Kerala and PM SRI: Politics or Progress?

 

Kerala and PM SRI: Politics or Progress?

— V. R. Ajith Kumar

Kerala has long been known for thinking differently when it comes to education. The state has often deviated from traditional educational models followed elsewhere in India—an approach that has brought both advantages and disadvantages to generations of students. Interestingly, the Central Government’s National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 has incorporated many of the models that Kerala pioneered years ago.

However, due to political opposition, Kerala chose not to sign the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with the Union Government for implementing certain schemes under the NEP. As a result, the state lost substantial financial assistance, and more importantly, its students were deprived of a broader national educational vision. Many who care deeply about the future of education in Kerala now view this ideological tussle between the Centre and the state with concern.

In India’s federal system, development ideally moves forward in a “double-engine” manner—when both the Central and State Governments pull in the same direction, progress accelerates and efficiency improves. Unfortunately, in Kerala’s case, the engines seem to be moving in opposite directions. The Centre and the state are politically at odds, and this conflict often hampers effective governance.

It is essential to separate politics from governance. Availing the maximum benefits of Central schemes should not be seen as a political concession but as a practical step toward public welfare. It is immature to believe that cooperating with the Centre automatically strengthens the BJP or weakens the Left.

Kerala has undertaken extensive school renovations through KIIFB (Kerala Infrastructure Investment Fund Board) funding—funds that must eventually be repaid with interest. But what would be the harm in implementing centrally sponsored schemes like PM SRI, where 60% of the cost is borne by the Central Government? The financial benefit alone should make the state reconsider its stance.

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What is PM SRI?

PM SRI stands for Prime Minister’s Schools for Rising India. The scheme aims to transform select existing schools into model institutions aligned with the spirit and philosophy of the National Education Policy 2020. It includes Kendriya Vidyalayas, Navodaya Vidyalayas, and other government schools, with the goal of raising educational standards and inspiring nearby schools to improve as well.

The PM SRI initiative promotes holistic education and shifts the focus from rote learning to competency-based learning. It emphasizes smart classrooms, digital learning tools, e-content, infrastructure upgrades, vocational training, IT and AI skills, as well as opportunities for internships and entrepreneurship.

The scheme also stresses collaboration with local industries, practical learning, and conceptual understanding. Furthermore, PM SRI schools are envisioned as green schools—implementing projects such as solar energy, LED lighting, nutritional gardens, waste management, plastic-free zones, water conservation, and rainwater harvesting.

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Implementation and Scope

The project runs for five years (2022–23 to 2026–27). Schools are identified through a transparent selection process using UDISE (Unified District Information System for Education) data. Each state must sign an MoU with the Centre to ensure full compliance with the NEP.

A school will earn the PM SRI status only after a competitive evaluation and a field inspection. The School Quality Assessment Framework (SQAF) will be used to continuously monitor progress.

The total project cost is ₹27,360 crore, of which the Centre contributes ₹18,128 crore and the states ₹9,232 crore. Each block can have a maximum of two PM SRI schools, and it is mandatory to use the regional language as the medium of instruction at least up to Class V. Across India, 14,500 schools and about 18 lakh students are expected to benefit from the programme.

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Kerala’s Missed Opportunity

Kerala’s decision to stay out of the PM SRI scheme was, in my opinion, a serious mistake. The initiative could have further enhanced the pioneering work done through IT@School and KITE, and elevated Kerala’s already commendable education system to new heights.

If recent reports are true—that the Centre has agreed to include Kerala in the scheme even at this late stage—it would be wise for the Chief Minister and the Education Minister to seize the opportunity. They should rise above political resistance, including that from the CPI, and make a decision in the best interests of Kerala’s students and the future of education in the state.

A Crisis of Justice: The Daswanth Verdict and the Urgent Need for Judicial Reform

 

A Crisis of Justice: The Daswanth Verdict and the Urgent Need for Judicial Reform

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The Supreme Court’s recent acquittal of Daswanth, who was on death row in Chennai's Puzhal Central Jail, serves as a searing indictment of our investigative and legal system. In 2018, the Chengalpet Mahila Court had sentenced him to death for the 2017 kidnapping, rape, and murder of a seven-year-old girl—a verdict upheld by the Madras High Court. Adding to the gravity of the case, Daswanth was also accused of murdering his own mother while out on bail. The Supreme Court, however, released him, citing "serious lapses in the investigation and trial."

This verdict is more than just a legal technicality; it's a profound failure of justice. A system that acquits an individual "under the shadow of suspicion" has failed to provide justice to a murdered seven-year-old child and a woman.

If Daswanth is not the culprit, then who is the real killer, and who enabled his escape? Does a reliable system even exist to find the truth in the aftermath of a failed trial? We hide behind the grand legal theory that "even if a thousand criminals escape, an innocent person should not be punished." While noble in principle, who is accountable when this theory shields incompetence and denies closure to victims? Why are the courts and the government not showing the necessary urgency to reform this broken structure?

A Proposed Shift: From Adversarial Argument to Scientific Truth-Finding

The current judicial system, where a judge acts as a passive arbiter—listening to two adversarial lawyers, examining selective evidence, and then making an independent decision—elevates the judge to a position of near-divine power. We rely too heavily on the subjective "thinking field" of a single judge. This fundamentally adversarial structure must change. Cases should not be "argued and won"; they should be scientifically investigated and resolved.

My proposal for a reformed system is as follows:

1. Specialized Investigation Teams: The initial First Information Report (FIR) and preliminary criminal identification should remain with the local police. However, the subsequent interrogation and scientific investigation must be handed over to a higher-level, multi-disciplinary committee.
2. Expert-Driven Inquiry: This team should comprise not just police but also a criminologist or forensic psychologist, a dedicated forensic expert, and an IT/cyber expert. The trial should only commence once this expert committee certifies that the evidence in the FIR is robust and scientifically sound.
3. Inquisitorial Trial Structure: We need to move away from oral combat between two lawyers. The trial should be led by an Expert Judicial Committee (including a judge and potentially other specialists) that directly questions the accused, the plaintiff, and the witnesses to establish the truth.
4. Lawyer as Helper, Not Controller: Lawyers should be permitted to participate, but their role must be limited to assisting their client and the court in presenting facts, not controlling or manipulating the narrative.
5. Mandatory Continuous Trial: The most critical reform is continuity. Instead of endless postponements that drag cases on for years, a system of continuous trial and judgment must be enforced. Cases that currently languish for decades could be decided within months.
6. Concise and Focused Judgments: Judgment reports can be significantly streamlined. Instead of thousand-page documents, final judgments should be precise, focused, and limited to a maximum of one hundred pages, ensuring clarity and quicker judicial review.

Our judicial system is a relic, a century behind the needs of a modern nation. An urgent, concerted effort to reorganize and modernize it is necessary. The question is, who will take the initiative? We must wait for the day our legislative bodies transform into venues for this critical, transformative debate.

A gentle soul remembered :Dr.K.Mohandas

 

A Gentle Soul Remembered: Dr. K. Mohandas

Dr. K. Mohandas, former Director of the Sree Chitra Institute and the first Vice-Chancellor of the Kerala University of Health Sciences, passed away on October 9, 2025. My association with him was that of a tenant and landlord—but it soon became much more personal and meaningful.

In 2005, after leaving Delhi, I returned to my hometown, determined to settle down in Pattom, Thiruvananthapuram. Since both my children were studying in Kendriya Vidyalaya, Pattom seemed the most convenient location. My wife Jayashree and I, along with my friend Satish, a PSC officer, visited several houses. None of them felt quite right, though we finally decided on one just to end the search.

It was then that I remembered my family friends Raji and Shammy, who lived in Vrindavan Gardens. We went there to meet them, and during the visit, Shammy’s mother mentioned that a flat nearby was vacant. It belonged to the Director of Sree Chitra Institute. Without delay, Shammy’s sister Sheela called him, spoke briefly, and handed the phone to me. I introduced myself.

When Dr. Mohandas said, “I’ll give you the house, but…,” I thought he was about to ask for a high rent. At that time, rents in the area were around ₹5,000 and above, and I was prepared to agree to any reasonable amount because we liked the place at first sight. But that “but” meant something entirely different.

“That house is my first investment,” he said gently. “Would you take good care of it as your own?”
I assured him that I would. Then he added, “The previous tenant paid ₹3,500 per month. Can Ajith give me that much?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied immediately.

He then said, “If it’s convenient for you, please come to the institute. I’ll give you the keys.”

We went straight there, and after a pleasant conversation, he handed over the keys. He spoke with such warmth about that house—the first property he had ever bought—with the innocence and affection of a child. I felt a deep respect for him that day.

After settling in, I mentioned that a few maintenance works were needed. He said, “Do whatever you want; I’ll pay for it.” I got the house painted and repaired, and later invited him to see it. When he visited after many years, we spent some wonderful moments together. As we offered him apples and other fruits, he smiled and said, “When I wanted to eat all this, I didn’t have the means. Now I can buy anything, but I can’t eat it—diabetes doesn’t allow that.” He drank his tea without sugar and left with a smile that I can still recall vividly.

Later, I would handle all the small repairs myself, never bothering to ask him for reimbursement. Every month, I went to Sree Chitra to pay the rent. He would ask, “Did you do any work on the house this month?” and I’d say “No.” Then we would chat about politics, administration, and the world in general.

One day, he said, “Ajith, don’t trouble yourself coming in person every time. I know you’re busy with official duties—just hand the rent over to my PA.” After that, it became our routine.

We continued living in his flat until I bought another one in Vrindavan Gardens, encouraged by Justice Thankachan Sir. When I returned the keys, Dr. Mohandas said, “Thank you for taking good care of my beloved house.” His voice reflected how deeply his heart was tied to that first possession of his.

Over time, as often happens, I lost touch with him—something I regret to this day. But the memories remain—of his kindness, his humility, and his gentle smile. I also remember how, during those years, I was able to help many people who visited Sree Chitra for treatment, thanks to that association.

That handsome, gracious man and his warm smile are now just a memory.
Farewell, Dr. Mohandas. You will be remembered with affection and respect.

 

The mists of memory: my return to Kodaikanal

 

 

കൊടൈക്കനാലില്‍ വീണ്ടും

കൊടൈക്കനാലിനെ കുറിച്ചുള്ള ആദ്യ ഓര്‍മ്മ ഏകദേശം ഇരുപത് വര്‍ഷം മുന്നെയുള്ളൊരനുഭവമാണ്. സുഖകരമായ തണുപ്പും ശുദ്ധവായുവിന്‍റെ കുളിര്‍മ്മയുമുള്ള കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ അക്കാലത്തെ മലയാള സിനിമകളിലെ ഒരു പ്രധാന ഘടകമായിരുന്നു.പരവൂരില്‍ നിന്നും പുറപ്പെട്ട് വൈകിട്ടാണ് ഞങ്ങള്‍ കൊടൈക്കനാലിലെത്തി. വലിയൊരു ടീമായിരുന്നു അത്.ഞാനും ജയശ്രീയും ശ്രീക്കുട്ടിയും ശ്രീക്കുട്ടനും സജീവും വിജയശ്രീയും ഉണ്ണിക്കുട്ടനും ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണനും ഷിബുവും ദീപയും അനഘയും അടങ്ങിയ സംഘം.സജീവിന്‍റെ കെയറോഫില്‍ സ്റ്റേറ്റ് ബാങ്ക് ഓഫ് ട്രാവന്‍കൂറിന്‍റെ ഗസ്റ്റ്ഹൌസിലായിരുന്നു താമസം.മുറിയെടുത്തശേഷം തടാകക്കരയിലെത്തിയ ഞാന്‍ ഒരു സൈക്കിളെടുത്ത് ആവേശത്തോടെ ചവിട്ടാന്‍ തുടങ്ങി. ഒന്നും രണ്ടുമല്ല മൂന്ന് റൌണ്ട്.നന്നായി വിയര്‍ത്തു.ഇടയ്ക്ക് ശ്വാസംമുട്ടൊക്കെ ഉണ്ടാകാറുള്ള എനിക്ക് വലിയ കോണ്‍ഫിഡന്‍സ് തോന്നി.പക്ഷെ അത് താത്ക്കാലികമായിരുന്നു.മുറിയിലെത്തി കമ്പിളിയുടെ അലര്‍ജി കൂടി ആയതോടെ ശ്വാസംമുട്ടും തുമ്മലും ആരംഭിച്ചു.എങ്ങിനെയോ രാത്രി ഇരുട്ടി വെളുപ്പിച്ചു.അടുത്ത ദിവസം ഞാന്‍ മുറിയില്‍തന്നെ തങ്ങി.ബാക്കിയുള്ളവര്‍ കാഴ്ച കാണാനും പോയി.അടുത്ത ദിവസം മലയിറങ്ങിയതോടെയാണ് കുറച്ച് ആശ്വാസം കിട്ടിയത്.അതിന് ശേഷം പലവട്ടം കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ യാത്രയെ കുറിച്ച് ചിന്തിച്ചിട്ടുണ്ടെങ്കിലും മനസ്സ് വേണ്ട എന്നു പറയുമായിരുന്നു. മലയാളിയെ സംബ്ബന്ധിച്ചിടത്തോളം കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ അയലത്തൊരു വീട് മാതിരിയാണ്.എല്ലാ മാസവും കൊടൈക്കനാലില്‍ വന്നുപോകുന്നവരൊക്കെയുണ്ട്.ഇവിടെ വീടുള്ളവരും ധാരാളം.

  കൊടൈക്കനാലിലേക്കുള്ള രണ്ടാമത് യാത്ര 2025 ജൂണില്‍ ശിവഗംഗയില്‍ നിന്നായിരുന്നു.കാനഡയില്‍ നിന്നും മടങ്ങിയെത്തിയ ഉണ്ണിക്കുട്ടനും പൂജയും ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണനും ഞങ്ങള്‍ക്കൊപ്പമുണ്ട്.ഞങ്ങളെന്നാല്‍ ഞാനും ജയശ്രീയും ശ്രീക്കുട്ടിയും ശ്രീക്കുട്ടനും പത്മാവതിയുമാണ്.ഉച്ച കഴിഞ്ഞാണ് ഇറങ്ങിയത്.180 കിലോമീറ്റര്‍ ദൂരമുണ്ട് കൊടൈക്കനാലിലേക്ക്.കുറഞ്ഞത് നാല് മണിക്കൂറെടുക്കും അവിടെയെത്താന്‍.മേലൂര്‍,മധുര,തിരുമംഗലം,ഉസിലാംപട്ടി,പെരുമാള്‍മലൈ എന്നിങ്ങനെ പലയിടങ്ങള്‍ താണ്ടിയുള്ള യാത്ര.ഉസിലാംപെട്ടിയില്‍ ഇറങ്ങി ഒരു ചായ കുടിച്ചു.പോകുംവഴിയൊക്കെ മനോഹരകാഴ്ചകളാണ്.മലകളും പച്ചപ്പും തടാകങ്ങളും ഒക്കെ കൂടി മനസ്സിനെ മോഹിപ്പിക്കുന്ന അവസ്ഥ.വളഞ്ഞുപുളഞ്ഞ റോഡുകളും കൊടുംവളവുകളും ധാരാളം. ശ്രീക്കുട്ടനാണ് ഡ്രൈവര്‍.ഡ്രൈവിംഗ് അവനൊരു അഭിനിവേശമാണ് എന്നതിനാല്‍ ആസ്വദിച്ചാണ് വണ്ടിയോടിക്കുന്നത്.

    പൂജയുടെ കഴുത്ത് വേദനയും ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണന്‍ നേരിട്ട ഭക്ഷ്യവിഷബാധയുമായിരുന്നു യാത്രയില്‍ കുറച്ച് വിഷമമായത്.മല കയറി ടൌണ്‍ എത്തിയപ്പോഴേക്കും എനിക്കും യാത്രയുടെ ചൊരുക്ക് തുടങ്ങിയിരുന്നു.ഛര്‍ദ്ദിക്കുമോ എന്ന് സംശയിച്ചു.ടൌണും കടന്ന് അതിനപ്പുറമുള്ള ഒരിടത്തായിരുന്നു ഞങ്ങളുടെ താമസം ഏര്‍പ്പാടാക്കിയിരുന്നത്.ശിവഗംഗയിലുള്ള ഒരു വ്യക്തിയുടെ ഹോളിഡേഹോം ആയിരുന്നു അത്.അവരും അവരുടെ അതിഥികളും മാത്രം വന്ന് താമസിക്കുന്ന ഇടം.അവിടെ ശിവ എന്ന് പേരുള്ള ഒരു കെയര്‍ ടേക്കറും ഭക്ഷണമുണ്ടാക്കി നല്‍കാന്‍ അയാളുടെ ഭാര്യ റാണിയുമാണ് ഉള്ളത്.ഗൂഗിള്‍ പറഞ്ഞ ദിശയിലാണ് പോയതെങ്കിലും വണ്ടി ഒരു ഡെഡ് എന്‍ഡില്‍ എത്തി നിന്നു.ശിവയെ വിളിച്ചപ്പോഴാണ് ഞങ്ങള്‍ കുറച്ചുമുന്നിലേക്ക് വന്നു എന്ന് മനസ്സിലാക്കിയത്.രാത്രിയാണ്.നല്ല ഇരുട്ടും.വഴിയില്‍ ആരുമില്ല.പ്രയാസപ്പെട്ടാണ് വണ്ടി തിരിച്ചത്.ഞങ്ങള്‍ താമസിക്കേണ്ട ഇടം കടന്ന് മൂന്ന് കെട്ടിടങ്ങള്‍ താണ്ടിക്കഴിഞ്ഞിരുന്നു.ശിവ വീടിന് പുറത്തുവന്ന് വഴികാട്ടി.വണ്ടി പാര്‍ക്ക് ചെയ്ത് ഇറങ്ങി.അത്താഴത്തിന് എന്തൊക്കെവേണം എന്ന് നേരത്തെ വിളിച്ചു പറഞ്ഞിരുന്നതിനാല്‍ എല്ലാം തയ്യാറായിരുന്നു.നല്ല ഭക്ഷണമായിരുന്നു.ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണന് കഞ്ഞി ഉണ്ടാക്കികൊടുത്തു.രാവിലെ ഡോക്ടറെ കാണാനും ഏര്‍പ്പാടാക്കി.ഛര്‍ദ്ദിയും വയറിളക്കവും രൂക്ഷമാണ്.

      സുഖമുള്ള തണുപ്പാണ് എങ്കിലും വേണ്ട സുരക്ഷ ഉറപ്പാക്കിയിരുന്നു. ശ്വാസം മുട്ടിന്‍റെ പഴയ അനുഭവം ഇടയ്ക്കിടെ മനസ്സിനെ അലട്ടുന്നുണ്ടായിരുന്നു.രാവിലെ ഉണര്‍ന്ന് ഞാനും ശ്രീക്കുട്ടിയും നടക്കാനിറങ്ങി.പൊതുവെ നിശബ്ദമാണ് താഴ്വര.നിര്‍മ്മാണ പ്രവര്‍ത്തനങ്ങള്‍ തകൃതിയായി നടക്കുന്നുണ്ട്.കാണാനുള്ള ഇടങ്ങളേക്കാള്‍ കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ നല്‍കുന്ന നിശബ്ദയും സമാധാനവുമാണ് ആ പ്രദേശത്തിന്‍റെ പ്രത്യേകത.വശങ്ങളിലൊക്കെ മനോഹരമായ പൂക്കള്‍,ദൂരെ ഒരു ആണ്‍മയിലിന്‍റെ നൃത്തം,അത് ശ്രദ്ധിക്കാത്ത മട്ടില്‍ നടന്നുപോകുന്ന പെണ്‍മയില്‍.അങ്ങിനെ പ്രഭാത കാഴ്ചകള്‍ കണ്ട് മടങ്ങി.രാത്രിയുടെ ഇരുട്ടില്‍ കണ്ട വീടിനെ പകല്‍വെളിച്ചത്തില്‍ ഒന്നുകൂടി നോക്കി.പാറയില്‍ നിര്‍മ്മിച്ച മൂന്ന് നില കെട്ടിടമാണ്.താഴെ കെയര്‍ടേക്കറും കുടുംബവും താമസിക്കുന്നു. ഒന്നാം നിലയിലേക്കാണ് പ്രധാന പ്രവേശനം.അവിടെ ഒരു വലിയ ഹാളും അടുക്കളയും ബാല്‍ക്കണിയും.മുകളില്‍ മൂന്ന് ചെറിയ ബഡ് റൂമുകള്‍.

     ചായകുടി കഴിഞ്ഞ് കുളിച്ചുവന്നു.പ്രഭാതഭക്ഷണം കഴിച്ചു. ഉണ്ണിക്കുട്ടനും ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണനും ചേര്‍ന്ന് ബാല്‍ക്കണിയില്‍ നിന്ന് ഡ്രോണ്‍ ഉപയോഗിച്ച് താഴ്വരയുടെ വീഡിയോയെടുത്തു.ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണന്‍റെ നില മെച്ചപ്പെട്ടതിനാല്‍ ഡോക്ടറെ കാണണ്ട എന്ന് തീരുമാനിച്ചു.ഉണ്ണിക്കണ്ണനും പൂജയും ജയശ്രീയും പത്മാവതിയും വീട്ടില്‍തന്നെ വിശ്രമിച്ചു.ഞങ്ങള്‍ നാലുപേരും പുറത്തേക്ക് പോയി.ആദ്യം തടാകതീരത്തേക്കാണ് പോയത്. അവിടെ വഴിയോരത്ത് ഹോംമെയ്ഡ് ചോക്ലേറ്റിന്‍റെയും അലങ്കാര വസ്തുക്കളുടെയും കളിപ്പാട്ടങ്ങളുടെയും കടകളുണ്ട്.മലപ്പുറംകാരന്‍ മുഹമ്മദിന്‍റെ കടയില്‍ നിന്നും ഇഞ്ചിച്ചായ കുടിച്ചു.ആളുകള്‍ ബോട്ടിംഗും സൈക്കിളിംഗും നടത്തുന്നു.ഞങ്ങള്‍ അതിനൊന്നും കൂടിയില്ല.സമുദ്രനിരപ്പില്‍ നിന്നും 7200 അടി ഉയരമുള്ള കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ ബ്രിട്ടീഷുകാരുടെ ഒരു പ്രിയപ്പെട്ട ഇടമായിരുന്നു.അവിടെയാണ് 1863 ല്‍ നക്ഷത്രാകൃതിയില്‍ ഒരു തടാകം സായിപ്പ് തയ്യാറാക്കിയത്.അഞ്ച് കിലോമീറ്റര്‍ ചുറ്റളവുള്ള ഇവിടമാണ് കൊടൈക്കനാലിലെ പ്രധാന ആകര്‍ഷണവും.

   അവിടെ നിന്നും ഞങ്ങള്‍ ബ്രയാന്‍റ് പാര്‍ക്ക് ഒന്നെത്തിനോക്കി വീണ്ടും യാത്ര തുടര്‍ന്നു.കോക്കേഴ്സ് വാക്കിന്‍റെ പാത കണ്ടശേഷം പില്ലര്‍ റോക്കിലെത്തി.മൂന്ന് ഭീമാകാര പാറകളാണ് അവിടെയുള്ളത്.നല്ല മൂടല്‍മഞ്ഞില്‍ പാറകളുടെ നിഴല്‍ മാത്രമാണ് ഞങ്ങള്‍ കണ്ടത്. അതിനടുത്തുള്ള വ്യൂപോയിന്‍റില്‍ നല്ല തിരക്കായിരുന്നു.ഗ്രീന്‍ വാലി വ്യൂ അഥവാ സൂയിസൈഡ് പോയിന്‍റിലും തിരക്കായിരുന്നു.ഡോള്‍ഫിന്‍സ് നോസും രസകരമായ കാഴ്ചയാണ്.അവിടെനിന്ന് ഗുണ കേവ്സിലേക്ക് പോയി.അവിടെ ഉത്സവപ്രതീതിയായിരുന്നു.തമിഴിലെ ഗുണ എന്ന ചിത്രം ഷൂട്ട് ചെയ്യുംവരെ ഡെവിള്‍സ് കിച്ചണ്‍ എന്നറിയപ്പെട്ടിരുന്ന ഇവിടം വളരെ നിഗൂഢമായ ഇടമാണ്.പാറകളുടെ ഇടയിലുള്ള ആഴമുള്ള ഗുഹകളില്‍ വീണ് അനേകമാളുകള്‍ മരിച്ച ഇടമാണിത്.ശരീരം പോലും തിരികെ കിട്ടാത്തതിനാലാകാം ഡെവിള്‍സ് കിച്ചണ്‍ എന്ന് പേരുവന്നത്.കഴിഞ്ഞ വര്‍ഷം മഞ്ഞുമ്മല്‍ ബോയ്സ് എന്ന മലയാള ചിത്രം കൂടി ഇവിടം കേന്ദ്രമാക്കി വന്നതോടെ ഗുണ കേവ്സ് കൂടുതല്‍ സന്ദര്‍ശകരെ ആകര്‍ഷിക്കുന്നു.

        വേരുകള്‍ ഇണചേരുന്ന പാമ്പുകളെപ്പോലെ കെട്ടുപിണഞ്ഞു കിടക്കുന്ന പരിസരവും പാറകളും അവ്യക്തമായ ചുറ്റുപാടുകളെ സമ്മാനിക്കുന്ന മൂടലും ചേര്‍ന്ന് ഇവിടെ ഒരു ഭീതിദമായ അന്തരീക്ഷം സൃഷ്ടിക്കാന്‍ പ്രകൃതി ശ്രദ്ധിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു.ഞങ്ങള്‍ അവിടെ എത്തിയതും കടുത്ത മഴ ആരംഭിച്ചു. മഴയില്‍ ഗുണ കേവ്സ് കാണുമ്പോള്‍ അതിന്‍റെ വന്യത ഇരട്ടിച്ചപോലെ തോന്നി.നന്നായി നനഞ്ഞു.മഴ കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോള്‍ അവിടെനിന്നും പൈന്‍മരക്കാടിനടുത്തെത്തി.നല്ല വിശപ്പുണ്ട്.പൈനിന്‍റെ സൌന്ദര്യം പുറത്തുനിന്ന് ആസ്വദിച്ചശേഷം ഞങ്ങള്‍ താമസസ്ഥലത്തേക്ക് മടങ്ങി.ഭക്ഷണം കഴിഞ്ഞ് കുറച്ചു സമയം വിശ്രമിച്ചശേഷം മലയിറങ്ങി.രാത്രി ഏറെ വൈകി ശിവഗംഗയിലെത്തി.അങ്ങിനെ ഇരുപത് വര്‍ഷത്തിന് ശേഷം കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ കണ്ടു.ഒരു പുകമറ മാറി തെളിഞ്ഞ കൊടൈക്കനാല്‍ കണ്ട അനുഭവമാണ് ഈ രണ്ടാമത് യാത്ര സമ്മാനിച്ചത്.

  

Kodaikanal Again – A Return After Twenty Years

 

Kodaikanal Again – A Return After Twenty Years

My first memory of Kodaikanal goes back about twenty years. Kodaikanal, with its pleasant scenery and enchanting beauty, was a familiar backdrop in many Malayalam films of that time. Our first trip was a big family outing. We travelled from Paravur, Kollam, and reached Kodaikanal late in the evening. The team included me, Jayasree, Sreekutty, Sreekuttan, Sajeev, Vijayasree, Unnikuttan, Unnikannan, Shibu, Deepa, and Anagha. Since Sajeev was an employee of the State Bank of Travancore, we stayed at the SBT guesthouse.

That night, after a short break, we went to the lakeside where I enthusiastically took a bicycle and pedalled around the lake—not once or twice, but three full rounds. I sweated a lot but felt confident, even though I occasionally suffered from eosinophilia. Unfortunately, that confidence didn’t last. Back in the room, the cold climate and my allergy to wool triggered shortness of breath and severe sneezing. I somehow endured a sleepless night. The next day, while the others went sightseeing, I stayed indoors. Only when we began the descent down the mountain in the evening did I feel some relief. After that experience, though I thought of returning to Kodaikanal many times, my mind always said no.

For many Malayalis, Kodaikanal is like a neighbour’s home—close and familiar. Some visit every month, and many even own houses there.

My second trip to Kodaikanal happened in June 2025, starting from Sivaganga. This time, the group included Unnikuttan, Pooja, and Unnikannan—who had recently returned from Canada—along with Jayasree, Sreekutty, Sreekuttan, Padmavati, and me. We set off in the afternoon. The distance to Kodaikanal is about 180 km, taking at least four hours to cover. Our route passed through Melur, Madurai, Thirumangalam, Usilampatti, and Perumalmalai. We stopped at Usilampatti for tea. The journey offered beautiful views—mountains, greenery, and shimmering lakes. The winding roads and sharp curves added to the thrill. Sreekuttan, who loves driving, enjoyed every turn.

However, the journey was not without its troubles. Pooja developed a neck pain, and Unnikannan suffered from food poisoning. By the time we reached the town after the mountain climb, I too began to feel queasy and feared I might vomit. We had arranged to stay at a private holiday home owned by a Sivaganga resident. Only the owner and his guests use this property. The caretaker, Shiva, and his wife Rani look after the house and prepare food.

Following Google’s directions, we mistakenly drove to a dead end. It was night, the road was deserted, and darkness surrounded us. After calling Shiva, we realized we had overshot the location. With difficulty, Sree turned the car around. Shiva came out to guide us, and soon we reached the house, where dinner was ready as we had informed them earlier. The food was delicious. Rani even prepared a light porridge for Unnikannan and Shiva arranged for a doctor’s visit the next day, as his vomiting and diarrhoea were severe.

The weather was pleasantly cold, but I took all necessary precautions, mindful of my earlier experience. Early in the morning, Sreekutty and I went for a walk. The valley was silent except for the distant sounds of construction. The peace and stillness of Kodaikanal are more precious than its sights. Along the path, we saw vibrant flowers, a male peacock dancing, and a female peacock calmly walking away, indifferent to the show.

In daylight, I could fully appreciate the house we were staying in—a three-storey building built on rocks. The caretaker’s family lived on the ground floor. The main entrance was on the first floor, with a spacious hall, a kitchen, and a balcony. Three small bedrooms occupied the top floor. It was a cosy and comfortable stay.

After tea, I took a bath and had breakfast. From the balcony, Unnikuttan and Unnikannan captured breathtaking drone shots of the valley. With Unnikannan feeling better, we decided not to call the doctor. He, Pooja, Jayasree, and Padmavati chose to rest while the rest of us went out exploring.

Our first stop was the famous star-shaped Kodaikanal Lake. Small shops lined the roadside, selling homemade chocolates, decorative crafts, and toys. We sipped spicy ginger tea at a stall run by Mohammed from Malappuram. People were boating and cycling, but we chose to simply enjoy the view. Situated 7,200 feet above sea level, Kodaikanal was a favourite of the British, who created this artificial lake in 1863. With a circumference of five kilometres, it remains the town’s main attraction.

From there, we visited Bryant Park and then walked along Coaker’s Walk before heading to Pillar Rocks. These three giant rock formations are usually a stunning sight, but on this day, thick fog allowed us only faint glimpses. Nearby, the Green Valley View ,formerly known as Suicide Point  and Dolphin’s Nose were also bustling with visitors.

Our next stop was the Guna Caves, a place of mystery and danger. Originally known as Devil’s Kitchen, it became famous after the Tamil film Guna was shot there. Over the years, many people have lost their lives after falling into the deep crevices between the rocks—so deep that their bodies were never recovered. Perhaps that’s why it was once called Devil’s Kitchen. Following the release of the Malayalam film Manjummal Boys last year, the caves have attracted even more visitors. Nature has created a chilling atmosphere here—twisted tree roots resembling intertwined snakes, massive rocks, and a mist that adds an eerie beauty. As we explored, heavy rain began to fall, doubling the wildness of the scene and drenching us completely.

After the rain eased, we made a brief stop at the pine forest. Hungry and tired, we admired the towering pines from outside before heading back to our accommodation for lunch and a short rest. By evening, we began the long descent and finally reached Sivaganga late at night.

After twenty long years, I returned to Kodaikanal. This second visit, though brief, allowed me to experience the hill station’s timeless charm once again—this time through a misty, smoky veil that made it feel even more magical.

Coimbatore: The Forgotten Cradle of South Indian Cinema

 

Coimbatore: The Forgotten Cradle of South Indian Cinema

V.R. Ajith Kumar

Although Madras, which later became the cradle of South Indian cinema, earned the nickname “Kollywood” through Kodambakkam—the lucky land of filmmakers—the title originally belonged to Coimbatore, fondly called “Kovai” by Tamils. It was here, in the 1930s, that artists and industrialists came together and nurtured South Indian cinema.

Indian cinema first took shape in Bombay. It was in 1913 that Dadasaheb Phalke made Raja Harishchandra, regarded as the first Indian feature film. Around the same period, Hiralal Sen and others were experimenting with short films in Calcutta. In the South, Nataraja Mudaliar, a car dealer turned filmmaker, became the first pioneer. In 1917, he established the India Film Company and in 1918 produced and directed the silent film Keechaka Vadham. He later made Draupadi Vastrapaharanam and Lava Kusha, but due to financial troubles and a devastating fire in his studio, he had to retire before 1930. Still, Nataraja Mudaliar is remembered as the father of Tamil cinema. Though his ventures were based in Madras, it was Coimbatore that became the real hub of South Indian film production in the decades that followed.

On March 14, 1931, Ardeshir Irani released India’s first talkie, Alam Ara, in Hindi. Later that year, H.M. Reddy directed Kalidas, the first South Indian sound film, with dialogues in both Tamil and Telugu. Though shot in Bombay, film production soon shifted to Coimbatore. The establishment of Central Studios and Pakshiraja Studios in the 1930s and 1940s firmly planted the roots of cinema in Coimbatore. Landmark productions such as Sathi Leelavathi (1936) and Thyagabhoomi (1939) marked the beginning of this golden era.

Sathi Leelavathi, directed by Ramakrishna Chettiar of Krishna Pictures and based on a novel by S.S. Vasan (later the founder of Gemini Studios in Madras), holds a special place in Tamil film history. It was the debut film of M.G. Ramachandran (MGR), who would later rise to become the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu. The film was produced at Central Studios in Coimbatore and directed by Ellis R. Duncan, a Hollywood filmmaker. Later, the blockbuster Malaikkallan, also starring MGR, was produced in Coimbatore.

Among the visionaries who shaped the industry, S.M. Sriramulu Naidu stands out. Active from 1935 to 1976, he revolutionized South Indian cinema. The son of railway station master Munisamy Naidu, Sriramulu joined his father’s bakery, Davy & Company, in 1932. His association with the Cosmopolitan Club of Coimbatore industrialists eventually steered him into filmmaking. He initially worked with R. Rangaswamy at Premier Cinetone Studio in 1934. When Premier folded, a consortium including Ramakrishna Chettiar (brother of R.K. Shanmukham Chetty, India’s first Finance Minister), B. Rangaswamy Naidu, C.N. Venkatapathy Naidu, S. Bhimiya Chetty, P.A. Raju Chettiar and Samikannu Vincent founded Central Studios, with Sriramulu as a working partner.

On 17 acres at Singanallur, Coimbatore, Central Studios thrived from 1936 to 1955, producing 47 films, including Bhakta Tukaram (1936) starring Carnatic musician Musiri Subrahmanya Iyer. The studio’s last production was Town Bus (1955), directed by K. Somu.

In 1945, Sriramulu acquired the former Premier Studio, renaming it Pakshiraja Studio. Its 1950 production, Ezhai Padum Paadu, directed by K. Ramnoth, became a milestone. Adapted from Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, it was a massive hit and is one of the ten Tamil films preserved by the National Film Archive of India. The film featured S.V. Sahasranamam, T.S. Balaiah, S.D. Subbulakshmi, P. Bhanumathi, and N. Seetharaman—who, after playing Inspector Javert, came to be popularly known as “Javert Seetharaman.”

Pakshiraja also produced Malaikkallan (scripted by M. Karunanidhi), later remade in Telugu as Aggi Ramudu with N.T. Rama Rao. The remarkable fact that MGR, Karunanidhi, and NTR—associated with this single film—each went on to become Chief Ministers, remains a unique historical coincidence.

Pakshiraja Studio, located on Puliyakulam–Sungam Road, was a state-of-the-art facility. Spread across four acres, it included star apartments, 30 rooms, carpentry workshops, a beauty salon, a film lab, a canteen, and even a mini-zoo with a tiger. Its emblem featured Garuda standing on a globe, subduing a serpent. Bollywood stars Dilip Kumar and Meena Kumari stayed here during the making of Azad (1955), a Hindi remake of Malaikkallan. Other celebrated films shot here included Kannika Pavalakodi, Maragatham, Kalyaniyin Kanavan (starring Sivaji Ganesan and B. Saroja Devi), and the Malayalam classic Sabarimala Sri Ayyappan (1961).

Sriramulu Naidu is remembered as a pioneer who modernized set construction, editing, and sound design, moving cinema from mythological themes to socially relevant subjects. His vision, technical brilliance, and commitment to quality left an indelible mark.

Parallel to film production, Coimbatore also became a hub for film exhibition, thanks to the efforts of Samikannu Vincent. A Southern Railway employee, Samikannu purchased a projector and silent films from a Frenchman named DuPont in 1905 and began touring South India with his screenings. In 1917, he established Variety Hall, South India’s first permanent cinema theatre, at Town Hall in Coimbatore. Variety Hall (later renamed Delight) ran for over a century before being demolished in 2024. Notably, Samikannu was the first to introduce printed cinema tickets. He also electrified his theatre with a European generator at a time when the Coimbatore municipality had only one street lamp. His pioneering spirit laid the foundation for cinema exhibition across South India. The last screening at Delight was held in June 2023, featuring the 1980 Rajinikanth film Manithan.

By the 1940s and ’50s, however, the film industry shifted to Madras. Its rapid urban growth, better transport facilities, distribution networks, and political clout ensured that Kodambakkam, with giants like AVM and Gemini Studios, became synonymous with South Indian cinema. Coimbatore, despite its glorious start, gradually lost its prominence.

Sriramulu Naidu later acquired the Bobbili Raja Palace in Bangalore and established Chamundeshwari Studios in 1970. He passed away in 1976. Central Studio and Pakshiraja Studio, once the pride of Coimbatore, have since been repurposed for commercial ventures. Today, the Coimbatore era of cinema remains a fond and fascinating memory of the golden beginnings of South Indian film.