Kori Katta-the folk game

Vidya Shankar Shetty
4 min readMar 24, 2023

The cock strutted ahead followed by the clucking hens, narcissist in his strut as he flapped his feathers. I watched him cross the mountainous road across the temple yard. I pitied his false feeling of having wooed all the hens who followed him and was amazed at his skills of bullying the other birds. Little does he know, I thought to myself, that a few months later he would be tethered and cursed with the struggle to free himself. I could visualise him peck on the remnants of grain thrown around him, clucking desperately to garner the attention of the hens that choose to ignore his presence. His diet of red chillies, of almond, of cashew or the special feed and concoctions would not appeal to the hens or to the rest of the yard animals. His self-esteem, his pride would be crushed if he did not perform at the cockpit arena. His was a rare breed is what he thought and his skill the best, as he chased the cats and dogs of the farm yard, bullying them and terrifying them with his wrath, whenever they came close to his favourite hen. As the master laughed and took pride in his bravery; little did he realise that he was being reared as a special breed rooster for the cockfights that would be the spotlight at the religious affair in the temple.

The ‘Kori katta’ or the cock fight, the famous folk sport of the coastal parts of Karnataka: Mangalore, Udupi and Kundapura had these organized fights during religious festivals. Well within an organized system, this cock would have to brave his opponents. Fair play is what his master would insist on, he would face a rooster with the body weight just as his and the rules of the game would be specified to all. The decision would be that of his master’s on whether he would face one cock or two or more. The fight would not exceed more than three rounds. Either he could run away or could be injured during the fight or die fighting.

The only self-destructive weapon he would have on him would be the ‘baal’, a special knife, all of 6 inches. Like the Roman soldiers he would be let loose in battle in a less than 100ft arena. His anger, cultured after being tethered in the yard for months, would be to brutally massacre his opponents. Would he in the arena even get any time to remember how his hens followed him in the farmyard, of how he was admired by the farmer and his family, of how he had attacked the weakest of all the animals and also small children who stood by to admire his height and colour in the yard while in power?

In the arena, what would matter would be his readiness to fight, to fight the weaker ones first and then face the strongest bird. His aggression would now be to his advantage or his disadvantage as he takes strength from all the special dietary concoctions and spices that he was fed with. His opponents could be from a variety of breeds: Kemmaire, Kadla, Karbula, Kornge, Manjele, Peradinge, Uriye…well the list could continue. The knife would determine it all along with his aggressions.

The winner would take it all. If the rooster is dead, he would become the property of the winning rooster’s owner. His meat would be served at dinner after being skinned. People who would be invited as guests to taste this meat would compliment the lady of the house before leaving and remember the taste.

As he is knocked down, thought I, he would be comparable to Ozymandias, the King of Kings, from Shelley’s poem:

Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

After having established his dominance within a group, the severity of it all is to be killed whether a winner or a loser. With the natural habit of pecking, this rooster I thought had got into the habit of squabbling with all the other animals. Something that happens in an organized societal structure too. The baseless frustrations that humanity takes it out on the weaker. Their use of power to satisfy their shortcomings. Well, somewhere the reality has to dawn, that when you lose power, when the opponent stands up to you and defeats you, you will be left with no place to go……..

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Vidya Shankar Shetty
Vidya Shankar Shetty

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Nice Blog!

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