Kalaripayattu
is an art.
is warfare.
is a way of living.
is in my blood.
is all I have ever known.
is Kannappa Chekavar.
Kannappa Chekavar
is my acha,
my father.
He is disciplined and strict.
He is loving and encouraging too.
He is also the greatest
Kalari master of Kadathanadu.
He is unmatchable,
unbeatable
in this art of war
fought with every weapon used in close combat.
Wooden staffs, swords, daggers, maces
are mere toys in his hands.
It is said he knows more adavukkal – combat moves –
than anyone else practising Kalaripayattu.
It is also said
that he has never taught
all nineteen of them to anyone.
He has shared all
but the last technique,
the most cunning one,
keeping it close to his heart,
waiting for that special student
worthy enough to earn this secret.
No pity
The consequence of being ten minutes late
is an extra hour of practice.
Breathless and exhausted,
I gaze longingly
at the other students leaving the class.
They must be off to the vacant field
by the village pond
to hang out and play
before the sun sets for the day.
Aromal steps out too,
casting a look of disappointment
in my direction.
Control your breathing, Unniarcha!
Acha interrupts my thoughts.
No pity, no sympathy in that voice.
Sigh!
Agony
Without a word,
I continue practising the chuvadukkal –
the basic steps and foot placements,
into the second hour.
A bout of kicks, squats, lunges and stretches later,
I move on to vadivukkal,
my anger dissipated
like the summer rainstorm outside.
The ashta vadivukkal
– the...