I see myself as just one of many generations of ordinary readers who have experienced the subtleties of both the individual and societal psyche.

Like any Malayali with an appreciation for reading, I have been deeply touched and influenced by the characters and mental landscapes created by MT Vasudevan Nair. Whether through the grand figures of epics and myths or the everyday lives of ordinary people in the countryside, MT captures the inner struggles and sorrows that manifest in people across the world.

Perhaps few writers among us have made the peculiarities and contradictions of Kerala life feel so real. The magic of MT's distinctive language and storytelling style, which remains fresh and relevant to every generation, is what draws even an average literature lover like me into his literary world.

Not just Appunni, Govindan Kutty, Kuttyedathi, and Velichappadu, but also his later characters like Bheeman, Panchali, and Sherlock are familiar to me. In the rare but precious moments I get to read, my hand still reaches for his Randamoozham. Even now, it continues to amaze me, adding a new layer with each reading.

Bhiman in MT's 'Randamoozham' | Illustration: BS Pradeep Kumar

When I read MT, I feel as though I gain a newfound ability to perceive life in different ways. The complexities he weaves into his stories, the unresolved elements at the end, and the unexpected twists fill me with curiosity and wonder. I found something in those stories that captivated us – something about the world of Malayali life that I could relate to. My father used to say that a writer cannot escape his environment, nor can he authentically write about another place. That must have been what I experienced in MT – a reflection of my own emotional surroundings. I had what could be called an ‘engrossed reading’ experience while surfing through his works.

I can still recognise the inner thoughts and emotions of MT's characters, even after all these years. Bheeman and Appunni found their strength and desire to grow in the neglect they faced. It was only when I read their stories that I realised those standing at the margins are the ones full of life and color, rather than those at the forefront. True writers are those who can look with compassion at those who are denied opportunities, pushed aside, and stripped of their identity. Only those writers survive the times. Only their characters endure.

I know MT as a filmmaker a bit more closely than I know him as a writer. The influence of his films has left a lasting imprint on my childhood and adolescence. From Olavum Theeravum and Murappennu to Oru Vadakkan Veeragatha and Kerala Varma Pazhassiraja, I’ve seen nearly all of MT’s films. I can remember most of the characters and storylines. Mayinkutty, Chandu, Janakikutty and Velichappadu are not just figures on the screen to me; they feel like people I know well, figures from my own life. It’s easy to remember them because they are among us… one of us.

MT infront of his ancestral home | Photo: Mathrubhumi

I also know MT as the newspaper editor. I wasn’t there when he first started at Mathrubhumi. Though I had seen him when I accompanied my father there as a child, I didn’t know him personally. It was only on my second visit that I had the chance to meet him. At that time, MT was the editor of the periodicals. My father had a routine: most days, when he came to the office, he would first go to MT’s office before heading to his own. There would be a small greeting, sometimes a brief discussion – often about lofty literary subjects. On rare occasions, I would be there simply as a listener. We’ve known each other since then.

Even after leaving Mathrubhumi, our relationship has remained strong. Whenever we meet, he shows me special consideration, a respect that extends to the great institution that is Mathrubhumi. There is a closeness between its two links. 'Today, and always, he is part of the Mathrubhumi family. He has often said, at many Mathrubhumi forums, that he is proud of it. He attends any Mathrubhumi event he was invited to. Despite his physical limitations, he travelled to Thiruvananthapuram for three days to attend the last Mathrubhumi Literary Festival. He also came as the chief guest for the centenary celebration. No other name in the world of writers is as closely associated with Mathrubhumi as his.

I don't have to highlight MT's achievements as an editor. Every writer, past and present, in Malayalam literature has already done that. There is no greater testament than when they say that MT was the one who discovered and encouraged them. When they say that those were the glorious days of Mathrubhumi Weekly, we share in the pride of that legacy. What institution wouldn't be proud of an editor who took the time to write personal letters to everyone, in his own handwriting? Those letters are treasures that everyone who received them would keep even today.

MT Vasudevan Nair and MV Shreyams Kumar | Photo: Mathrubhumi

I've often thought about what future generations, myself included, should learn from MT. I believe it is concentration. Whenever I see him, he is surrounded by books, fully immersed, almost as if in meditation. The latest releases are always on his table, alongside classics by writers like Marquez. There is a constant cycle of reading and rereading in that.

He only managed to find Bhiman after reading the Mahabharata countless times. That is penance – silent penance. In that silence, he constantly renews himself. The heights he has reached are the rightful outcome of that dedication. MT stands as an embodiment of concentration, unwavering and focused, never straying from his chosen path.