The life and work of K.K. Kochu – Review of ‘Dalithan: An Autobiography’

One of the most significant books of the Dalit thinker and writer, is his autobiography, which also narrates the history of modern Kerala from the perspective of the marginalised

Writer and social activist K.K. Kochu liberated marginalised lives from silhouettes of celebrated mega-narratives and crafted an exhaustive telling of the wretched through his autobiography, Dalithan, originally published in Malayalam. Inspired by Brecht’s poem, the subaltern voice is sung; the cook and the servant find a space in the subterrains of history and society, free of mystified and exoticised undertones. Dalithan, a detailed picture of the personal, the political and the social, is, in fact, the perfect answer to Poykayil Appachan writing, “Not a single letter is seen on my race.”

Kochu’s work unlocks the life, history and organisational activities of the community right from the onset, against the flood-prone Madhuraveli, a land birthed and built by Pulayas. He sketches their lore and living through the Thaithara family, providing concrete renditions of what subsisted on oral narratives. Above all, Kochu is empathetic and authentic in his portrayals; whether it is the misery of Pulaya women who were grass sellers, or Untaan, the Pulaya youth -- a Robin Hood of sorts -- denied entry into the Aithihyamaala. Following their shift to Vazhavatta, owing to his brother’s psychological illness, Kochu’s life spirals into extreme poverty.

It is amusing to note that Kochu does not streamline the narrative to honour the autobiography tag. He does write about a life of extreme deprivation, but never to arouse pity. His marriage and children are only mentioned in passing, while his childhood is detailed to serve as an archetype for Dalit destitution.

Even the mention of black magic is a rebellion against institutionalised gods of the Savarna conscience. Life at Maharajas occupies a prominent chunk of the text, yet it is never about the man himself, but rather a chronology of political unrest and hostility towards Dalit students. As Kochu himself writes, he is an “ideological individual”.

Wary of political parties

Despite the initial affinity for Communist ideology, Kochu grows critical of institutionalised political fronts and states that he leaned on reading to discover a different political path. He addresses the “maniacal enthusiasm” with which Dalits boarded left-political outfits, in desperate attempts to wrest their lives from a pitiable living. Kochu critiques the party for its lack of substantial intervention to counter the multifarious oppressions encountered by the community. He emphasised on true liberation as an understanding of one’s social conditions and working towards changing it. Kochu writes, “With caste becoming more of a political than a social issue, it became difficult to find a platform for Dalit rights struggles in the Communist parties.” In a later account, he also mentions how a Dalit student’s political life is often relegated to pasting posters or attending rallies.

Kochu’s trysts with Naxalism operates in complex ways within his social and exceptionally political personal life and friendships. It unfolds against the Naxalite movements, the Emergency and release of political prisoners. ‘Jnana (knowledge)’ and ‘karma (action)’ are one and the same for this luminary; his politics, steered by opposition to poverty and violence, was not one of convenience despite facing extreme financial struggles.