Hornbill’s thirst

Great Hornbill [Image courtesy here]

The Great Hornbill is the state bird of Kerala.  It is called vezhambal [വേഴാമ്പൽ] in Malayalam.  Vezhambal appeared copiously in Malayalam literature though the present generation’s aversion to nature and its wealth has alienated the bird from literature too.  In Malayalam literary tradition, Vezhambal cannot drink water directly; it has to wait for the rains.  So vezhambal is a bird of longing in Malayalam literature.

The vezhambal longs for the rain.  People long for love. When vezhambal roamed freely in the Malayalam literary landscape, love was a forbidden fruit in the Eden of Kerala.  Youngsters were supposed to marry the partners discovered by parents in what was (and still is, to a large extent) known as ‘arranged marriages’.  ‘Love marriage’ was considered an abominable aberration.

I grew up in the 60s and early 70s listening to the plaintive love songs written by Vayalar Ramavarma and composed by Devarajan, arguably the most famous lyricist-composer duo in the Malayalam film industry.  Vayalar wrote about 2000 songs for 223 Malayalam movies and several plays. Quite a lot of them were about lost loves. 

One of my favourite songs was Premabhikshuki [പ്രേമഭിക്ഷുകി] in which a lover asks his beloved, who is addressed a “supplicant of love”, in which birth, which night, which place they met for the first time.  Generations came and went trampling upon the footprints left by them on the dusty paths.  The singer wishes he could forget his love.  If only they had not met again.  Their love that blossomed by the lamppost beside the wayside shelter was picked and hurled by destiny.  Once again, destiny came back with the same heartlessness to pick and hurl the singer’s love.

There were a lot of Malayalam films and songs about lost loves, forbidden loves.  No wonder vezhambal became the state’s official bird.  There was a lot of longing in Malayali hearts that destiny picked and hurled to dust.  Vezhambal continued to yearn for the rain.

One of the most memorable vezhambal songs is written by Vayalar’s successor in the industry, O N V Kurup.  The woman in that song, വേഴാമ്പൽ കേഴും വേനൽകുടീരം, is compared to a torrid wilderness  in which the vezhambal keeps moaning for reprieve.  The woman’s memories lie like shadows in that desolate place.  Winters came dressed in a bathing towel and folded their arms to her.  Springs decanted honey into floral chalices.  But memories moan now like illusory desires, like transient rainbows.  Life leaves teardrops behind.  Like the dewdrop at the edge of a flower petal, life still scintillates.  The petal will fall but memories will hum like the floating beetles in the garden.  You will continue to be the vezhambal.

Malayalam movies have changed a lot since the days of lost loves. The vezhambal has become history.  There is more joy in the plots now.  Apparently, at least. There is more hatred for sure. More crime too. 

Forbidden love was better in comparison.  Better than love jihad and counter jihad. I can still hear the vezhambal moaning in the summer landscapes of Kerala.