Step into any civil court in Kerala, and one pattern repeats itself with numbing regularity — families locked in poisonous disputes over property. Court halls echo with surnames that once represented proud, united families. Today, those same names are dragged through legal mud: brother versus sister, brother versus brother, father against son, daughter against father. What should have been homes of love and kinship have turned into battlegrounds.
The Anatomy of Greed
It begins almost
innocently. Parents grow old. Property—land, houses, plantations, shops—sits
waiting to be divided. Theoretically, there are wills, partitions, or family
settlements. In practice, greed swallows everything.
One brother wants a
bigger share because he claims to have “looked after the parents.” A sister
demands her lawful right, but brothers snarl that daughters have already
been given gold in marriage. Children question fathers about inheritance
while the old man is still alive. And when death finally comes, it is not grief
that dominates the family courtyard but the question: “Who gets what?”
From Home to Courtroom
Once the quarrels
ignite, the courts become the new family gathering space. Lawyers thrive, fees
soar, and relatives waste their hard-earned money feeding a system that drags
on endlessly.
Cases linger for ten,
fifteen, twenty years. Generations grow old waiting for judgments. Court
records in Kerala are full of partition suits filed in the 1980s that are still
undecided. Judges retire, lawyers die, but the case files remain alive—ugly reminders
of greed that refuses to die.
And what happens to
the property while the case crawls through the legal jungle? Often it lies
unused, uncared for, and wasted. Beautiful ancestral homes decay. Coconut
groves wither. Prime plots lie locked in endless “status quo” orders. What
could have been productive assets turn into monuments of stubbornness.
Father vs Son, brother vs sister
The ugliest battles
are not between distant cousins but inside the closest bonds. Fathers dragging
sons to court for grabbing property without consent. Sons counter-suing
fathers, alleging unfair distribution. Daughters forced to sue their own
parents for denying them rightful shares.
What does this achieve? Nothing but humiliation. The family
that once prayed together in the same ancestral church now sits on opposite
benches in court, glaring at each other like sworn enemies. Weddings become
awkward, funerals turn hostile, and children grow up watching their parents and
uncles spit venom at each other.
The Cost of Litigation
The financial cost is staggering. Lakhs of rupees go into
legal fees, court expenses, endless travel to hearings. Families sell portions
of land just to fight over another portion. In the end, they lose both — money
and property.
But the emotional cost is far worse. Families break beyond
repair. Cousins become strangers. Parents die without reconciliation. Brothers
who grew up playing together end their lives not speaking to each other. All
this, over what? Mud, bricks, and paper deeds.
Kerala’s Paradox
Kerala prides itself on education, progress, and high social
awareness. Yet, in property matters, wisdom collapses. Families that preach
Christian or Hindu values of sacrifice and detachment throw them away when it
comes to inheritance. Even highly educated professionals — doctors, engineers,
NRIs — fight like wild animals for a few cents of land in their native place.
Ironically, many of these people already live in comfort
abroad or in cities. They don’t need the ancestral house or farmland.
But the thought of “losing” property to a sibling burns their ego. It is less
about need, more about pride and greed.
Generational Poison
The worst impact is on the next generation. Children grow up
witnessing uncles and aunts fighting in court. They absorb bitterness instead
of love. Cousins, instead of being friends, become lifelong rivals. The poison
of one generation seeps into the next, creating divisions that last decades.
Even after court cases end, wounds do not heal. A judgment
may say, “This land belongs to X, that house to Y.” But the real damage is
invisible—the complete breakdown of trust and affection.
Stories That Break the Heart
A retired teacher in Kottayam, aged 78, spends her final
years shuttling between court and hospital, fighting her own son who insists
she “gift” him the house. She wanted to let her daughter live there. Son and
mother, once inseparable, now don’t speak.
In Thrissur, two brothers stopped talking after their
father’s death in 1995. A partition suit has dragged on for 28 years. The
coconut grove they fought for now lies barren, overrun by weeds.
In Malappuram, a daughter had to fight her brothers for 15
years just to claim her legal share. By the time the case ended, the property
was sold off to pay debts and legal costs. She got nothing.
These are not isolated cases. They are the tragic reality of
thousands of Kerala families.
The Futility of it All
What is the point of all this? You will not carry property
to your grave. You will not take an inch of land or a brick of a house when you
die. Yet families destroy themselves over these temporary assets.
The irony is stark. Parents who sacrifice everything for
children end up becoming victims of the same children’s greed. Siblings who
once swore loyalty turn into courtroom enemies. Families who once gathered
joyfully for Onam feasts now cross paths only in courtrooms.
In the end, everyone loses. Money is lost. Time is lost.
Relationships are destroyed. Peace evaporates. And the so-called “victory” in
court feels hollow because the price paid is far greater than the gain.
Why Does It Happen?
The root cause is simple: greed and ego. Greed, because no
one is satisfied with their share. Ego, because giving up even a small portion
feels like “losing.” Add to this the encouragement from lawyers who see long
cases as profitable, and you have a recipe for endless battles.
The Way Forward
Kerala needs a cultural reset in how families handle
property.
Transparent wills and settlements: Parents must write clear
wills, registered and undisputed, before disputes arise.
Mediation instead of litigation: Families must resolve
matters through dialogue, mediation, and panchayats, not courts.
Equal treatment of daughters: Kerala must shed the outdated
notion that daughters are “outsiders.” They deserve equal rights.
Awareness of futility: Religious and community leaders must
hammer home the truth—property is temporary, relationships are permanent.
A Sad State of Affairs
At its core, this is a tragedy. Families that should be
sources of comfort have become breeding grounds of hatred. Courts that should
dispense justice are clogged with petty inheritance disputes. Generations waste
their lives chasing illusions of ownership.
Kerala, a state that prides itself on literacy, still
refuses to learn the simplest lesson: You cannot take property to the grave.
What you can take is the love and respect of your family. But sadly, too many
choose land over love, money over peace, and ego over harmony.
Until this mindset changes, the sad stories will keep
multiplying. The cemeteries of Kerala will continue to fill with people who
left behind nothing but bitterness. And the next generation will inherit not
property, but enmity.
No comments:
Post a Comment