I watch the waves crash against the huge rocks and boulders below me and the long stretch of Pallikara beach, and recall the famous scene from Tamil director Mani Ratnam’s movie Bombay, and the hit A R Rahman song that was picturised here. I am at the Bekal fort, in Kasaragod district of Kerala, south India, built by Shivappa Nayaka of the Keladi Nayaka dynasty in 1650CE, to protect the spice trade. Built out of deep maroon laterite stone, it stands on a promontory that looms over the Arabian Sea and the sun-kissed coast, with its huge moat, battlements, observation towers, water tanks, tunnels and solid walls. It was part of a chain of forts like Chandragiri and Arikady, built to defend the coast of the Arabian Sea, and has witnessed several battles over the ages.
Built by a Hindu king, it was later an important part of Muslim emperor Tipu Sultan’s military strategy. The most beautiful part of the fort is the panoramic view of the entire coast with its palm-fringed beaches that it offers from its vantage point. Locals and tourists sit on the bastions and click photos as the setting sun paints everything a burnished orange.
My home away from home is the newly-opened Gateway Bekal in Kasaragod, with a riverside location and surrounded by lush frangipani and palm trees, with a sundial-shaped amphitheatre and a giant wooden model of a traditional chundan vallam, or snake boat, on the lawns. With high ceilings and a vertical garden, the lobby has life-size straw and bamboo elephants, shining brass lamps, earthy teakwood furniture, ceiling lights covered with greenery, and huge pillars. The cottages, suites and villas are well designed in a mix of traditional Kerala and modern design with a swimming pool and a spa.
Kasaragod (both the district and town) situated on the estuary of the Chandragiri river, has lured seafaring traders down the ages, especially Arabs looking for spices and precious materials. It was an important town for the Vijayanagar kingdom and after them was ruled by the Ikkeri Nayakas. It is called the ‘saptha bhasha sangama bhoomi’, or ‘the land of seven languages’ — Malayalam, Tulu, Kannada, Marathi, Urdu, Konkani and Beary. It is one of the most biodiverse regions in the world with the western Ghats and the maximum number of rivers in Kerala surrounding it.
One of the best ways to explore the complexity of this region is through its food. You find both North Malabar specialities — Malabar biriyani, kakka roti, ottupola appam — and moplah cuisine, which is the Muslim community’s food here and has multiple influences, mainly from Arab traders. It also draws inspiration from the Portuguese, Dutch and Jewish. It uses a lot of spices, coconut, eggs, banana, and rice. The hotel serves us a curated dinner by the poolside with regional specialities like spiced pineapple rasam, red pumpkin curry, eleyada, Malabar-style parottas and biryani, ending with a Suleimani tea with lime and spices.
A full feast
My favourite is the traditional Kerala-style feast, or the Sadya usually served at lunch at the hotel on a banana leaf, with as many as 25 items, from rice and parapu (dal) to sambar, rasam, cabbage thoran, pickles like inji puli — a tangy pickle made from ginger, tamarind, green chilies, and jaggery — avial, and pappadums, a melange of flavours and textures. There are different styles of making and serving a Sadya and regional variations in various parts of Kerala. The meal tastes wholesome and delicious, and ends with traditional Kerala desserts of ada pradhaman with coconut milk and jaggery and paal payasam.
Kerala is famous for its palm-fringed backwaters, but the houseboat cruise that I take on the Valiyaparamba backwaters, fed by four large rivers including the Tejaswini feels more pristine and untouched than in other parts of the state. We glide across the emerald waters in a houseboat that’s run by Bekal Ripples, watching fishermen set their nets and others catching clams as the setting sun casts golden shadows on the water. Egrets, kingfishers, and cormorants fly over our heads, as we pass islands lined with coconut palms and areca nut trees.
I watch the sunset from the Trikkanad beach, where boys play football and fishermen ready their nets for their next catch. Brightly painted fishing boats and napping dogs make a pretty picture as I take out my sketchbook and start drawing what I see around me.
Another enjoyable experience is the Thonikadavu nature trail, where the owner takes us on a guided tour of the 100-acre plantation, with the sounds of birds and insects in the air, walking on red laterite soil paths, lined with coconut palms, betel nut and rubber trees, climbers, orchids, pepper and wild herbs, and a variety of other flora. We learn to make bags and hats from areca palm leaves, and explore old water tunnels called suranga that supply fresh spring water. We rest in a tiny homestay in the middle of the planation, with a refreshing cup of blue lemon grass and blue butterfly pea tea brewed in fresh spring water.
Kasaragod’s melting pot culture is best experienced by visiting its churches, mosques and temples. The gargantuan Malik Deenar mosque is one of the oldest mosques in India and built in the Kerala Islamic style. Not far from here is the Shree Ananthapadmanabha Swamy Lake Temple, with more than 1,000 years of history, a temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu, situated in the middle of a small lake.
I watch a visually arresting theyyam ritual performance at the 500-year-old Madiyan Koolom temple, with copper shingled roofs, dedicated to deity Bhadrakali, with a huge banyan tree in front and intricately carved wooden ceilings and faded murals on walls depicting stories from the Ramayana and other epics.
Theyyam is a traditional and ritualistic dance form with mime and music, from the regions of Kannur and Kasaragod. Ruling clans established their own shrines and sacred groves for Theyyam deities where their own rituals and customs were observed. The patronage of theyyam was bestowed in the hands of the ruling landlord communities.
It’s an ethereal experience watching the process, from face painting to donning an elaborate headdress and skirt made of coconut fronds, and the powerful performance with expressive eyes and movements to the strident beats of drums. It seems a fitting finale to my time in this untouched part of God’s own country.
wknd@khaleejtimes.com