The performance started with a casual conversation, weaving light-hearted humour and engaging questions, putting the volunteer at ease. But Mahadevan’s sharp eyes never left her, keenly observing every flicker of her eyes.
“Picture your phone’s lock screen,” he told the volunteer, his tone layered with intrigue. “Now imagine drawing the pattern in your mind, step by step.” Adding to the suspense, Mahadevan extended his hand and asked, “Ma’am, would you shake my hand?” With a theatrical flourish, he clasped her hand, letting the moment linger in charged silence.
Then came the climax. Picking up her phone, Mahadevan paused for a moment, his finger hovering above the touchscreen. Slowly, confidently, he traced the pattern.
The phone was unlocked. The volunteer’s wide-eyed disbelief said it all.
Mahadevan followed this with an impressive display of telekinesis, flipping a pair of glasses without touching them, and a series of captivating card tricks.
And he loved the response he got. “Whether it is magic or mentalism, the reaction we get from the audience is what matters the most,” said the 17-year-old mentalist, before reflecting on his life―one that has witnessed its own series of magical moments.
Mahadevan was born on October 14, 2004, as the eldest child of Lajeev G.L. and Lija S.K., a couple from Paravur in Kerala’s Kollam district. Unfortunately, the baby had severe abnormalities in his renal system.
“At birth, his creatinine levels were elevated, and posterior urethral valves (PUV) were detected,” said Lajeev, who works in a scheduled bank. It is a condition caused by a flap of foetal tissue that develops in the urethra during early pregnancy. And it happens only in boys. The flap obstructs urine flow from the bladder, leading to complications such as difficulty urinating, besides kidney damage.
As Mahadevan’s kidneys were severely damaged, doctors performed a surgical procedure involving re-routing both ureters―the tubes that carry urine from the kidneys―directly to openings in the abdominal wall, bypassing the non-functional bladder entirely. Subsequently, urine came out through two openings on either side of the abdomen, leaving the area wet and requiring constant care. Although dialysis was recommended, the family’s financial constraints and the uncertainty of finding a suitable kidney donor forced Mahadevan to rely on long-term management throughout his childhood and adolescence.
“We hardly got any sleep when he was a baby because he would wake up every time his clothes got wet,” said Lija. “In the beginning, my father made diapers with cotton and gauze, which we used until he turned two. Then we started buying diapers, but they caused rashes,” she said. Mahadevan required at least a dozen change of clothes daily.

Constant dampness and odour around the openings made Lajeev and Lija reluctant to enrol Mahadevan in school. “We didn’t send him to school until he was seven. We were worried about how he would manage,” said Lija.
Initially, Lija would visit the school to help change diapers. Later, a compassionate teacher volunteered to assist. By third grade, however, Mahadevan began to feel self-conscious about relying on his teacher.
Fortunately, reusable diapers lasting up to 12 hours provided a practical solution. “By the time he got home, the diaper would be full,” Lija said, adding that her son occasionally faced bullying. “But he would not complain.”
Mahadevan said the biggest worry as a child was his inability to play outside with other kids. While his classmates and teachers were supportive, he now realises that certain gestures of care made him feel uncomfortable. “I was allowed to sit even during the national anthem. I could have washed my own lunch box, but the ayahs insisted on doing it for me. I wasn’t even allowed to carry my school bag. Back then, I may have enjoyed it, but looking back now, it feels strange,” he said.
A “magic kit” gifted by his aunt was his first introduction to the world of magic. “Back then, I dreamed of learning magic and conjuring endless ice creams at will,” he said. From his fourth grade, Mahadevan started training under a professional mentalist and magician. He also started following celebrities like Canadian-American magician Shin Lim. At school, he started performing for classmates.
However, Mahadevan’s health was deteriorating. Dr Praveen Muralidharan, senior consultant at the department of nephrology at KIMSHEALTH, Thiruvananthapuram, said Mahadevan should have undergone surgery immediately after birth. “Urine was actually leaking without any control through the skin for many years. Progressively, his kidney function worsened,” he said. This decline necessitated Mahadevan to start dialysis. Confined to his home during the pandemic, Mahadevan surprised his parents by showing enthusiasm for the dialysis sessions. His positive attitude became a source of strength for them.
Soon, the dialysis unit at a Kollam hospital turned into Mahadevan’s stage for magic and mentalism performances. His health challenges persisted. “He encountered complications during dialysis, and we determined that a transplant would be the most suitable treatment for him, considering his age and the condition of his urinary tract,” said Dr Muralidharan.
Lajeev and Lija, determined to help their son, volunteered as donors. “But unfortunately, our kidneys were incompatible,” said Lajeev. As Mahadevan continued to be on dialysis, an extraordinary gesture of compassion unfolded. Lajeev’s colleague Neethu Banerjee offered to donate a kidney. “I have known Mahadevan since he was a child,” Neethu told THE WEEK. “There’s an old Anil Kapoor movie, Saaheb (1985), that I watched as a kid. It inspired me to decide early on that I would donate my organs someday.” Neethu and her husband had already given written consent to donate their organs posthumously, but Mahadevan’s dire need moved her to act immediately.
“I told Lajeev and Lija that I would donate my kidney,” Neethu said. However, they found it hard to believe that someone who was not even a blood relative would perform such a profound act of kindness.
Neethu’s kidney was a perfect match, but the road ahead was not without challenges. “We had to conduct a detailed evaluation of Mahadevan’s urinary bladder and lower urinary tract because he had congenital abnormalities in the lower urinary tract,” said Dr Muralidharan. “His bladder was too small and couldn’t hold urine, so connecting the new kidney to the existing bladder wasn’t possible. A new bladder had to be created, and the transplanted kidney was connected to it. After the procedure, Mahadevan gained the ability to control his urine.”
Mahadevan, the young magician and mentalist, considers this his second life, and he sees Neethu as a mother figure. Neethu, too, feels a unique bond with him. “I have two boys. Mahadevan is my third son.”