Rajeev grew up in Koonathara, in a house where performances often ran past midnight. He watched from the wings no classroom, no formal training, just presence.

"I don't remember a day when Tholpavakoothu entered my life. It was always around me, in performances, temple spaces, conversations, everyday life.

The quiet of the night... the sound of the wind... temple surroundings... those moments stay with me.

"Every time I light the lamp, I'm reminded of everyone who came before me. But once the performance begins, it's just me, the puppets, and the story."

SAPGRAIN FIELD NOTE · 01

We expected to hear stories about the puppets.

Instead, Rajeev picked up his tools.

Before speaking about the tradition, he began demonstrating how a leather puppet is cut, carved, and assembled by hand.

Watching him work reminded us that Tholpavakoothu isn't preserved through conversation alone—it survives because artists continue to make, repair, and perform.

Rajeev belongs to the 14th generation of the Pulavar family, a lineage that has carried Tholpavakoothu across generations.

Long before Rajeev stepped behind the illuminated screen, his grandfather, Krishnankutty Pulavar, dedicated himself to rebuilding the tradition during a period when the art form had fallen into decline. His work laid the foundation for its revival and ensured that the practice continued into another generation.

That commitment was carried forward by Rajeev's father, Padma Shri K.K. Ramachandra Pulavar, whose work brought Tholpavakoothu beyond temple precincts and introduced it to audiences across India and abroad. His contributions were recognised with the Padma Shri, one of India's highest civilian honours.

For Rajeev, inheritance was never just about learning an art form. It meant growing up around people who believed traditions survive only when they continue to evolve.