A collection of 122 Malayalam words from a manuscript known as the Roteiro da primeira viagem de Vasco da Gama à Índia (Journal of Vasco da Gama’s first voyage to India)1497–1499, held by the Biblioteca Pública Municipal do Porto under the shelf mark Códice 804 (MS-804) in Portugal, narrates a rarely articulated history of Malayalam in the 15th century. 

This set of non-elite, working class Malayalam from the surviving manuscript dated between 1500 and 1550 and comprising 45 folios -- which also contains an account of de Gama’s maiden voyage to India, descriptions of several eastern kingdoms and details of prices of spices and other commodities -- finds elaborate discussion in Professor Goncalo Fernandes’s article, The First List of Malayalam Words at the End of 15th Century by a Portuguese Seaman. It’s a Malayalam that is capable of describing people, objects, animals, fish, boats, directions, actions, and everyday interaction.  

Words such as Kadal, Kappal, Thandu and Chukkan from the manuscript illustrate an unexplored area of Keralam’s maritime history. When the Portuguese docked in Malabar, these words were already in use. This shows that the maritime awareness of the coast predated the arrival of Europeans.  

Word such as Parayunnu, Thinnunnu, Nadakkunnu, and Kudiykkunnu are from the local register, entirely different from the elite lingo of court records, inscriptions, trade documents and literary works. Portuguese seamen found the commoner using expressions such as po and va. Words for limbs and sensory experiences discussed by Prof. Goncalo in his article suggest how gaze works in historical narratives.  

World Maritime Day, on September 24 this year, celebrates the legacy of ports, trade, and maritime infrastructure. The discussions more often than not exclude the coastal community -- the fish vendors, those who unloaded the cargo, those who ran errands, the ones who helped the seamen from faraway countries understand the seasons, those who found accommodation for them and the like. The manuscript in the Biblioteca Pública Municipal do Porto portrays the role of the commoner in all this.  

More than pepper, spices and the trade, the invisibilised history of ‘Thurakal’ runs deep in Keralam’s maritime legacy. The narrative is absent in academic history. Prof. Goncalo’s article advocates for more social coordinates to cobble together the State’s social landscape as it evolved.  

The paper is also a starting point of maritime linguistics; it sheds light on the way boat builders conducted business, on the lives of fishers, maritime labour, and the like. It also provides a glimpse into the rarely seen vistas of maritime gender history in these parts: the manuscript mentions how the sexual organs of men and women were described in daily lingo. It would be interesting to study the sexuality of these genders in that period.  

The present Keralam government, with its flagship Mission Samudra project, considers the ocean a prime economic zone. While it talks about the blue economy, infrastructure and ocean governance, ocean justice and landscape that are cardinal to the ocean people remain missing from the discourse. More than the tangible objects like infrastructure development and an oceanarium, the intangible history of indigenous ocean knowledge, oral histories, and traditions need attention. Archipelagic and island histories need documentation for posterity.  

The United Nations will be observing the ocean decade from 2030. It’s important to bring to the fore discussions about climate justice and the resilience of the ocean people in the face of rising natural calamities. In the current political scenario of coastal Keralam characterised by tidal floods and sea erosion, there is a need to develop policy with the costal folk at the vanguard. That looks beyond the horizon right now.  

The author is the principal investigator of the Migration Profile of Keralites in Africa Project, an initiative of the Kerala Council For Historical Research and NoRKA.