The Udayam Madam Payyanvalappil Thondachan Devasthanam in Kannur district, an ancestral household which has been a Theyyam shrine for centuries, has put up a ‘photography not allowed’ banner for the first time this year. Prajeesh, a family member, says the decision follows the bad experience the family had to endure during the Theyyam ritual season last year.
When Kandanar Kelan Theyyam (a prominent warrior deity) arrived at the thirumuttam (inner courtyard) for the fire-walking ritual at the tharavad (ancestral home) last year, there was no space to perform. This is not an isolated situation. Many Theyyam shrines in the northern Malabar region have begun imposing similar photography bans.
Many Theyyam shrines in north Kerala have imposed photography bans.
| Photo Credit:
Thulasi Kakkat
In the age of social media, the proliferation of content creators is posing a threat to the ceremonial proceedings of a ritual performance. A people living in a Reel-ridden world, yearning to be seen and remembered, arrive at the sacred groves (where these performances are held), armed with cameras or expensive mobile phones, oblivious to the solemnity of the tradition. They block the theyyams’ (the performer) designated paths, and barge into the sanctified zones where the ritualistic dance is performed. They often don’t understand the difference between art and ritual while posting content online and even prevent devotees and members of the tharavad hosting the Theyyam from seeing their “gods” up close.
At No. 16, Kerala is among the world’s top 26 travel destinations for 2026, according to Rough Guides rankings, a U.K.-based travel guide publisher. And Theyyam has been a recurring visual imagery in pop culture — from Kerala tourism ads to films and music videos, most recently, rapper Hanumankind’s single Run It Up (2025). What’s shown outside Kerala as Theyyam is basically fancy-dress acts by artists. Such iterations do not obstruct a Theyyam performance in the sacred groves (theyyam kavu). However, real koladharis who do Theyyam don’t perform outside the kaavus. It is even frowned upon. If they do, they can even face an unofficial ban within the kaavus.
Theyyamis a divine ritual, unlike art performances such as Kathakali and Koodiyattam.
| Photo Credit:
Thulasi Kakkat
Divine providence
Vinu Peruvannan, one of the chief Theyyam artists, who has embodied heroic deities such as Kathivanoor Veeran, Kandanar Kelan, Thottumkara Bhagavathy and Nedubaliyan, blames it on the lack of awareness and wisdom. “People even sneak into the aniyara (backstage) armed with their cameras to click pictures, which reflects an utter lack of knowledge about belief and ritualistic norms. The ruckus they create during the performance often hinders the rituals,” rues Peruvannan.
The artists who perform Theyyam are called koladharis. Once the koladhari puts on the ritual costume and adornment, he is no longer seen merely as a performer but becomes that particular theyyam or deity. Theyyams are believed to be the reincarnations of those who were wronged or treated unjustly. These men and women, according to legend, are reborn as theyyams, to seek revenge.
According to belief, the soul of a theyyam is deeply entrenched in its kaavu (sacred grove) and land. There are theyyams that dwell in stones and thorns, in the kanjiram (strychnine) tree, or the fields and undergrowth, or in pits dug to ensnare wild boars and tigers. The villagers of north Kerala believe that the theyyams protect them. And the theyyams hold them close too, addressing them as “my children”, listening with empathy to their pain and sorrow, comforting them in a warm embrace and bestowing their blessings upon them.
Ritualistic performances in Kerala are aplenty, such as thira and mudiyettu, among these Theyyam has a greater visual recall for outsiders. Theyyam and Bhoothakola (recall the film Kantara) are essentially the same, one is practised in Kerala, the other in Tulu Nadu, Karnataka. Kathakali and Koodiyattam, on the other hand, are purely art forms.
Since time immemorial, stories of Theyyams have attracted people from faraway lands.
| Photo Credit:
Thulasi Kakkat
Theyyam tours
Since time immemorial, stories of theyyams have transcended geographical boundaries, attracting people from faraway lands. And those who come to watch these deities in their resplendent forms and glory become one with the locals. They have conducted themselves with respect at the sacred groves that smell of turmeric and burning palm-leaf torches.
Even as times change and ideological and technological advancements pose questions that challenge the theyyams, they have survived — revelling in their steadfast devotion. But their present-day reality seems to be shaped by a generation that yearns to be seen and remembered, one that uses them to garner ‘likes’ and expand their online ‘reach’.
Santhosh Vengara, 54, who pioneered the concept of Theyyam tours in north Kerala in 2010, believes that a sense of restraint must be imposed on photography at sacred groves. Over the years, Vengara has brought thousands of tourists, both international and domestic, to witness Theyyam. “It is the responsibility of tour organisers to explain the art form to the tourists and create a sense of awareness about the sanctity of the rituals. Photographers should be allotted a designated space for a fee,” he says. Tourists are never a problem, but the influx of photographers who disrupt the ritualistic performance while aiming for that perfect-angled shot is an issue that needs to be addressed.
Photographers disrupt the ritualistic performances while aiming for that perfect-angled shot.
| Photo Credit:
Thulasi Kakkat
Sreeranj Sreedhar, 56, a street and documentary photographer who has been conducting Theyyam photography workshops, echoes the sentiment. The problems created by content creators and photographers at the kaavus is a matter of concern, he says. Sreedhar makes it a point to explain the divinity of the space to his clients and the need to behave accordingly. Though he doesn’t support a total ban on photography, “a dedicated ticketed space for photographers would help regulate the maddening crowd and also generate income for the kaavus,” he says.
Amid all this, one cannot but wonder about the Theyyamartists themselves. Don’t they have any stake in the copyrights of these photographs? When photos and videos of theyyams are used for commercial gain, are the rights and privacy of the performers being respected?
thulasidas.pv@thehindu.co.in
