Review of The Corpse Collector by Vinu P. and Niyas Kareem

The essence of the memoir, The Corpse Collector: A True Story, can be distilled into two defining moments. The first is a poignant scene where a 15-year-old schoolboy wades through the mighty Periyar river to retrieve the decaying body of a dear friend. The narration is so raw that the wetness of the water, the putrid smell of the corpse, and the boy’s anguish are almost palpable. This first encounter with death becomes a turning point that charts the course of Vinu P.’s life. He finds purpose in serving the dead, assisting the police with victims of unnatural deaths, and eventually embracing his identity as a “corpse collector.”

The second scene illustrates the devastating social cost of this calling. While attending a relative’s wedding, Vinu joins the guests for the sadya (feast). He sits before a plantain leaf topped with rice and curries, but just as he is about to eat, he is asked to leave. His eyes well up at the crushing humiliation of being shunned by his own people, and he walks out. Together, these incidents capture the core of his story: the visceral reality of his work as a professional corpse handler and the status of a social pariah that it inevitably brings him.

Written by Vinu P. and Niyas Kareem, and translated sensitively by Ministhy S., the book transcends the grim documentation of death, becoming an exploration of how we define humanity. The narrative follows Vinu’s journey through the most harrowing environments — recovering bodies from railway tracks, wading through faeces-filled canals, and crawling through claustrophobic pipelines. For Vinu, this is far more than a vocation; he performs his duties with meticulous care and veneration.

Whether he is retrieving a semi-decomposed body from water or carefully lowering a hanging corpse, Vinu eschews clinical “techniques.” Instead, he simply hugs the body with quiet reverence, ensuring the fragile, decaying remains do not detach or suffer further indignity. Over 25 years, he has recovered thousands of bodies for the police and buried unclaimed ones using his own limited resources, driven by a steadfast belief that the dead deserve respect.

Yet, his life is defined by solitude and sorrow. Despite providing an essential service, Vinu is shunned with the same hostility reserved for a rabid animal. His social isolation is so severe that, denied the company of the living, he begins to seek solace in the most unexpected, heartbreaking ways. His story is a searing portrait of a man who offers the ultimate dignity to the dead, only to be denied basic humanity by the living.

The Corpse Collector is also a tribute to Vinu’s asanmar (masters) — a band of elderly mentors who exist on the extreme fringes of society. These senior corpse collectors camp under overbridges with almost no belongings, remaining perpetually inebriated and speaking in a string of expletives, fully accustomed to their status as outcasts. Their lives often end in profound loneliness. It is against this backdrop of abandonment that Vinu shares his ultimate dream; it serves as a heartbreaking testament to his yearning to grant the forgotten a peaceful, dignified rest.

However, Vinu’s life is not entirely defined by shadows; light enters in the form of a nursing assistant, Bincy. Some policemen treat him with affection and compassion. Vinu’s statement that “the Kerala Police is my greatest support and succour” is born from a rare, unblemished bond with the authorities. There are also unexpected acts of grace — an elderly woman in Canada sends financial aid and an eatery owner prioritises feeding Vinu over the risk of losing prejudiced patrons.

The Corpse Collector stands as a moving portrait of quiet heroism thriving on the extreme edges of society. It is a stark reminder that the truest form of compassion is that which is extended to those who can no longer ask for it, and from whom nothing can be gained in return.

The Corpse Collector

Vinu P. and Niyas Kareem

Juggernaut

₹699

navamy.sudhish@thehindu.co.in