Koththamalli Lyrics by Gypsies

Why pay money for all sorts of medicines?
Why spend cash (big money)?
Any illness gets better
if you drink koththamalli (coriander tea)
The best coriander
is said to be in Romania
And the one who brings it to Sri Lanka
is our brother Amal
The one who brings it to Sri Lanka
is our brother Amal

Let’s drink koththamalli
What do we need whisky and brandy for? //
Drink up, little sister, little brother
everyone, koththamalli
For your illness, for your sorrow
the thing that comes to your aid
is koththamalli

Back in our childhood
whenever we ran a little fever
I remember the times
my mother gave us koththamalli to drink
For every illness we caught
the one and only medicine my mother gave
was koththamalli

To stay young, some people
swallow vitamin pills (vitamin pills)
Working out and working out,
some end up out of breath (oh, out of breath)
Without doing any of that stuff,
he stays looking like a young lad
I still, morning and evening,
drink my koththamalli
(Even though he’s past fifty,
he’s still perfectly fit)

Let’s drink koththamalli
What do we need whisky and brandy for? //
Drink up, little sister, little brother
everyone, koththamalli
For your illness, for your sorrow
the thing that comes to your aid
is koththamalli

Back in our childhood
whenever we ran a little fever
I remember the times
my mother gave us koththamalli to drink
For every illness we caught
the one and only medicine my mother gave
was koththamalli

Let’s drink koththamalli
What do we need whisky and brandy for? //
Drink up, little sister, little brother
everyone, koththamalli
For your illness, for your sorrow
the thing that comes to your aid
is koththamalli

Back in our childhood
whenever we ran a little fever
I remember the times
my mother gave us koththamalli to drink
For every illness we caught
the one and only medicine my mother gave
was koththamalli

Let’s drink koththamalli
What do we need whisky and brandy for?
No need for soda or shandy
Let’s drink koththamalli neat
No ice cubes, little brother
Drink it piping hot, little brother
Even if you drink koththamalli
you won’t get drunk, little brother

For every illness we caught
the one and only medicine my mother gave
was koththamalli

An end to getting drunk.

This is a cheerful, tongue in cheek song in praise of koththamalli, the coriander tea that almost every Sri Lankan grew up drinking. When you catch a cold or a fever at home, someone boils coriander seeds (sometimes with ginger and a bit of jaggery) into a hot, fragrant brew and hands it to you. It is the classic home remedy, the first thing reached for before anyone thinks of a doctor or a pharmacy. The whole song turns that humble cup into the hero.

The joke runs through every verse. Why waste big money on all kinds of pills and tonics, it asks, when any ailment can be eased by a cup of koththamalli? It even teases that the finest coriander comes all the way from Romania, brought in by “our brother Amal,” a playful, mock advertisement aimed straight at the listener. The real punchline, though, is the swap it keeps proposing. Forget whisky and brandy, forget soda and shandy and ice cubes, just pour the koththamalli neat and drink it piping hot. The drinking song format is borrowed on purpose, with the band rallying everyone, “little sister, little brother,” to raise a cup, except the cup holds harmless coriander tea instead of liquor.

Underneath the fun there is a warm thread of memory. The singer thinks back to childhood, to the times his mother brewed koththamalli for him whenever he fell ill, the one medicine she trusted for everything. He pokes fun at people who chase youth with vitamin pills and gym workouts until they are gasping for breath, while he, past fifty and doing none of that, stays fit and young simply by sticking to his morning and evening cup.

The last line, “matata thitha,” means “a full stop to intoxication,” and it lands the whole gentle message. There is real Sri Lankan pride and nostalgia folded into the humor here, an affection for simple, home grown things, for a mother’s care, and for staying well the old fashioned way. It leaves you smiling and, more than likely, craving a hot cup of koththamalli.