Sacred Silhouettes : The Craft, Culture, and Continuance of Indian Shadow Puppetry

In the quiet space behind a glowing screen, a figure moves. A prince stands. An animal leaps. A demon falls. What the audience sees are silhouettes—but what animates the silhouette is centuries of ritual, technique, and inherited knowledge. Indian shadow puppetry is not a decorative tradition. It is a system of storytelling, a sculptural language, and a devotional practice. Across regions, it shares a common grammar of sources, thematic elements, ritualistic purposes, and performance styles, though these are expressed through distinct regional aesthetics. This unifying artistic heritage is rooted in ancient traditions and a shared worldview that integrates storytelling, religion, and social commentary.

Historical Origins and Crafting Techniques:

Shadow puppetry flourished in southern India by the 3rd century CE, notably in Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka. References appear in a 1208 CE inscription and the 13th-century Panditaradhya Charitra, describing Shaivite performances. Royal patrons like Krishnadevaraya supported temple puppeteers—bommalata vallu—who preserved oral techniques, dialects, and ritual codes. While Kerala, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, and Odisha dominate, Tamil Nadu’s Thol Bommalattam blends shadow and string puppetry, and Maharashtra’s Chitrakathi combines scrolls with leather figures, sharing epic narratives.

The terms for shadow puppetry Tōlpāvakkūttu and Togalu Gombeyaata, means “dance/play of leather puppets.” The puppets historically were crafted from antelope or deer hide, which has now changed to the use goat, sheep, or buffalo skin due to wildlife laws, while keeping ritual reverence.

Regional Variants: Aesthetic Logic and Cultural Function:

Each region’s puppetry tradition reflects embodies its unique worldview and theatrical style

• Kerala :

Tōlpāvakkūttu

Performed in temple precincts, often over 21 nights, this form narrates the Ramayana in a Tamil-Malayalam hybrid. Puppets are cut from thick leather, relying on shadow contrast rather than color. Movable limbs are rare; the emphasis is on ritual precision and narrative gravity.

• Karnataka –

Togalu Gombeyaata

Known for vibrant, translucent parchment puppets, this form uses scale symbolically larger figures for gods, smaller for mortals. Demonic characters may feature real hair. Articulation is extensive, allowing dynamic movement and scenic variation.

• Andhra Pradesh –

Tholu Bommalata

This form uses large, vividly painted leather puppets, often over a meter tall. Performances are accompanied by classical music and Telugu narration, with elaborate choreography and dramatic pacing. The figures are highly articulated, enabling expressive combat and dance sequences.

• Odisha –

Ravanchhaya

 A minimalist style using unjointed black silhouettes cut from deer skin. The aesthetic is poetic and abstract, with emphasis on gesture and rhythm rather than realism. The narration is lyrical, often philosophical, and the figures include symbolic elements like trees or animals.

These traditions are not interchangeable. Each encodes regional values, linguistic nuance, and theological interpretation. Together, they form a cartography of visual thought.

The Ritual of Creation:

The making of a puppet is not merely craft—it is consecration. Artisans, often puppeteers themselves, trace the outline of a new figure onto prepared hide, cut, pierce, and paint it. While traditional dyes came from minerals and plants, most artists now use synthetic pigments. Kerala puppets, though opaque, often feature more elaborate coloration than their translucent counterparts in Karnataka—a testament to the maker’s internal logic rather than audience visibility.

The final stage is sacred: carving the eyes, believed to animate the puppet and grant it the capacity to see and breathe. This act is often accompanied by prayers or ritual gestures. Once complete, the puppet is mounted on a bamboo or wooden rod, with additional supports for wider figures or movable limbs.

A Kerala troupe may require over 130 puppets to perform the Ramayana in its entirety, with key characters appearing in multiple versions. Some figures serve double roles, their identities shifting with context and costume. These are not disposable objects—a single puppet may be used for decades, even a century, with careful maintenance. When a puppet is beyond repair, it is given a ritual, almost funerary farewell, sometimes immersed in a river.

Subjects of the Play: Epics, Myths, and Legends

Shadow puppetry traditionally draws from sacred texts and oral lore: Kerala’s Tōlpāvakkūttu centers on the Ramayana as a devotional offering to Bhadrakali; Andhra Pradesh’s Tholu Bommalata adapts Mahabharata episodes into musical sequences; Odisha and Karnataka incorporate local myths and temple legends; moral tales and Panchatantra fables serve educational purposes; and modern adaptations introduce contemporary allegories. These narratives are continually reinterpreted through gesture, rhythm, and voice, making each performance a living act of cultural transmission.

Modern Adaptations: Innovation and Survival

To stay relevant, puppeteers now use contemporary themes like social justice and environmental issues, integrate technology (LEDs, sound systems), shorten performances for modern venues, add multilingual narration, and embrace diversity through women performers and global collaborations.These innovations are strategic evolutions, allowing the art to speak across generations and geographies. Notable figures like Ramachandra Pulavar and Rajitha Pulavar have modernized the form, while S. Appanna continues the Tholu Bommalata tradition, training youth and performing internationally.

Audience Engagement and Preservation:

Modern puppetry fosters interaction through narration, Q&A, school workshops, museum demos, festival displays, and online streaming, with children’s epics blending education and entertainment. Preservation efforts involve organizations like Sangeet Natak Akademi (grants, documentation), IGNCA (archival research), festivals such as Dhaatu and International Puppet Festival, and museums including Chitrakala Parishat and MAP Bengaluru.

What must endure:

To speak of shadow puppetry today is to confront a paradox. These traditions are technically demanding, philosophically rich, and historically layered—yet they are often relegated to the margins of cultural policy and public imagination. Their survival depends not on sentimentality, but on structural support: documentation, pedagogy, patronage, and platforms for contemporary relevance. To see these puppets as mere shadows of the past is to miss their enduring function. They are tools of interpretation—visual instruments that teach us how stories move, how characters evolve, and how meaning is shaped not just by what is shown, but by what is retained. Preserving them is not about nostalgia. It is about sustaining a visual language that values nuance, rhythm, and relational depth. If these traditions endure, it will be because we recognize their relevance—not as echoes of a vanished world, but as vital, evolving forms that continue to shape how we imagine, remember, and connect. In every flicker behind the screen, there is a reminder: stories survive not by resisting change, but by embracing it—illuminating innovative ideas for each generation to interpret and cherish.

Shantala Kaikini