The author shares a nostalgic reflection on ‘encounters’ with M T Vasudevan Nair, revealing his creative brilliance and personal warmth.
The demise of veteran Malayalam writer M. T. Vasudevan Nair has left an irreplaceable void in Kerala’s cultural landscape. Since his passing in the last week of December 2025, his unparalleled contributions and achievements continue to be celebrated daily. For me, his loss brings back cherished memories of the precious moments I was fortunate to share with him.
MT was one of the two literary giants for whom I was a person of mistaken identity. It was after many years of acquaintance with the two that they realised I was a professor of Physics.
During the 1990s, I was a member of the Senate of Calicut University, representing the College Teachers’ constituency. During this period, the University decided to confer honorary doctorates on M T Vasudevan Nair and Dr. P. S. Warrier of Kottakkal. It was a privilege for Senate members to be seated on the dais alongside the dignitaries.
As MT entered the stage, I received him and guided him to his seat. A shadow of doubt appeared on his ever-tough countenance and he asked me, “Why here”. When I explained, his response was in a monosyllable, “Oho”. He was not to blame, for whenever we had met, I was in the garb of a journalist. Moreover, he used to follow my columns also.
The making of Nalukettu
Perhaps the first ‘encounter’ was at the shooting location of Nalukettu at Killimangalam off Cheruthuruthy. Doordarshan had requested him to produce the legendary novel as a serial. The producers approached M. K. Das, then the Resident Editor of Indian Express, Kochi, with a request to cover the event. Das was delighted but remarked, “You needn’t have travelled all the way to Kochi when George S. Paul is available in Thrissur.”.
I was overjoyed when they conveyed this and arrived at the location along with them. It was in a deep interior village. The lonely ramshackle house in the compound appeared like an island over a sea of land. It was humming with people. Slightly away M T was seated in a chair alone with only one chair in front of him.
I could see for the first time a full cheerful smile blossom on his face on seeing me. And he nodded me to the only chair. I felt a bit uncomfortable as a few renowned poets kept standing around. Naturally, he might have taken me for a staff of Indian Express as the team hanging around had gone to Kochi and came back with me.
He spoke at length on the project. “I did the novel in 1956 when I was only 22. The range of the character Appunni as he grows from 12 to 24 years is not ideal for a feature film. Delhi Doordarshan had asked for a serial of the novel for their national network and also for the Metro channel which I refused since all the intrinsic features would be lost when produced in Hindi. Meticulous care is being taken to compromise the least in this one.”
The discussion naturally entered into other cultural area. I reminded him about his speech at Palakkad on an occasion which I had reported to Indian Express. It was purely on literature and if my memory does not fail me, on the varied styles of narration in different literary branches. I asked him why he is not keen on writing on such topics. The reply was only a subdued ‘Hmmm’, but added that he had seen the report.
Arrangements for a shot were ready by that time. As the assistant director called out, ‘Action’, a boy in his early teens appeared from nowhere and kept running towards the house. But a mild voice of ‘Cut’ came from the director. With his ever-present beedi on his lips M T got up and moved gently to the boy, whispered a few words into his ears, looked through the view-finder of the camera and returned to his seat. Soon the take was declared okay.
The conversation continued until I wished him success and bade goodbye. But he insisted that I take a look inside the house. There I found Bindu Panicker and Sobin, the young boy squatting on the floor. And I left. My story appeared on May 26, 1995.
A few months after, V T Bhattathirirpad’s historic play “Adukkalayil Ninnu Arangethu’ was being staged at VT’s village in which some of the original actors were participating. One of my young friends compelled me to join him to witness the play. M T was to inaugurate it. On his arrival, he was mobbed by the fans which prevented me from getting anywhere near him. Fortunately he noticed me and waved with a smile – an indication that he had seen my write up on the shooting of the novel.
Personal anecdotes
Dr Vasundhara Doraswamy the renowned danseuse known for her Yoga exploits wanted MT to inaugurate her festival in Mysore. Apart from my negotiations, Vasundhara’s contact with Kalamandalam Saraswathy proved successful.
The programme was arranged at Jagamohan Palace in Mysore. A Sarod concert by Prof Rajiv Tharanath was an added attraction of the programme. We were all seated in the front row waiting for MT’s arrival. I was taken aback when Tharanath was seen running to the door literally screaming, “MT, MT”. He hugged him tight and received both MT and Saraswathy. I wondered how this maestro knew MT.
The function was memorable as MT made a memorable speech on dance as well as his relation with Tharanath. That the musician had scored background music to MT’s few films was news to me.
After a few months, Saraswathy invited Vasundhara for inauguration and a performance at her own festival at Kozhikode. I arrived at the hotel slightly early to find MT searching for his guests. He was happy that I also had turned up for the event. The guests were yet to arrive. MT wanted me to visit Saraswathy’s dance school and took me in his car. We reached the beautiful institution whose architecture was suited well for a dance school. He took me around and made me sign the visitor’s book.
On the way back, as we were talking, I asked him why literary people in Kerala were in general averse to performing arts. MT said “I always accepted the invitation to such programmes and held the artistes in high esteem”. And as if to corroborate the point I had raised, he narrated a story.
“After a literary festival in Thiruvananthapuram, all the writers including me were returning in a train. All on a sudden a tall man ran to him and hugged him crying ‘Vasoooo’. Nobody amongst us could identify the man who took such a audacious gesture. After he left, I revealed the identity of the person: Kalamandalam Gopi. They were all surprised”.
Saraswathy was felicitated once at Kozhikode and the organisers wanted me to speak. The meeting was in the Town hall. As I took the podium, I could see MT seated in the front row along with the crowded audience. I began my speech by requesting him to come to the stage and he beckoned to me, ‘No’. While I was returning, he thanked me for the good words I had spoken about Saraswathy.
I had communication with him only rarely but he was keen on replying to me. There were occasions when I met him at Kerala Sahithya Akademi, during his term as its president. Honestly speaking I saw a mobile phone for the first time in his hands only.
A man of few words, MT spoke at length to those who were dear to him. When I look back, I feel proud that I was one among them.
