Snehaveedu is an old-age home in Ambalappuzha, Kerala, with around 20 elderly people abandoned by their families. Whenever they can, Akash Kunjumon and A. Aiswarya sponsor a meal for them. Today is a special day. It is their son Arush’s first birthday. When we arrive, we are ushered to a table and served a sumptuous meal of rice, vegetables and chicken curry. The dishes have been prepared by Akash’s family, who own a small tea shop nearby. Akash, says Aiswarya, has always had a helping mentality. It is one of the things that first drew her to him.
“I have an older cousin who is very service-minded,” says Akash. “From her, I got the desire to serve. I volunteer with the local fire force and also help out at a nearby palliative care facility.”
Akash and Aiswarya met during the pandemic when both joined the same hospital, he as a member of the cleaning staff and she as a nurse. “He is very quiet,” says Aiswarya. “Although he is friendly, he doesn’t go overboard. I liked that about him.”
Love, however, was not on the cards. “My ambition had been to start a farm,” says Akash. “At the age of 18, I went to the Gulf for six years and worked in aluminum fabrication. My only thought then was to make enough money to get my two sisters married off. I had not considered the possibility of my own marriage.”
Since they are from different castes—he is an Ezhava and she a Nair—her parents were dead set against the match. Aiswarya was locked in a room and forbidden to see Akash. She went into a deep depression. Finally, Akash and his family had to spirit her away. But their story really starts on their wedding day. They registered their marriage on August 6, 2021, and decided on a temple wedding on August 18, the only day when both got leave. Although they visited many temples, only one agreed to conduct the wedding—the Panayannarkavu Devi Temple in Alappuzha—without Covid certificates and their parents’ signed agreement.
Two days prior to the wedding, heavy rainfall caused flooding and landslides in various parts of Kerala. The temple was in a low-lying area around 15km from their home. In the morning, temple authorities called to say that the premises were flooded. “We didn’t have the option of postponing the wedding because this was the only day we had been granted leave,” says Aiswarya. Finally, the authorities relented. They said they would arrange a ferry, but at the last moment, the ferry became unavailable because of a medical emergency.
That is when someone suggested that there was a large cooking pot nearby. They could be transported to the temple in it. By then all the television channels were at the spot to cover the floods. A TV reporter suggested the wedding be captured live. Visuals of the couple floating to the temple in the cooking pot went viral, with international media like the BBC and The Seattle Times picking up the story.
“It was a unique experience,” says Aiswarya. “I was a little scared at the possibility of the pot overturning.”
After marriage, Aiswarya was overwhelmed by her new family. She had grown up as a single child, her father being a driver and her mother, an ASHA (health care) worker. She had a lonely childhood, never being allowed to go out to play. She used to tag alongside her mother to the homes she visited. That’s how she decided to become a nurse. Akash grew up in a large family. All the 20 or so houses in their neighbourhood belonged to relatives. “We were all very close,” he says. “I used to walk in and out of every house as if it was my own. There were not even any walls or fences.” Joining such a large family was a sea-change for Aiswarya, but she says she is thoroughly enjoying it. Her only sorrow used to be that her parents were still not speaking to her.
Finally, it was after the birth of their son that they became reconciled. Arush was born premature, with five holes in his heart. He spent one month in the NICU. This time was hell for Akash and Aiswarya. There was the uncertainty of not knowing whether he would make it. Then there were the exorbitant hospital expenses. “Every day, our earnings from the tea shop would go straight towards paying the hospital bills,” says Akash. “We were crushed financially.”
Their families, however, stood by them like a rock. “People, regardless of their caste, class or religion, came forward to help us,” says Aiswarya. “It reinforced our belief in humanity. That is our only hope for our son. We don’t care what he becomes as long as he has a heart to help others.”