journey culminated at a secluded well near Kayalode Achankarappalli. The brothers instructed Makkam to look into the well to see a "divine lamp." As she bent down, they beheaded her and slaughtered her two children, dumping their bodies into the well.¹⁸ A Mavilan man who witnessed the act was also killed to prevent the truth from emerging.¹⁸

The deification of Makkam was instantaneous and retributive. Her spirit, transformed into a fierce goddess, returned to Kunhimangalam. Legend states that the ancestral house was burnt to ashes, and the eleven brothers and their wives perished in the flames or through mysterious diseases.¹⁸ Makkam appeared in a dream to the woman at Chala who had given them milk, asking for a shrine to be built.¹⁸ Today, the Makkappothi Theyyam is a heart-wrenching performance where a male artist embodies the mother, often carrying two small dolls to represent her murdered children, ensuring that the community never forgets the cost of "honor".²¹

Intellectual Rebellion: The Sage-Goddess Muchilottu Bhagavathy

While Makkam’s story is one of domestic tragedy, Muchilottu Bhagavathy represents a challenge to the patriarchal monopoly on sacred knowledge. Her myth is a foundational text for the Vaniya community and a significant point of reference for feminist critiques of Brahmanical hegemony.¹⁰

The Prodigy and the Scholars

Born as Devi into the scholarly Rayaramangalathumana Namboothiri family in Perinchalloore, she was a child prodigy educated in the Vedas, grammar, and literature.²⁴ Her brilliance was so profound that it intimidated the established male scholars of the region. As she reached marriageable age, Devi declared that she would only wed the man who could defeat her in a public debate.²⁴

A group of scholars, led by the elderly Peringellur Mootha Gurukkal, accepted the challenge. For two days, Devi answered every question with precision, leaving the scholars humiliated.¹⁰ Fearing the loss of their social status to a woman, the scholars resorted to a trap. They asked her two questions that they claimed only someone with sexual experience could answer:

1. What is the greatest pleasure in life?
2. What is the greatest pain known to humans?.²³

Devi, drawing on her vast knowledge of the Rasas and the biological realities of the world, answered honestly: "Sringara" (erotic/romantic love) and "Prasava Vedana" (labor pain).²³ The scholars immediately accused her of being unchaste, arguing that a virgin could not possibly possess such knowledge without direct experience. Despite her innocence, she was ostracized by her family and expelled from the village.¹⁰

Self-Immolation and the Vaniya Patronage

Devi walked to Karivellur, where she decided to end her life to prove her purity. She built a pyre, but the fire was insufficient. She first asked a Thiyya man for dry fronds, but he fled in fear. Finally, a Vaniya man of the Muchilottu clan, who was carrying oil to a temple, sensed her divinity and poured the oil onto the pyre.¹⁰ Devi blessed him and disappeared into the flames.

The Vaniya community subsequently deified her as Muchilottu Bhagavathy. Her Theyyam is considered one of the most aesthetically gorgeous and elaborate, characterized by a "Swatika Bhava" (gentle demeanor).¹⁰ The performance involves a ritual where the deity gazes into a mirror at a well, symbolizing her return to the earthly realm as a protector of those who were abandoned by the high-caste scholars.²⁶

The Performativity of Gender and the Embodiment of Shakti

The central feminist paradox of Theyyam is that the "Amma Daivangal" (Mother Goddesses) are almost exclusively performed by men.¹ Using Judith Butler’s framework of gender performativity, researchers argue that Theyyam demonstrates gender as a "performance" rather than an essence.²⁸ The male body, through a "stylized repetition of acts"—ritualized gestures, makeup, and costumes—becomes a site where the binary of male and female is dissolved.¹¹

Cross-Gendered Manifestations

In Theyyam, the transformation from man to goddess is not merely a theatrical act of cross-dressing; it is a metaphysical necessity. The Kolakaran (performer) must embody the fierce energy of the goddess to effectively channel her power for the community’s benefit.³⁰ This process is normalized through the sacred context of the ritual. Because the performance is perceived as an auspicious manifestation of the divine, the male body in female attire is viewed with reverence rather than the stigma associated with secular cross-dressing.³⁰

However, this embodiment also carries a complex social weight. While the male performer occupies a "feminine" space during the ritual, he returns to a patriarchal social structure once the mask is removed.¹¹ The performance of female trauma by men can be seen as a form of "ritualized empathy," where the community acknowledges the suffering of women like Makkam and Devi, yet the authority to represent that trauma remains in male hands.¹³

The Ritual Process of Transformation

The metamorphosis from human to deity follows a strict sequence, designed to suppress the performer’s personal consciousness and allow the divine presence to emerge.⁴

1. Vrutham (The Penance): A period of rigorous self-discipline lasting up to 41 days. This includes a vegetarian diet, abstinence from sex and alcohol, and isolation from the family.²
2. Vellattam / Thottam: The first stage of performance, conducted without the full costume or crown. The performer sings the Thottam Pattu, recounting the deity's history to align his mind with the divine persona.¹
3. Mukhathezhuthu (Face Painting): An intricate process using natural pigments (rice flour, turmeric, charcoal). The design of the face paint is a visual shorthand for the deity’s temperament—fierce goddesses often feature aggressive red patterns.⁶
4. The Mudi (The Crown): The culminating act. When the sacred headgear is placed on the performer, the deity is believed to inhabit the body. The performer then gazes into a hand-held mirror (Mukhadarshanam) to witness his own transformation into the god.⁴

Devakoothu: The Lone Female Performer

While the vast majority of Theyyams are male-led, the ritual of Devakoothu at the Thekkumbad Koolom Thayakav temple is the sole exception where a woman performs the Theyyam.⁴ This ritual, performed once every two years, serves as a significant case study in the gendered boundaries of Kerala’s sacred arts.⁵

The Myth of Valliyamma

Devakoothu tells the story of a goddess who descended from the heavens (Devaloka) with her companions to pick flowers in the lush, verdant island of Thekkumbad.³¹ The goddess became lost in the dense creepers (Valli) and was abandoned by her friends. She was rescued by a local villager who provided her with a hut and safety. Eventually, the sage Narada arrived with clothes and ornaments to help her return to Devaloka.³³ Moved by the hospitality of the islanders, the goddess promised to return every two years to bless them.³¹

The Female Vrata (Penance)

The performer of Devakoothu, currently M.V. Ambujakshi, must undergo a penance that is arguably more rigorous than that of her male counterparts.¹²

The existence of Devakoothu highlights the "ritualized exclusion" of women from other Theyyams. While the temple’s "tolerance" is celebrated, the fact that only one form out of over 400 is open to women suggests that the ritual sphere remains heavily guarded by patriarchal tradition.¹²

Social Injustice and the "War Cry" of the Marginalized

Theyyam is not merely a religious event; it is a mechanism for "ritualistic catharsis" and social commentary.¹³ Many of the myths associated with female Theyyams—and indeed, male Theyyams like Pottan—are explicit in their critique of the caste system and the arrogance of the landed gentry.¹⁵

The Deification of the Victim

The process of deification in North Malabar follows a specific socio-political logic: those who are murdered by the powerful are resurrected as gods whom the powerful must then worship.⁴ This is particularly evident in the "Warrior Theyyams" and the "Martyr Theyyams."

• Pottan Theyyam: Reenacts a debate between the scholar Adi Sankaracharya and a Pulayan (outcaste), where the latter mocks the former's pride and argues for the inherent equality of all humans. "If you cut us both, won't the blood be red?" is a central refrain of the Pottan Theyyam’s satirical ballad.¹³
• Thottinkara Bhagavathy: Represents a Thiyya woman murdered for the "transgression" of literacy. Her deification ensures that her intellectual defiance is immortalized.¹
• Neeliyar Bhagavathy: A slave girl named Neeli who mastered the Puranas and was killed for it. Her spirit was initially a "vortex of trauma" that haunted the rulers who killed her, eventually being transformed into a protective goddess through ritual propitiation.⁷

Theyyam as Collective Trauma Processing

From a psychoanalytical perspective, Theyyam functions as a medium for processing "cultural trauma".¹³ The performance allows the marginalized community to revisit historical grievances—caste exclusion, forced labor, and gender-based violence—within a controlled, sacred environment. The trance state of the performer and the intense drumming facilitate a "pendulation" between traumatic memories and ritual healing.¹³ By allowing a Dalit performer to embody divine agency, Theyyam provides a temporary suspension of the "structural violence" inherent in the caste system.¹³

Ritual Symbolism and Aesthesis: The Language of the Goddess

The aesthetic of a female Theyyam is a carefully curated language of symbols that communicates the deity's origin and temperament. Each element, from the shape of the Mudi (crown) to the patterns of the Mukhathezhuthu (face paint), is dictated by tradition and the specific legend of the goddess.⁶

The Visual Vocabulary of the Divine Feminine

The performance itself is a "synthesis of ritualistic dance, instrumental music, painting, and literature".⁶ The Thottam Pattu (ballads) are considered foundational pieces of Malayalam folk literature, often containing the earliest recorded protests against social stratification.⁷

The Contemporary Feminist Critique: Barriers and Breaking Points

As Theyyam moves into the 21st century, it faces new challenges regarding its traditional gender and caste boundaries. While the ritual remains a source of community pride, modern feminist voices in Kerala are increasingly questioning the exclusion of women from the performative space.¹²

The Sabarimala Context

The debate over women’s entry into the Sabarimala temple has cast a shadow over other ritual traditions in Kerala. Critics point to the irony of deifying women like Makkam and Devi while simultaneously maintaining ritual rules that exclude contemporary women from high ritual roles.¹² The "fake sense of equality" in cases like Devakoothu is often contrasted with the systemic exclusion of women from the 400+ other types of Theyyam.¹²

Breaking the Ceiling: Seetha Sathish and Thirayattam

A significant milestone occurred in 2023 when Seetha Sathish emerged as the first female performer of Thirayattam, a ritual art form related to Theyyam practiced in South Malabar.³⁵ While Thirayattam has historically been a male bastion of the Dalit communities, Seetha’s entry was encouraged by masters like Peethambaran Moorkkanadu, who saw the potential for the art form to evolve.³⁵ Her journey serves as a catalyst for a broader conversation about "gender equality and social inclusivity" in Kerala’s sacred grooves.³⁵

The Commercialization Dilemma

The "extravaganza" of modern Theyyam performances, funded by wealthy temple committees and attracting international tourists, has led to concerns about the dilution of its subversive potential.¹² There is a tension between preserving Theyyam as a "living cult" of the marginalized and its transformation into a "cultural spectacle" for the upper castes and outsiders.¹² Some scholars argue that the "spirit of community and devotion" can sometimes be used to "cleanse off the discriminatory features" of the religion, masking the ongoing socio-economic struggles of the performer communities.¹²

Conclusion: The Endurance of Ritual Resistance

Theyyam remains one of India’s most powerful examples of an indigenous "archive of the subaltern".³⁷ It is a ritual space where the history of the oppressed is not merely remembered but embodied. The female-centric Theyyams, from the scholarly Muchilottu Bhagavathy to the betrayed Kadavankottu Makkam, ensure that the "war cry" of women who suffered at the hands of patriarchy and caste continues to resonate in the modern world.¹¹

While the art form is rooted in ancient traditions, its core message—the transformation of the victim into the divine judge—remains relevant in the contemporary fight for social justice. Theyyam teaches that power is not just something to be worshipped from afar; it is something that can be summoned from within the marginalized body, turning trauma into triumph and silence into a thunderous percussive dance that demands to be seen and heard.¹³

References

• K. K. N. Kurup, Theyyam: Ritual Art of North Malabar, Department of Information and Public Relations, Government of Kerala, 1986.
• Rich Freeman, Performing Possession: Ritual and Consciousness in the Theyyam Complex of Northern Kerala, in Asian Folklore Studies, Vol. 55, No. 2, Nanzan University, Japan, 1996.
• Dilip Menon, Cultural History of Modern India, Social Science Press, New Delhi, 2006.
• C. K. Janu, Mother Goddess Traditions in Kerala Folk Culture, Kerala Sahitya Akademi, Thrissur, 2009.
• M. J. Gopinath, Folk Deities and Social Protest in Kerala, Indian Folklore Research Journal, Vol. 18, 2012.
• Kerala Folklore Academy, “Theyyam and Female Deities in North Malabar Folk Traditions,” https://keralafolkloreacademy.org
• Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts (IGNCA), “Ritual Theatre Traditions of Kerala,” https://ignca.gov.in
• Sahapedia, “Theyyam: Gender, Power and Ritual Performance,” https://www.sahapedia.org/theyyam
• N. K. Bose, Culture and Society in India, Asia Publishing House, Bombay, 1967.
• Radhika Chopra (Ed.), Reframing Gender in South Asian Rituals, Routledge India, 2014.