Independent candidates in elections across the nation are curious characters. The lack of money, muscle power, and organisational strength has never been an impediment to their entering the fray, even when it is dominated by candidates of established political parties who have everything at their command. One among them was Poomedai  Ramaiah.

Clad in a white khadi outfit and Gandhi cap, he would move around the streets of Nagercoil on his bicycle, often walking alongside and pushing it, putting up posters that minced no words about local politics and the inactivity of government offices, particularly the Nagercoil Municipal Corporation. ‘Poomedai 666 Watts; Thottal Adikkum Shock’ was a slogan that frequently appeared on his posters, boldly proclaiming his own “power”.

Kotti — roughly translating to “eccentric” — a short story from the collection Aram Sirukathaikal by writer Jayamohan, seeks to capture the character that was Poomedai Ramaiah. Not many took him seriously, yet he had his own band of followers who would gather at the grounds of the Nagercoil Municipality — now a Municipal Corporation — to attend his meetings. At times, these meetings were held near Veppamoodu  Junction.

He would carry his own table and chair, set them up, and hoist a white flag bearing the poomedai (a round flower garland). Local shopkeepers did not mind providing an electricity connection for a few hours to support his meetings. After all, the crowds often translated into more customers for nearby tea stalls.

A Gandhian, he would begin his meetings with a prayer and slogans.  Ramaiah had mastered the art of public speaking, and his speeches were often peppered with comic remarks that evoked laughter. Some of his comments were so layered that it took time for the audience to grasp their full meaning. He could speak on local, national, and international politics with equal ease.

“At one meeting, he spoke about the attack on Kamaraj in Delhi, which he referred to as Vadakku [the North]. He then said he had asked a local Congress leader about the attack that took place in the North. But the Congressman replied that he had been busy with the harvest in the northern part of Kanniyakumari district,” recalled Professor V.  Umaiyorubhagan.

Few details are available about Ramaiah. Contrary to the claim — also found in Jayamohan’s story — that he was born in Kottaram, Ramaiah  was, in fact, born at Vadakku Thamaraikulam in Kanniyakumari district. He lived in Kottaram when he had disputes with his brother. Ramaiah  had participated in the freedom movement and in the struggle to annex Kanniyakumari to Tamil Nadu. Well versed in the works of  Vallalar Ramalinga Adigal, he also ran his own magazine Meimurasu. His lectures on Vallalar were a treat even to scholars.

“Have you read Meimurasu? The 28th volume is out. I have written about the worship of light,” he would say in the short story Kotti.

Ramaiah was relatively wealthy and well read. “He was a member of the Communist Party but did not remain with it after the split in 1964. By that time, he had also earned a reputation as an eccentric. He lost most of his wealth by contesting in elections, organising meetings, and publishing his journal,” said 96-year-old N. Manickam, a CPI(M) leader.

Mr. Manickam said Ramaiah also contested in the Suchindram town panchayat election, and his symbol was seeni chatti (frying pan). His rivals were Gopinath, a renowned CPI(M) leader, and Sornam Pillai, a local bigwig. “Ramaiah would say the road-roller of Sornam Pillai is fit only for the streets, and the pumpkin of Gopinath cannot be used a day after it is cooked. But seeni chatti can be kept permanently in the kitchen,” he said.

Ramaiah’s posters was ubiquitous, particularly in the narrow by-lanes of Nagercoil town, where men would hide to answer the call of nature. His posters carried slogans such as ‘Thideer Current Cut Vizha’ (for power cuts) and ‘Thideer Saakkadi Moodu Vizha’ (highlighting the poor condition of sewage). ‘Poomedai Muzhangukirar,’ they would proclaim.

He used to contest on the paanai (pot) symbol; later, it became aanai  (elephant). “Remember, our symbol is not paanai, but aanai,” he would remind voters. He contested in local bodies elections, Assembly elections, Lok Sabha elections, and by-elections. Well-wishers would pay for his deposit. But he never recovered it. 

In the early 1990s, his voice gradually faded before falling silent. Mr. Manickam said he retired to a temple at Vadasery near Nagercoil  and subsisted on temple food in his final years. He died in 1996. 

Published – March 30, 2026 10:13 pm IST


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