In a quiet corner of the Puthumala graveyard in Kerala's Wayanad district, Shruthi S. and her fiancé, Jenson, stood hand in hand, surrounded by rows of graves marked only with numbers. For most, this place symbolizes the aftermath of a natural disaster that claimed countless lives. For Shruthi and Jenson, however, it represents a poignant blend of profound loss and unwavering commitment.
Their love story began over a decade ago in the small village of Chooralmala, where they were schoolmates. Over the years, their bond grew stronger, and on June 2, they became engaged, planning to marry in December. However, their plans were abruptly altered when a deadly landslide struck the scenic district of Wayanad on July 30, just days after their engagement.
The disaster brought unimaginable loss for Shruthi, a 24-year-old accountant working in Kozhikode. Her entire family of nine, including her parents and younger sister, killed in the landslide. As rescue operations unfolded, Shruthi and Jenson were left to search for their closed ones amidst the chaos. They discovered that her father and sister had died, but for weeks, there was no news about her mother.
It wasn't until Thursday, nearly a month after the disaster, that they learned through DNA testing that her mother's remains were among those buried in the Puthumala graveyard—a makeshift cemetery created on land donated by a local tea estate to provide a final resting place for the victims of the landslide. Volunteers buried many of the bodies and body parts here, and each grave was marked with a simple number.
Jenson, who works for a car cleaning company, has been by Shruthi’s side every step of the way since the tragedy. He made a vow to never leave her alone, especially now when she needed him the most. "I promised myself that I would never leave her side," he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. "We have reaffirmed our commitment to be together. Nothing will change my love for her."
Their visit to the graveyard was not just to mourn but also to find a semblance of peace amidst the turmoil. "We came here to pay our last respects to her mother," Jenson said, pointing to a grave marked with a number, indicating it belonged to an unidentified victim. "Now that we know it’s her, we’ll come back soon to replace the number with her name, Sabitha."
Shruthi, who lost her home along with her family, spoke about the grief that enveloped her since the landslide. Her voice trembled as she recalled the housewarming of her newly built home, held just a month before it was swept away by the landslide. "My parents and my sister would have been so happy to see my wedding," she said. "I don't know why this happened to me."
Meanwhile, the couple, was initially planning a grand wedding, but have now decided to go with a simple court-registered marriage next month instead. "Our love doesn’t need fanfare," she said, squeezing Jenson’s hand for support. "We just need each other."
Significantly, local customs in Kerala dictate a mourning period of 41 days after a death before a wedding can take place. The couple is observing this period, in memory of Shruthi’s family while also looking forward to a future together. "We will carry their memories with us forever," Shruthi added.
(With inputs from PTI)
