KANNUR: For Portuguese theatre practitioner and researcher Filipe Pereira, theyyam was never just a spectacle. It became faith, family, and a recurring homecoming. While visitors from across the world gather in kavus across Kannur and neighbouring districts to witness the ritual performance where a mortal transforms into a deity, Pereira stepped beyond observation into devotion. And now, he is not merely a scholar of theyyam, but a believer in Kannur’s own Muthappan.
On Saturday, that devotion found expression at the Vengara Thekeel Tharavadu Muthappan Podikkalam. During the Muthappan theyyam performance, it was a deeply personal moment for the 63-year-old — once a non-believer. The ritual was sponsored by him as an offering in gratitude for the blessing of a child he and his wife, Madina Ziganshina, a Russian artist, had long prayed for. When the deity, in full theyyam form, lifted and blessed their son, the couple stood in quiet reflection, recalling their long journey to find solace in Muthappan.
For the past four years, Pereira has been sponsoring a Muthappan Theyyam at the Vengara Thekeel Tharavadu Muthappan Podikkalam at two-year intervals. Continuing the tradition, he and his family arrived in Vengara nearly a month ago to prepare for this year’s offering.
Pereira first travelled to Kannur 12 years ago, driven by academic interest. A performer, theatre director, and researcher in the ethnography of performance, he had come to understand what makes theyyam one of the most intense ritual art forms in the world. What he encountered was more than performance.
He was captivated by the moment when a performer, adorned in elaborate costume and makeup, ceases to be a person and is received as a living deity. The experience altered the course of his research, and eventually, his life. He returned again and again, each visit deepening his connection.
In time, theyyam moved from field notes to faith. Pereira incorporated the ritual into his doctoral research and later produced a documentary titled ‘Theyyam, The Dancing Gods’, exploring its spiritual and performative dimensions.
“Theyyam is not merely a representation,” Pereira said.
“It is a living god or goddess present before the believers, and everyone behaves according to that belief.”
His personal life too became intertwined with Malabar. Pereira and Ziganshina now travel with their two-year-old son, Fabio, who has already grown familiar with temple grounds and midnight rituals.
“It has been 12 years since I began visiting Kannur to witness theyyam. Beyond a performance, I see the magic of a human being transforming into a deity. I am a firm believer of Muthappan. I visit once every two years to witness the ritual and document it. Every season feels like coming home,” Pereira said.
Santhosh Vengara, who hosts the family during their stays, recalls how devotion followed a moment of crisis.
“Filipe stays with us like a member of the family. A few years ago, he fell seriously ill. We suggested offering a Muthappan Theyyam, seeking blessings. After the offering, his illness was cured. From then on, his faith only grew stronger. This year’s offering is for the well-being of his son Fabio,” Santhosh said.
The bond extends beyond ritual. Ziganshina, an accomplished painter, organised an exhibition in Kannur and Dubai in 2017 featuring portraits of people and theyyams she met during her stays in the district. The family spends most of their time visiting theyyam kavus, engaging with local communities and immersing themselves in the culture.
Even young Fabio has caught the rhythm. “Day or night, he insists on coming along to the kavus,” Santhosh said.