800 Years, One Royal Family And A Kambala That Still Stops Coastal Karnataka

800 Years, One Royal Family And A Kambala That Still Stops Coastal Karnataka

On a December night in Mulki, a quiet town in Coastal Karnataka, long after the coastal humidity has settled into the fields, floodlights switch on across a 20 acre stretch in front of an old Jain palace. The slushy track fills with water, drums begin, conch shells sound, and before anyone else can touch the mud, one pair of buffaloes enters the lane.

They belong to the royal house of Mulki. Their run is always the first. No other buffaloes are allowed to race alongside them. It is a gesture of respect that has survived centuries, even as governments, borders and laws have changed around it.

For more than 800 years, the palace of Mulki and its rulers have been patrons of Kambala. The present royal descendant, M Dugganna Savantharu, known locally as Mulki Seeme Arasaru, continues that line. The family still opens their private land every year to conduct a Kambala that draws lakhs of people from coastal Karnataka and beyond.

800 years of a ruler and his race

Mulki Kambala is not a corporate event or a modern sports property. It is still spoken of as something the arasu does for his people.

For generations, the royal family has treated Kambala as a responsibility as much as a celebration. The 20 acre paddy field in front of their residence is not merely a venue. It is the seasonal stage where the bond between ruler and citizens is acted out in mud, speed and ritual.

Today the face of this tradition is split between two generations. The present arasu, M Dugganna Savantharu, is the symbolic head and spiritual anchor. His son, M Gautham Jain, handles the practical side of running a modern mass event that still wants to feel like an old community festival.

The four faces of Kambala

Any Kambala event follows the classic format with 4 types of races, each with its own rules, equipment and prestige.

Negilu: In this category, a wooden plough called negilu in Kannada is tied to the pair of buffaloes. The runner holds the plough and runs along with the animals across the slushy track. It echoes the image of the farmer behind his plough, turned into a test of speed and coordination.

Halage: Here a flat wooden board or stand is attached behind the buffalo pair. The runner stands on this halage and rides the animals as they charge ahead. Balance and control become as important as the strength of the pair.

Hagga: The rope category has a different set up. The buffaloes are decorated heavily on the face and body. There are junior and senior levels in this type. The quality and richness of the decorations often signal the status and pride of the owners. Haggas are as much about showing off as they are about winning.

Kane Halage: This is the most visually dramatic form. The buffaloes do not just run. As they race down the track, the runner uses the board and the force of their speed to spray water straight up from the slush. The target for the water jet can be as high as 17 feet. Clearing the marked level is a matter of fame for both owner and runner.

Each of these races runs from morning all through the night, with categories divided by type, age and performance.

Who really owns the racing buffaloes

Behind the glamour there is a simple economic fact. It is very expensive to maintain Kambala buffaloes. Feed, training, stables, handlers and health care all add up over the year.

That is why, about 80 percent of the buffaloes that run in Kambala today are owned by groups. They are shared by friends, extended families or small community collectives. Only a small fraction are owned by individual patrons who can afford the full cost alone.

In practice this means that each racing pair carries not just a brand or a bloodline but the combined hopes of many households. Victories, records and even decorations become a shared achievement.

How Mulki Kambala is organised

To handle the modern scale, the family runs the event through an organisation called Mulki Seeme Arasu Kambala Samithi. Gautham Jain leads the preparations.

Track work and invitations begin at least 1 to 2 months before the race. The muddy lanes must be levelled, water channels arranged, lights and sound systems installed and space created for thousands of visitors to stand, sit, eat and watch.

The Kambala runs for 2 days. This year, Gautham says, they plan to hold it on December 28 and 29. Last year, 172 pairs of buffaloes participated. This time they are expecting anywhere between 170 and 200 pairs.

The budget is not small. Last year, total expenses were around Rs 20 to 25 lakh. Prize money is given out in gold. In the coming edition, the organisers plan to distribute about 8.5 pavan(136 grams) of gold in total. Participants register for their chosen categories on the very day of Kambala, adding to the lived drama of the event.

The rituals that come before the race

For the Mulki royal house, Kambala is not just sport. It is framed by a series of rituals that tie it to the layered belief systems of coastal Karnataka.

Before the first buffalo pair enters the track, the family performs daivaradhane, the worship of local deities. This is followed by bhootaradhane, rituals devoted to spirit beings deeply rooted in Tulu and coastal tradition, and nagaradhane, offerings to serpent deities.

Only after these are completed does the race begin. In their telling, the field is not just a track. It is a space that has been handed over to the care of gods, spirits and nagas for the duration of the event.

A Jain ruler, a race and a fast

There is also a quieter, more uneasy layer to the story. The Mulki royal family follows Jainism. Non violence is central to Jain belief. Kambala uses animals. However much organisers insist on care, the race is still a strain on the buffaloes.

Gautham does not dodge this contradiction. He explains that his father, the current arasu, observes upavasa from the start of the Kambala till the end. He does not eat or drink anything for the full duration.

In his words, this is an act of atonement. “He knows that the race can cause suffering to the animals, even if rules are followed and injuries are unintended. The fast is his way of acknowledging that tension between faith and festival, between belief and entertainment."

Gautham puts it simply, “The race began because citizens needed entertainment, and only a ruler had the land, resources and influence to create something on this scale. The moral struggle does not cancel the tradition, but it leaves its mark."

A festival that still belongs to the people

Despite the royal backdrop, Mulki Kambala remains a people driven event. Lakhs of spectators arrive from nearby towns and distant districts. Some come for the spectacle of speed and water, some for the music and food, some just to say they have seen the famous Mulki track under lights.

For local residents, it is also an annual affirmation that their coastal town still has a beating cultural heart. The palace land turns into a common ground where caste lines, political loyalties and economic divides blur briefly in the shared thrill of a close finish or a record water spray.

Why This Kambala still matters

In an era of stadium sports and digital streaming, Kambala feels raw, old and almost stubbornly physical. That is exactly why it draws so many people. It is one of the few spaces where a royal descendant, a software engineer from Mangaluru, a fisherman from a nearby village and a group of buffalo owners can stand in the same slush and shout for the same result.

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Mulki adds another rare dimension. It is not just any Kambala. It is a race where a royal house has kept its promise to a town for about 800 years. Their buffalo pair still runs first, alone, in a lane cleared by time, respect and memory. The rest of the night belongs to the crowd, but that first splash is a reminder.

Before sponsors and viral clips and political speeches, Kambala was simply this. A ruler, his land, his people, his buffaloes and a race that could only exist in this landscape of water and red soil. Mulki has held on to that story, even as the world around it has turned faster than any pair of buffaloes can run.

For more than 800 years, the palace of Mulki and its rulers have been patrons of Kambala. The present royal descendant, M Dugganna Savantharu, known locally as Mulki Seeme Arasaru, continues that line. The family still opens their private land every year to conduct a Kambala that draws lakhs of people from coastal Karnataka and beyond.

800 years of a ruler and his race

Mulki Kambala is not a corporate event or a modern sports property. It is still spoken of as something the arasu does for his people.

For generations, the royal family has treated Kambala as a responsibility as much as a celebration. The 20 acre paddy field in front of their residence is not merely a venue. It is the seasonal stage where the bond between ruler and citizens is acted out in mud, speed and ritual.

Today the face of this tradition is split between two generations. The present arasu, M Dugganna Savantharu, is the symbolic head and spiritual anchor. His son, M Gautham Jain, handles the practical side of running a modern mass event that still wants to feel like an old community festival.

The four faces of Kambala

Any Kambala event follows the classic format with 4 types of races, each with its own rules, equipment and prestige.

Negilu: In this category, a wooden plough called negilu in Kannada is tied to the pair of buffaloes. The runner holds the plough and runs along with the animals across the slushy track. It echoes the image of the farmer behind his plough, turned into a test of speed and coordination.

Halage: Here a flat wooden board or stand is attached behind the buffalo pair. The runner stands on this halage and rides the animals as they charge ahead. Balance and control become as important as the strength of the pair.

Hagga: The rope category has a different set up. The buffaloes are decorated heavily on the face and body. There are junior and senior levels in this type. The quality and richness of the decorations often signal the status and pride of the owners. Haggas are as much about showing off as they are about winning.

Kane Halage: This is the most visually dramatic form. The buffaloes do not just run. As they race down the track, the runner uses the board and the force of their speed to spray water straight up from the slush. The target for the water jet can be as high as 17 feet. Clearing the marked level is a matter of fame for both owner and runner.

Each of these races runs from morning all through the night, with categories divided by type, age and performance.

Who really owns the racing buffaloes

Behind the glamour there is a simple economic fact. It is very expensive to maintain Kambala buffaloes. Feed, training, stables, handlers and health care all add up over the year.

That is why, about 80 percent of the buffaloes that run in Kambala today are owned by groups. They are shared by friends, extended families or small community collectives. Only a small fraction are owned by individual patrons who can afford the full cost alone.

In practice this means that each racing pair carries not just a brand or a bloodline but the combined hopes of many households. Victories, records and even decorations become a shared achievement.

How Mulki Kambala is organised

To handle the modern scale, the family runs the event through an organisation called Mulki Seeme Arasu Kambala Samithi. Gautham Jain leads the preparations.

Track work and invitations begin at least 1 to 2 months before the race. The muddy lanes must be levelled, water channels arranged, lights and sound systems installed and space created for thousands of visitors to stand, sit, eat and watch.

The Kambala runs for 2 days. This year, Gautham says, they plan to hold it on December 28 and 29. Last year, 172 pairs of buffaloes participated. This time they are expecting anywhere between 170 and 200 pairs.

The budget is not small. Last year, total expenses were around Rs 20 to 25 lakh. Prize money is given out in gold. In the coming edition, the organisers plan to distribute about 8.5 pavan(136 grams) of gold in total. Participants register for their chosen categories on the very day of Kambala, adding to the lived drama of the event.

The rituals that come before the race

For the Mulki royal house, Kambala is not just sport. It is framed by a series of rituals that tie it to the layered belief systems of coastal Karnataka.

Before the first buffalo pair enters the track, the family performs daivaradhane, the worship of local deities. This is followed by bhootaradhane, rituals devoted to spirit beings deeply rooted in Tulu and coastal tradition, and nagaradhane, offerings to serpent deities.

Only after these are completed does the race begin. In their telling, the field is not just a track. It is a space that has been handed over to the care of gods, spirits and nagas for the duration of the event.

A Jain ruler, a race and a fast

There is also a quieter, more uneasy layer to the story. The Mulki royal family follows Jainism. Non violence is central to Jain belief. Kambala uses animals. However much organisers insist on care, the race is still a strain on the buffaloes.

Gautham does not dodge this contradiction. He explains that his father, the current arasu, observes upavasa from the start of the Kambala till the end. He does not eat or drink anything for the full duration.

In his words, this is an act of atonement. “He knows that the race can cause suffering to the animals, even if rules are followed and injuries are unintended. The fast is his way of acknowledging that tension between faith and festival, between belief and entertainment.”

Gautham puts it simply, “The race began because citizens needed entertainment, and only a ruler had the land, resources and influence to create something on this scale. The moral struggle does not cancel the tradition, but it leaves its mark.”

A festival that still belongs to the people

Despite the royal backdrop, Mulki Kambala remains a people driven event. Lakhs of spectators arrive from nearby towns and distant districts. Some come for the spectacle of speed and water, some for the music and food, some just to say they have seen the famous Mulki track under lights.

For local residents, it is also an annual affirmation that their coastal town still has a beating cultural heart. The palace land turns into a common ground where caste lines, political loyalties and economic divides blur briefly in the shared thrill of a close finish or a record water spray.

Why This Kambala still matters

In an era of stadium sports and digital streaming, Kambala feels raw, old and almost stubbornly physical. That is exactly why it draws so many people. It is one of the few spaces where a royal descendant, a software engineer from Mangaluru, a fisherman from a nearby village and a group of buffalo owners can stand in the same slush and shout for the same result.

Mulki adds another rare dimension. It is not just any Kambala. It is a race where a royal house has kept its promise to a town for about 800 years. Their buffalo pair still runs first, alone, in a lane cleared by time, respect and memory. The rest of the night belongs to the crowd, but that first splash is a reminder.

Before sponsors and viral clips and political speeches, Kambala was simply this. A ruler, his land, his people, his buffaloes and a race that could only exist in this landscape of water and red soil. Mulki has held on to that story, even as the world around it has turned faster than any pair of buffaloes can run.

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Source: News18
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