(Thula 10 : When Kannur’s Sacred Groves Awaken)
The month of Thula has its own pulse in Kannur. As the monsoon retreats, the earth smells of renewal, and the chenda beats begin to echo through temples and sacred groves. It is the time when Theyyam season begins when gods walk among men, and stories older than memory come alive again.
This is not just a festival; it’s the rebirth of spirit, of forgotten truths, and sometimes… of broken relationships.
The Night of Gulikan
That night, the grove burned with sacred firelight. The Gulikan Theyyam, fierce and radiant, stood before the devotees his body painted in ash and red, his laughter echoing through the palms like thunder.
Among the crowd, one figure trembled a young man, eyes swollen with guilt. It was the younger brother of the performer behind the divine mask.
He stepped forward, hands folded, voice cracking through the rhythm of the drums:
“I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry. I hurt you. Does Gulikan forgive me? Does my brother forgive me?”
The crowd fell silent. Even the flames seemed to pause.
The Divine Laughter
Then, Gulikan burst into laughter a deep, thunderous, unearthly laugh that echoed through the entire grove. It wasn’t mockery. It was power cleansing, freeing, wild as the forest wind.
And in that sacred laughter came his reply:
“Aha! You think love breaks so easily?
Blood cannot hate, only the mind can.
You wounded not your brother you wounded your own heart.
But even the wound of ego heals when love returns.
Gulikan forgives, for your brother’s love has never left you.”
The words struck deep. The younger brother fell to his knees, crying, pressing his forehead to the ground before the Gulikan. But the god only laughed again louder, freer — as if the fire itself had forgiven.
When Art Becomes Healing
That night, I saw something no book or teaching could describe.
I saw how Theyyam beyond costume, beyond dance becomes a mirror of truth. It wasn’t just a performance. It was divine intervention, born through art, tradition, and brotherhood.
A family’s wound was healed not by words, but by the spirit of a god who laughed away the pain showing that love is stronger than anger, and forgiveness more powerful than pride.
The Inspiration
Since that night, my respect for Theyyam walk has deepened beyond imagination.
I realized each Theyyam isn’t just a ritual. It’s a living emotion, a divine language that speaks where human words fail.
When Thula 10 arrives, Kannur’s groves don’t just open to festivals they open to miracles.
They remind us that even through masks, fire, and divine madness, truth and love always find their way home.
Because sometimes, God doesn’t shed tears to forgive
He laughs to set your soul free.
