The idea first struck me on a humid summer afternoon as I wandered through a dimly lit gallery in Hyderabad, where vibrant Cheriyal masks adorned the walls. These masks, bursting with life and color, each told a tale of Telangana’s folklore. As I stood there, absorbing their intricate details, a thought fluttered in my mind like a mischievous breeze—what if I combined this art form with something equally expressive but vastly different?
That was the moment of inception, the very seed of an experiment that would blend the evocative Navarasa expressions, predominant in Kerala’s Mural paintings, with the dramatic grandeur of Cheriyal masks. A fusion that had never been attempted before. A creative odyssey had begun.
The Spark: An Artist’s Dilemma and an Uncharted Path
As an artist, my mind is a cauldron of ideas constantly brewing, some bubbling over, some fizzling out before they even take form. But this one—this was different. It had a pulse, an irresistible magnetism. The nine Rasas, or emotions, form the essence of classical Indian aesthetics:
- Shringara (Love)
- Hasya (Laughter)
- Karuna (Compassion)
- Raudra (Anger)
- Veera (Courage)
- Bhayanaka (Fear)
- Bibhatsa (Disgust)
- Adbhuta (Wonder)
- Shanta (Peace)
Kerala’s mural art, dating back to the 9th century, captured these Navarasas in exquisite, rhythmic strokes, with each deity’s expression a silent but powerful narrative. Meanwhile, Cheriyal masks, rooted in Telangana’s storytelling tradition, were expressions themselves, primarily used in theatrical performances, mythological plays, and village storytelling traditions.
I had always admired both art forms independently, but it was their ability to convey emotions so vividly that captivated me. If I could fuse them—preserving the storytelling prowess of Cheriyal and the deeply emotive Navarasa—what a symphony of expression it could be!
The Journey Begins: Sketching the First Fusion Mask
The excitement of exploration often comes with the weight of doubt. Would this fusion make sense to those who revere these art forms in their purest forms? Would it be seen as a disrespectful distortion rather than an innovative tribute?
Nonetheless, I allowed myself to drown in colors, in lines, in legends. Since EthniiChic already had the Cheriyal Mask DIY Kit in its product line, the unpainted raw masks were readily available to me for the experiment. I started with Shringara, the rasa of love. I decided to give a complete new look to the Cheriyal mask, making it in natural skin tone. The first mask I painted was a female mask, inspired by Radha, her eyes elongated in a dreamy haze, her lips curved in a subtle smile, reminiscent of Kerala’s murals. Yet, her face was carved in the distinct rounded style of Cheriyal masks. She was neither just Kerala’s nor entirely Telangana’s—she was something new.
And just like that, the floodgates had opened.
The Nine Rasas Come to Life
Over the next few days, I worked tirelessly. Each mask had to encapsulate the soul of the Navarasa, while also preserving the aesthetic integrity of both traditions. The expressions were borrowed from mural art, while the storytelling spirit came from Cheriyal masks.
- Hasya (Laughter): A jovial Male mask, inspired by Krishna, with playful mischief in his eyes, his cheeks slightly puffed as if he were suppressing a giggle.
- Karuna (Compassion): A mother’s face, inspired by Parvati, cradling an invisible infant, her sorrow etched into her tender gaze.
- Raudra (Anger): An enraged Kali, her eyes fierce, teeth bared in raw energy, a sharp departure from the softer faces of traditional Cheriyal masks.
- Veera (Courage): Hanuman, his face marked with determination, embodying bravery, painted in the expressions of murals but sculpted in the rounded Cheriyal form.
Each mask became a piece of my soul. I wasn’t just painting; I was telling a new story through an ancient language.
The Ripple Effect: Where the Fusion Led Me
Months after the exhibition, I received an unexpected invitation. A group of young artists wanted to learn this fusion technique. Soon, a workshop was born, where students experimented with blending mural strokes on mask surfaces, where expressions from one tradition found a home in another.
Traditionalists might argue that I strayed too far, that each art form should remain untouched. But I believe that traditions thrive when they evolve. Hadn’t Cheriyal itself once been influenced by scroll painting? Hadn’t Kerala’s murals evolved from temple walls to modern canvases?
And when we launched this Navarasa Set of 9 Cheriyal masks, the online community embraced it with complete acceptance of something innovative, that never existed before. The reactions were validating. I realized that emotions transcend form. Art speaks—whether through a mask or a mural, whether in Telangana or Kerala. Those who were oblivious of Kerala Mural or Cheriyal Scroll painting, too accepted this art, be it Classical Dancers or Art Enthusiasts.
A Legacy in the Making
Today, as I run my fingers over the latest mask I’ve painted, I feel a quiet satisfaction. What began as a fleeting idea in a dimly lit gallery became an exploration of cultural convergence.
This journey was never just about masks or murals. It was about storytelling in its rawest, purest form. A testament to how two distinct traditions, when intertwined with respect and passion, can birth something refreshingly new.
And so, the dance of colors continues. The eyes of Radha, the laughter of Krishna, the fury of Kali—all whispering tales in this vibrant marriage of art forms. And I, merely a medium, let them speak.
