Islanders of Tripunithura

KOCHI: Kallu Vachu Kaadu is a haven of peace in the sprawling metropolis. The 56-acre island off the coast of Thekkumbhaghom in Tripunithura is home to eight families who cherish life’s simple pleasures. Country boats bring supplies and a touch of the outside world to this remote haven.

But despite all its beauty and tranquility, the island also presents its inhabitants with a number of challenges, especially during the monsoon: floods, poisonous snakes and treacherous waters.

For 53-year-old carpenter Murukesan KS, life is a daily struggle. Unlike others, he cannot afford a landboat to reach the mainland. He owns a modest house on a purambokke land, where he lives with his elderly father, wife and two children.

“We rely on other people’s boats to reach the mainland or return home. While islanders are always ready to lend a helping hand, there are times when you come home from work and have to wait endlessly for a boat,” Murukesan laments.

“Eventually you get tired and go swimming in the backwaters, driven by the desire to be with your family again after a hard day’s work,” he adds.

Murukesan’s family cannot afford the Rs 50,000 required for a fiberglass boat.

Most families have children who go to school on the mainland. Some row the boats themselves every morning and evening, while others rely on parents to take on the role of rower. There are eight children attending school on the island.

“My 10-year-old son Adinath studies at St Joseph English Medium LP School. Every morning I take him in our land boat to the other shore, from where he walks to school. We always pray for the sun to come out from behind the clouds,” says Maya, 23, another islander.

Islanders lament the failure of the Tripunithura Municipality to repair the ‘kadathu vallam’ (common rural boat), which sank over seven months ago.

“The boat was taken out of the water and left behind. No one has come to repair it. Most households now own small land boats and every member knows how to row,” says Aneesh, 30, better known as Appu.

The monsoon brings great challenges for the islanders.

“The monsoon tests our resilience. Our houses were completely submerged in the flood of 2018. Here, every monsoon, water enters the houses. It becomes difficult if someone falls ill,” says Murukesan.

One day he had to carry his father and row him across in a small boat before he reached the hospital.

“My wife is a heart patient. Although I love the peace and beauty of the island, I long to get away from here. I have applied for a house through the LIFE Mission project,” Murukesan reveals.

There is no road on the island. Most parts here are soaked. Residents have to wade through narrow embankments to reach the ghat and the mainland.

The monsoon is not the only enemy the islanders face.

The invasive weed in the inland waters spreads relentlessly and creates a dense layer on the water surface, making it almost impossible for boats to navigate.

“We have created a barrier by tying bottles with plastic ropes over the water as a shield against the weeds. But it is only a temporary solution and often proves ineffective,” Murukesan laments.

Islanders have been asking for a bridge for years, but since most of the property is owned by a trust, there’s not much that can be done.

“Even the promises of politicians that come up once every five years are useless once they are made,” he adds.

“Five years ago, a test pile was laid for the construction of a narrow suspension bridge. But nothing happened,” says Aneesh.

Only two families own property on the island, appointed as trustees by the trust. The rest live on purambokkeland.

When the storm subsides and the sun’s rays once again illuminate the water, the islanders emerge with renewed hope, ready to embrace the beauty and tranquility of their homeland once again.

But many, like Murukesan, are now eager to move, tired of battling nature’s wrath every monsoon.