Tamil Nadu’s Irular community finds its voice with the Irular Ensemble

At the second edition of Alliance Française of Madras’ extravaganza La Nuit Blanche (Sleepless Night) on October 19, a stage was dedicated to music, another to dance and performance, one to games, and another to sound baths. Culture and conversation went on well into 3am, the following morning. The air was rife with the spirit of youth and the quest for celebration.

Somewhere at the back of the institute, tucked away from the chaos, was a band of 10, getting ready for their second major performance. It was just an inconsequential rehearsal to check if the vocal cords worked well and if the dol kattai (a traditional music instrument) could maintain a steady sense of rhythm.

However, once S Rani began singing and the percussion followed, a silence took over this rehearsal space. A scattered audience distractedly watching other performances, quickly grouped together like ants, mesmerised by the Irular Ensemble.

“This is not the actual performance. Come and watch us later tonight,” Rani announced.

Fifty three-year-old Rani, the lead singer of the Irular Ensemble, has an interesting story to tell. Until a few years ago, the music she sings today about plants, animals and folk deities which has been passed on for generations from her tribal forefathers, would not have been platformed the same way. Nor would it have elicited this Pied Piper-like response from the audience.

Song, dance and cheer at the performance by The Irular Ensemble
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Special Arrangement

“We are part of India’s Scheduled Tribes list and come under the ‘Irular’ category. Traditionally, my grandfather and the generations before him, lived in the forests of Tamil Nadu and some nearby states. Over time, in search of livelihood, we moved out of there. Until then, we lived off forest produce as we worshipped the earth — the honey, animals and everything else we could find — were deemed ours. Things changed though. Once we left the forests, we found ourselves settling outside the society and rarely being part of it,” she says.

The Irular community, a Dravidian ethnic group from Tamil Nadu and parts of Telangana and Kerala, was relegated to function outside of society. They were only employed, with no choice, but to catch rats and snakes, and cut down trees. “We would be called only for such jobs,” Rani says.

It has taken years of coordinated effort, unionising and a steady stab at self-respect, to receive reservation, certificates stating their identity, and concessions for years of injustice towards the community, to get where they are today. It is why themes of social justice, bonded labour and slavery, often make their way into Rani and her troupe’s songs.

Until their performance at Chennai Sangamam earlier this year, the Irular Ensemble, was a scattered group of musicians from the Irular colony at Siruseri who would only band-up to perform during temple festivals. Two annual events — the Chithirai festival and the Masi Magam — are particularly important dates in their calendar. It is when Irulars from across the State would come to the colony, visit their relatives and be part of the festivities. Song, dance and cheer, would be an essential part of the celebration, usually beginning late at night, and gaining a merry audience as time goes by. The community is also known for fashioning their own musical instruments like the dol kattai made of animal hide.

“In our community, the men and women would participate equally. Everyone would sing. Everyone would dance. The banter between the two groups would be an essential part of our performance. It would delight everyone including the performers,” she says.

The repartee is a delight to watch. During one of the songs, Rani’s her co-performer V Venkatesan, says “Ennadi ponne pakare.. sundeli mooji vechu pakare (what are you seeing, young woman, why are you looking at me with a mouse-like face)”, and proceeds to tell her that he will ensure he marries her. She retorts, comparing him to another iteration of a mouse and says that it will not be easy to ask for her hand. “During the thiruvizha, children and elderly people alike, join in to sing. It is such a wonderful celebration. It is what we want to bring to the city too. The response from the audience in the city has been nice to see,” she says.

Rani has been singing since she was 16 and says that she is delighted to see that stories of their land, its people and its natural resources, are finally connecting to a larger audience. “Now, the aim is to travel abroad and take it to a larger audience,” she says. Until then, she says that singing to their local deity Kanniamma, will have to do.