A group of friends is gearing up for a night ride. Their destination: Kumbalangi.
Under the cover of night, people arrive in droves from far and wide to this tranquil land by the backwaters to see the magic of ‘kavaru’, the local term for the annual phenomenon of bioluminescence bloom.
Cut to the next scene: “Kavaru season gives us more trouble than benefits,” says Prince, a disgruntled fisherman in the village.
These are the two sides of Kumbalangi — one experienced by visitors, and the other lived daily by its residents.
And this contrast forms the core of the recently released documentary ‘Kavaru: The Price of Glow’ by budding filmmaker Akhil Devan.
The idea for the documentary, presented by filmmaker Lijo Jose Pellissery and featuring Kumbalangi Nights writer Syam Pushkaran, came to Akhil when he himself visited the island as a tourist during the kavaru season.
“There were hundreds of people all walking and running, loudly talking, having a gala time. All were walking towards the prawn farms,” he recalls.
“When we reached the spot, many were swimming in the farm, throwing stones and stirring the water. The excitement, though, wasn’t reflected on the faces of those guiding us.”
For Kumbalangi natives, kavaru is nothing new; they have seen it since childhood. “But for us, this was something you only saw in the film ‘Kumbalangi Nights’,” Akhil says.
Released in 2019, the film boosted the popularity of the village. After the Covid years, visitors began arriving from far-off places just to witness the glowing waters. Social media soon filled with images and videos of kavaru — people splashing around in blue luminescence.
“It was absolutely bewitching. And that’s how we ended up here,” Akhil recalls.
But the mood shifted when Akhil noticed the weary faces of farmers and sleep-deprived residents. He and his friend Yedu K C (director of photography and editor of the documentary) returned to Kumbalangi — this time during the day.
“People were reluctant to open up. They were fed up with tourists and cameras,” Akhil smiles ruefully.
“The issue is not tourism itself,” Akhil clarifies, “but the lack of awareness and responsibility. Especially as it also results in monetary loss,” he notes.
To witness bioluminescence, the water here must be stirred. “So people throw stones, stir the water with sticks, even jump into the water. Such acts harm the pisciculture ecosystem,” he says.
Besides Prince, the filmmakers also encountered a woman who had just given birth. “She was suffering from lack of sleep, as nights were loud due to reckless tourists on the roads. We came across many like her,” Akhil recalls. “The locals pay the price of this glow.”
The documentary received a fillip when Lijo Jose Pellissery came on board. “We had sent him the video just to hear his opinion. He liked it so much that he called back the next day to talk about it,” Akhil says.
Despite its serious theme, the film avoids a sombre tone. It flows gently, almost mirroring the luminous waters it portrays.
Meanwhile, Kumbalangi is preparing for another kavaru season. “This year, the kavaru season is yet to pick up in Kumbalangi,” says Lijo Joseph, Ernakulam DTPC Secretary. “It was spotted in only one or two areas. People expect the season to pick up as summer intensifies in April.”
Jijumon M J, a prawn farmer, explains the pattern. “Summer showers reduce salinity. So, kavaru didn’t bloom like in previous years,” he says.
Clarifying that he is not against tourism, Jijumon points out that setting up a prawn farm costs lakhs of rupees. “When people disturb the water, the prawn larvae die, and we lose yield. Sometimes, we let in fresh water to reduce salinity and prevent kavaru from forming to keep the crowd off,” he smiles.
He acknowledges the upside. “Kumbalangi tourism peaks during kavaru season from February to May. It does the local economy,” he says.
Efforts are now underway to strike a balance. M P Sivadathan, president of the Kerala Homestays and Tourism Society, says residents are stepping in. “Locals volunteer to guide visitors. Police help with crowd control,” he says.
“There are kayaking and boat services at night that allow people to experience kavaru without disturbing the farms. Restaurants, homestays, and night-time autorickshaw service flourish during the season. There are a lot of opportunities.”
Panchayat president Shaji Kuruppasery says, a monitoring committee has been created with the participation of local fisherfolk, homestay owners, and other stakeholders to organise tourism activities efficiently and manage the crowd.
Edwin Joseph, owner of a local tourism group named Kayakify that offers guided night tours, says an organised approach ensures that people don’t mindlessly jump into the water. “We also explain bioluminescence, the landscape, and the workings of prawn farms,” he says.
Bijoy K T, a resident here, hopes visitors behave responsibly so that local livelihood is not affected. Moreover, there are boorish groups that booze and babel. Some even throw liquor bottles into the farms.
“The people of Kumbalangi are great hosts. I hope the visitors reciprocate that and behave like guests,” he says. “Because, at the end of the day, this is not a tourism spot for us — this is our home.”