A short detour from the busy NH 66 leads to Kadamakudy, a tranquil cluster of 14 islets on the northern edge of Kochi. Here, life still follows the rhythm of tides and seasons.
Once known mainly as a fishing village, Kadamakudy now attracts tourists from across the world. They come for its backwaters, Pokkali fields and unique way of life.
At Varapuzha, the city’s bustle begins to fade. The change is immediate. The narrow road into Kadamakudy runs between vast stretches of water.
On one side lies Veeranpuzha, the local name for this part of the Vembanad Lake. Here, freshwater meets brackish water. Fishing and prawn farming sustain many families here.
In these waters, a unique sight unfolds in the blue pre-dawn glow. Women stand waist-deep and search for fish with their bare hands. They are known as ‘thappukar’, or searchers. It’s a practice that has been passed down through generations.
With a pot in hand, they wade into the chilly waters in the wee hours. Their feet sink into the soft mud below while their hands sweep through the water.
The water is often too murky to see what lies beneath. These women rely instead on touch, instinct and memory of the terrain below. When they sense movement, they pin the fish down in the mud or grab them.
For Laila, fishing has been life for nearly four decades. Now 59, she came to Kadamakudy from Vaikom after her marriage in 1985. She began ‘hand-grab’ fishing with her husband at the age of 19.
“I usually sell the catch in the market. Some customers directly approach us,” says Laila, who is also part of the Haritha Karma Sena.
From November to mid-April, Pokkali fields are leased for fish and prawn cultivation. Once the season ends, local women enter the fields to fish. Once the farming season begins, they work in the fields and also fish in the lake at low tide.
The ‘thappukar’ catch prawns, pallathi (orange chromide), koori (catfish), and occasionally crabs.
“Earlier, there were more crabs,” says Laila. “Now as exports have increased, so the catch has come down.”
Larger fish such as karimeen (pearl spot), kalanchi (Asian seabass), pilopy (tilapia), chemballi (red snapper), poolan (goby) and kara are usually sold in the market. The women also collect clams.
Much of the day’s catch is sold nearby. Customers often wait near the fields to buy fish directly from the women.
“At the market, it is commission-based and we have to pay for the stalls,” says Laila.
Ambika arrived in Kadamakudy 40 years ago. After the birth of her first child, she began fishing with her husband. She has continued ever since.
“Years in the water have taught us to read the tides with precision,” she says. “During Ekadashi days, for example, we know exactly when the water will rise and fall. On such days, when water levels drop, we enter the lake after 11pm and stay until dawn. Once the water rises and turns clear, fishing becomes difficult.”
Her friends, Baby, Rejitha and Chandrika, say they enter the fields at 3am. “The fish must be sold quickly. It goes either to the market or to nearby toddy shops. Once the catch loses freshness, the price drops,” says Baby.
“If there is extra fish, we take it home.”
Ambika adds that the waters are changing. “Earlier, catches were larger. Newer fishing methods and the rise of fish and prawn farming have left the catch dwindling,” she says.
For Rejitha, too, fishing is inseparable from the idea of home. Born and raised in Kadamakudy, she grew up watching women enter the water before dawn. “I was born into this culture,” she says with a laugh.
The younger generation, however, is slowly moving away from the water. Ambika’s daughter-in-law Gopika Gopi, also from Kadamakudy, grew up fishing with her father. But she has chosen a different path.
After studying fashion designing, she now runs a food stall near the main Kadamakudy road. “Most of my customers are tourists,” she beams.
Gopika seems convinced her mother-in-law could probably be among the last generation of Kadamakudy’s ‘thappukar’.
This story was reported by Vidhya C K for TNIE - Kerala.