Kolkkali Experience

Step into the rhythm of Kolkali – where sticks clash, circles dance, and tradition echoes

Kolkali is a traditional folk art originating from the Malabar region of Kerala, India. In this dance, performers form a circle, rhythmically striking small sticks while executing specific steps. As the performance unfolds, the circle expands and contracts, with the accompanying music gradually increasing in pitch until it reaches a climactic point. Kolkali has gained popularity as a featured event in the Kerala School Kalolsavam, recognized as Asia’s largest cultural festival.

There are two distinct styles of Kolkali: the traditional Kolkali and Thekkan Koladi. The traditional Kolkali includes forms such as Thacholikali and Rajasooyam, but it is on the brink of extinction, whereas Thekkan Koladi remains vibrant, particularly in state kalolsavams. Many of Kerala’s traditional performing arts, including Kathakali, Velakali, Poorakkali, and Thacholikali, have incorporated elements from Kalarippayattu throughout their development. Kolkali has significantly drawn from Kalarippayattu, especially in the foundational training of its performers, encompassing both practical techniques and body massage for trainees. Numerous body postures, choreography, and footwork in Kolkali are directly influenced by Kalarippayattu.

Parichamuttu Kali Experience

Where faith and martial rhythm clash in a dance of tradition

Parichamuttu Kali is a traditional martial-arts dance form originating from Kerala, India, practiced by the Saint Thomas Syrian Christians, who trace their lineage to the evangelistic efforts of Thomas the Apostle in the 1st century, as well as by the Latin Catholics of Malabar residing along the coastal regions of Kerala.

This dance is characterized by male performers wielding swords and shields, mirroring the movements and techniques of Kalarippayattu. It shares a close relationship with Margam Kali. Additionally, Parichamuttu Kali has been performed by Dalit communities, including the Pulayar and Cherumar. The Christian community showcases this dance during church festivals, incorporating songs that narrate the story of Christ. In Palakkad, it is referred to as ‘Vattakali,’ while in central Kerala, it enjoys popularity among coastal residents, particularly within the Aryar community. The performance typically involves a group of ten individuals led by a figure known as Asan, around whom the other dancers revolve.

The dancers are generally attired in white loincloths adorned with red wristbands, and they sing in unison as they perform. The Asan leads the singing, accompanied by the sound of a bell. Musical support is limited to ilathalam and the rhythmic clashing of swords and shields.

 

Chavittu Nadakam

Step into the thunder of tradition—where faith, theatre, and fierce rhythm collide on the coastal stages of Kerala

In the narrow, sea-kissed lanes of Fort Kochi, as twilight spreads across tiled rooftops and ancient churches, a deep, thunderous rhythm begins to rise. It echoes through the cobbled streets, like the pulse of a forgotten legend coming back to life. Drawn by the sound, you find yourself before a modest wooden stage, its planks already quivering under the force of poised feet. Then, with a single, echoing stomp—chavittu—the story begins.

This is Chavittu Nadakam, a powerful, resounding dance-drama that echoes the martial soul and spiritual legacy of Kerala’s Latin Christian community. It’s an art form where theatre meets ritual, where every stomp of the foot on the wooden floor is both a war cry and a prayer. And through Ekathra’s carefully woven journey, you’re not merely a spectator—you step into the very breath of the tradition.

Born in the 17th century along the coastal belt of Kerala, Chavittu Nadakam finds its roots in the cultural crossroads of Europe and South India. Influenced by colonial encounters and imbued with native resilience, it evolved into a spectacular blend of operatic storytelling, military precision, and devotional fervor. Its birthplace, the vibrant shores of Fort Kochi, continues to nurture the legacy through generations of artists who carry both sword and scripture onstage.

As the night deepens, the performers emerge—regal, resplendent. Dressed in glittering medieval armor and velvet cloaks, their faces painted with theatrical precision, they look like warriors stepped out of an illuminated manuscript. Their movements are bold, synchronised, and unapologetically grand, every gesture narrating epic tales of saints, soldiers, and kings. The stage beneath them is not merely a platform—it is a battlefield, a church, a kingdom.

The story unfolds through song—stirring verses carried by powerful voices that rise and fall with the tempo of Pada Thamber and Maravaladi drums. The chants and dialogues move through intricate segments—Varna Mattukal, Virutham, Kavi, Kappu, Thuyarm, and Kalithura—each building toward an electrifying crescendo that leaves the stage trembling and the audience breathless.

But the true magic of Chavittu Nadakam lies beyond the performance. Through Ekathra, you are invited into the lives of those who keep the tradition alive. You visit small coastal villages, where veteran masters teach young aspirants under palm-thatched sheds, their chants echoing over the sound of waves. You hear stories of transformation—how this art sustains not only culture, but livelihoods, self-respect, and a sense of belonging. Local tailors, makeup artists, drummers, and playwrights all form the intricate web that makes a single performance possible.

You share meals with the artists—fresh seafood curries, warm appams, and stories that linger long after the plates are cleared. You witness rehearsals, handle the costumes, and perhaps even feel the wooden stage under your own feet, understanding why each step must be strong, deliberate, and true.

The experience is immersive, unforgettable—a symphony of heritage and heartbeat. In the thunder of the feet and the silence between drumbeats, you hear a people remembering who they are.

And when the final stomp fades into the night and the sea returns to its quiet murmur, you carry with you something intangible—an imprint of rhythm, resilience, and reverence.

Explore Performing Art Forms