In the Godāvari district, a sorcerer known as the Ejjugadu (male physician) is believed, out of spite or for payment, to kill another by invoking the gods. He goes to a green tree, and there spreads muggu or chunam (lime) powder, and places an effigy of the intended victim thereon. He also places a bow and arrow there, and recites certain spells, and calls on the gods. The victim is said to die in a couple of days. But, if he understands that the Ejjugadu has thus invoked the gods, he may inform another Ejjugadu, who will carry out similar operations under another tree. His bow and arrow will go to those of the first Ejjugadu, and the two bows and arrows will fight as long as the spell remains. The man will then be safe. The second Ejjugadu can give the name of the first, though he has never known him.
“The leading man,” the Rev. J. Cain writes, “of the Koyi samatu is called the Samatu Dora, and he is assisted by two others, who are called Pettandarulu. The duties of the Samatu Dora are to preside over all meetings, to settle all tribal disputes, and to inflict fines for all breaches of caste rules, of which fines he always receives a certain share. The office is not necessarily hereditary, and the appointment is generally confirmed by the landlord of the majority of the villages, be the landlord the Zemindar or the Government.”
The Koyis say that their dance is copied from Bhīma’s march after a certain enemy. The dance is described by Mr. G. F. Paddison as being “a very merry business. They sing for a couple of beats, and then take two steps round, and sing again. They first sang to us a song in their own lingo, and then broke into Telugu ‘Dora Bābu yemi istavu’—What will the great man give us? They then burst into a delightful Autolycus song, ‘Will you give us a cloth, a jewel for the hair?‘ and so on.”
For the following account of a dance at the Bhūdēvi Pandaga festival at Ankagudem in the Polavaram tāluk of the Godāvari district, I am indebted to Mr. N. E. Marjoribanks. “Permission having been given to dance in our presence, the whole village turned out, and came to our camp. First came about half a dozen young men, got up in their best clothes, with big metal ear-rings, basket caps adorned with buffalo horns and pendants of peacock skins (the neck feathers), and scanty torn cloths, and provided, some with barrel-shaped tom-toms, others with old rusty flintlocks, and swords. Next came all the adult women, two by two, each pair clasping hands, and hanging on to the next pair by holding their waist-cloths with their free hands. The young men kept up a steady monotonous beat on their drums, and went through various pantomimes of the chase, e.g., shooting and cutting up an animal, or a fight between two bulls. The women sang a chaunt, and came along slowly, taking one step back after two steps forwards, copied by the village old men, women, and children. At the camp, the women went round in this fashion in circles, the pantomime among the men continuing, and each vying with the others in suggesting fresh incidents. The women then went through a series of figures. First the older ones stood in a circle with their arms intertwined, and the younger girls perched aloft, standing astraddle on their shoulders. Like this the circle proceeded half round, and then back again till some of the smaller girls looked as if they would split in half, their discomfort causing great merriment among the others. Next all stood in a circle, and jumped round, two steps one way and then back. This was varied by a backwards and forwards movement, the chaunt continuing all the time. Inām (present of money) having been duly disbursed, the double chain of women went round the camp twice, and made off to the village, all standing and raising a shout twice as they turned out of the circle to go. The next day, we were told that the men of the village were all going hunting in the forest. About the middle of the day, we saw a procession approaching as on the previous day, but it consisted entirely of women, the drummers and swordsmen being women dressed up as men. The chaunt and dance were as before, except that the pantomime abounded in the most indecent gestures and attitudes, all illustrative of sexual relations. One girl slipped (or pretended to) and fell. Whereupon, one of those playing a man’s part fell upon her to ravish her. A rescue ensued amidst roars of merriment, and the would-be ravisher was in process of being stripped when our modesty compelled us to call an interval. In the evening the men returned unsuccessful, and, we were told (but did not see it), were pelted with dung and rubbish. The next day they went out again, and so did we. Our beats yielded nothing, and we returned to find to our horror the women of the village awaiting our return. Fortunately we had noticed some whistling teal on a tank, and had shot some for the pot. I verily believe this glorious bag was our salvation from dire humiliation. The same dance and antics were repeated round the bodies of the two tigers and panther that we shot during our stay. The Koyis insisted on singeing the whiskers of the beasts, saying we should never get any more if this was not done. Of course we reduced the ceremony to the barest form.” I gather that, if the Koyis shoot a sāmbar (deer) or ‘bison,’ the head is stuck up on the outskirts of the village, and there are very few villages, which have not got one or two such trophies. Besides beating for game, the Koyis sit up at night over salt-licks or water, and thus secure their game.”
It is recorded in the Catalogue Raisonné of Oriental Manuscripts[25] that “the Coya people reside within their forest boundaries. If any traveller attempt to pluck fruit from any tree, his hand is fastened to the spot, so that he cannot move; but if, on seeing any one of the Coya people, he calls out to that person, explaining his wishes, and gets permission, then he can take the fruit and move away, while the Coya forester, on the receipt of a small roll of tobacco leaf, is abundantly gratified. Besides which, the Coya people eat snakes. About forty years since, a Brāhman saw a person cooking snakes for food, and, expressing great astonishment, was told by the forester that these were mere worms; that, if he wished to see a serpent, one should be shown him; but that, as for themselves, secured by the potent charms taught them by Ambikēsvarer, they feared no serpents. As the Brāhman desired to see this large serpent, a child was sent with a bundle of straw and a winnowing fan, who went, accompanied by the Brāhman, into the depths of the forest, and, putting the straw on the mouth of a hole, commenced winnowing, when smoke of continually varying colours arose, followed by bright flame, in the midst of which a monstrous serpent having seven heads was seen. The Brāhman was speechless with terror at the sight, and, being conducted back by the child, was dismissed with presents of fruits.”
The Mission school at Dummagudem in the Godāvari district, where the Rev. J. Cain has laboured so long and so well, was primarily intended for Koyis, but I gather that it has been more successful in dealing with the Mālas. In 1905, the lower primary school at Butchampet in the Kistna district was chiefly attended by Koyi children.
Kōyippuram.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.
Krishnavakakkar.—The Krishnavakakkars are, in Travancore, practically confined to the southern taluks of Eraniel and Kalkulam. The caste name literally means belonging to Krishna, but probably means nothing more than belonging to the pastoral class, as the titular suffixes, Ayan and Acchi, to the names of males and females, found in the early settlement accounts of the State, indicate. In modern times the title Pillai has been adopted. By some castes, e.g., the Shānars, they are called Kuruppu.
The tradition is that, in ancient times, a large section of them migrated from Ambādi, the place of Krishna’s nativity and early childhood, to Conjeeveram, in the vicinity of which place there is still a village called Ayarpati. Here they resided for some time, and then seventy-two families, seeking fresh fields and pastures new, proceeded to Kērala, and presented an image of Krishna, which they had brought from northern India to the reigning king Mahārāja Udaya Martanda Varma. According to another account, the recipient of the image was one Pallivana Perumal at an earlier date. The Mahārāja, according to the legend, observing the interesting customs of the immigrants, and especially their devotion to Krishna, called them Krishnanvaka, and ordered them to serve in the temple of Krishna (Tiruvampadi within the pagoda of Sri Padmanābha at Trivandrum). Their leader was given the title of Ananthapadmanābha Kshētra Pallava Rāyan. This migration is supposed to have occurred in the first year of the Malabar era. A neet, or royal grant, engraved on a copper plate, was issued to them, by which they were entrusted with the management of the temple, and commanded to live at Vanchiyūr in Trivandrum. In the pollution consequent on a birth or death among the seventy-two families, the image of Krishna, which they had brought, was believed to share for three days as a distant relation, and, in consequence, the daily ceremonies at the temple were constantly interrupted. They were told to remove to a place separated from Trivandrum by at least three rivers, and settled in the Eraniel and Kalkulam taluks. They were, as a tax in kind for lands given to them for cultivation, ordered to supply peas for the Tiruvampati temple. During the reign of Martanda Varma the Great, from 904 to 933 M.E., successive neets were issued, entrusting them with diverse duties at this temple. Such, briefly, is the tradition as to the early history of the caste in Travancore. The title Pallava Rāyan (chief of the Pallavans) seems to indicate the country, from which they originally came. They must have been originally a pastoral class, and they probably proceeded from Conjeeveram, the capital of the Pallavas, to Travancore, where, being worshippers of Vishnu, they were entrusted with the discharge of certain duties at the shrine of Krishna in Trivandrum.
The Krishnavakakkar are not strict vegetarians, as fish constitutes a favourite diet. Intoxicating liquors are forbidden, and rarely drunk. In respect to clothing and ornaments, those who follow the makkathāyam system of inheritance (from father to son) differ from those who follow the marumakkathāyam system (through the female line), the former resembling the Vellālas in these matters, and the latter the Nāyars. The only peculiarity about the former is the wearing of the mukkuthi (nose ornament), characteristic till recently of all Nāyar women in south Travancore, in addition to the ordinary ornaments of Chettis and other Tamilians. Widows, too, like the latter, are dressed in white, and the pampadam and melitu in the ears form their only ornaments. They tie up their hair, not in front like Nāyar women, nor at the back like Tamil women, but in the middle line above the crown—the result of a blend between an indigenous and exotic custom. The hair is passed through a cadjan ring secured by a ring of beads, and wound round it. The ring is decorated with arali (Nerium odorum) flowers. Tattooing was very common among women in former times, but is going out of fashion.