Latest news with #HarrisKarishma


The Hindu
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Palm dreams and protest songs: Inside Tamil Nadu's toddy festival
It began with one Instagram reel. Harris Karishma, a 17-year-old from Villupuram district, scaled a palmyra tree with ease — and invited the world to join her at the Pana Kanavu Vizha, a day-long celebration of Tamil Nadu's state tree. But this isn't just a festival. It's a protest. And at the heart of it is a call to decriminalise toddy — the mildly intoxicating drink tapped from palmyra trees — and protect a centuries-old community occupation. This video takes you to Narasinganur village, where thousands gather under the palm canopy to dance, picnic, perform silambam, sell palm craft, and raise awareness. With tree-climbing contests, fire-lit performances, and selfie stations in the grove, this year's edition was bigger and bolder than ever before. Reporting: Sanjana Ganesh Video and Production: Shivaraj S


The Hindu
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Meet TN's ‘toddy stars': With social media push, this village protest festival sparks debate
It is 8am and winding roads from Vikravandi toll gate in Villupuram district have led us to a clearing amidst paddy fields. After a three-hour ride from Chennai, we find ourselves at the panankaadu or the palm forest (on April 24) at Narasinganur village. We are here for the Pana Kanavu Vizha or the Palmyra Dream Festival. We are clearly at the right place: the area is teeming with cameras. There are more lenses than people at this point. This is when we go seeking Karishma. Harris Karishma, a young woman who has just finished her Class 12 exams, and is ready to study Botany in Villupuram, is the reason why many people have travelled all the way to the fourth edition of this festival. Until now, the Pana Kanavu Vizha was limited to residents of Villupuram as local media had drummed up some noise about it in the past. But this year, more people know that while the festival celebrates the palmyra, Tamil Nadu's State tree, they also know that it is a protest festival fighting for the legalisation of toddy, a by-product of the tree, in Tamil Nadu. Karishma, in an Instagram reel that has now crossed over 19 lakh views, can be seen scaling the palm tree with an unmatched elan, and inviting people from across the world to participate in the festival held at a relatively obscure location. A tourist would not be here without purpose. Her reel on the Thirukovilur City Instagram page is a reckoner of how this day-long village festival has used social media to bring forth a conversation about a subject rarely spoken of among common folk. Suddenly, everyone has an opinion about the merits of drinking toddy. 'I would often accompany my father to the palm grove and watch him climb. I told him that I wanted to try my hand at it and ended up climbing it with relative ease. I had just watched and learnt,' she says. Karishma is a celebrity here. Dressed in a tracksuit for her silambam performance, she is out on the field giving interviews about the need for legalisation of an occupation practised in her community for years now. She speaks at a selfie station amidst two palms and a clay pot (where toddy is usually stored), that the festival organisers have prepared. 'Even little children are given kallu (toddy) in our village,' she says. That is not all. At the festival, one can choose to scale two trees using ladders and land at two wooden photo points to cosplay toddy tappers. A tourist could visit a station and watch the arduous process of padaneer being converted to palm sugar. In the evening, two highlight events that grab social media eyeballs have been curated. One, a tree climbing competition. The second, an almost mystical coming together of locals and tourists who want to work around palm fronds to create synchronised wisps of fire at night. Each, a sight on its own. The day, however, begins with an oorvalam, a procession around Narasinganur village with drumbeats and dance. For the fruits of the palm, a 'thank you' is in the works through a padayal or an offering to the tree. Pots of toddy are placed before the tree and a fire is lit. A village elder takes the first gulp, signalling the beginning of the festival. Right after, a mad rush ensues. The rest of the festival is spent in people picnicing, watching young girls and boys perform folk dances besides a grievance redressal meet. On the sidelines, several shops selling products made from the palm including jewellery and home articles, are sold. Thousands cue up to buy spring potatoes and kulfi ice. It is a treat for everyone from eight to 80. Breezing in How has the scale of this festival expanded this year? D Pandian, the convenor of the festival and part of the Tamil Nadu Palm Tree Climbers Protection Association has the answer. The first edition of the festival was small and limited to communities that tapped toddy, an activity currently criminalised by the State Government. 'Every year though, it grew and several volunteers who believed in the cause, joined hands. The selfie stations are their ideas. It has clearly helped,' he says. Sher Jon, a resident of Chennai who is at the festival with three other friends, is in a colourful dress, a garment not often witnessed in the village. She says that she has grown up amidst palms and knows the tree intimately as she has often played with it. 'We have palms at my farm too but it's nice to be amidst as many people and trees to witness a festival like this,' she says. Toddy is tapped thrice a day here — in the morning, noon and evening. If you are lucky, you will get to try this sweet, coconut-y fermented white liquid that does not get you immediately high but puts you in a mild state of intoxication. Each tree gives between two and five litres of toddy and each litre here, is priced at ₹100. By evening, when enough people have consumed toddy, the zenith of the festival is reached. To drumbeats, there is dance. Tree climbers from different parts of the State fight for the top prize of ₹10,000. The then sun sets. As the purple and orange of dusk give way to the comfortable dark of the night sky, a slew of village residents and tourists arrange themselves in neat lines do the mavali or karthi. This synchronised movement of palm fronds and palm flowers, is lit with a low fire. A local tradition, usually performed at the adjacent Tiruvannamalai district during the annual girivalam (a religious procession), is a mesmerising dance of what feels like a local cracker. To instructions on a loud speaker that have, until now, heard only the local band's performance of Tamil film classics like 'Manmadha Rasa', a surreal calm takes over. On cue, hundreds raise their palm fronds over their head. Circles of fire light up the sky. The festival has come to an end. When one looks up to see what the night has to say, red and green lights from buzzing surveillance devices, twinkle. Palmyra trees do indeed wish upon drone stars.