After Losing Their Children To Tsunami, This Couple Took It Upon Themselves To Adopt Orphan Children

Karibeeran Parameswaran has not celebrated his birthday since 2004, which falls on December 26. It only brings traumatic memories of the deadly disaster that took the lives of his three children. On that fateful day, Parameswaran took his children to the beach, 670 m from his home. His wife Choodamani’s brother and family, who had come from Bengaluru to spend the holidays with them, were also there. Between the sea and their house, there was a railway track. The waves pushed Parameswaran to the other side of the track, close to his house.

The killer waves of the tsunami washed the entire family away except for Karibeeran and his wife. “All of them were playing on the beach. It was my five-year-old son who first noticed that something very unusual was happening. When he screamed, I saw giant waves coming upon us. Before I could realise it, we all were washed away. I was holding my son’s hand but I lost him. As it was a Sunday, the beach was crowded. All of them were gone,” says Parameswaran.

In Nagapattinam, a coastal village in Tamil Nadu, more than 6,000 people were killed in the tsunami. Till that day, life for Karibeeran and Choodamani revolved around their children—12-year-old Rakshanya, nine-year-old Karunya and the youngest five-year-old Kripasan. “I was almost out of breath and just managed to catch hold of a palm tree. When the water receded, I realised that everyone was missing, including my youngest son, who was in my arms barely a few minutes ago. I ran back to the sea and saw my elder daughter floating on the side of the railway track. She was no more. I brought her home. Somebody told me that my son’s body was seen near the collector’s bungalow. I found his lifeless body near a bush there. After an hour, I found my second daughter’s body perched on a tree. All my relatives had vanished. We could find the dead bodies of only seven. Two are still missing,” Parameswaran tells Outlook.

It is hard to figure out what is going on in his mind as he narrates the events of the day that turned their lives upside down. However, Parameswaran and Choodamani, who work with ONGC and Life Insurance Corporation of India, respectively, did not let the tragic memories overwhelm them. Instead, they decided to put those memories behind by helping children orphaned by the tsunami and turn over a new leaf.

The entire village was devastated and grieving. Nobody could help the other. “I myself dug the graves of my children and buried them the same evening in a nearby cemetery. Choodamani did not utter a word for the next three days. On the fourth, she finally spoke when I suggested we commit suicide. We had no right to take our lives, she said, and asked me to go and find out what had happened to the rest of the villagers. We both went to a relief camp and fetched four packets of food. There we saw children who had lost both parents to the tsunami,” reminisces Parameswaran. They brought four of them to their home. “I believe that fetching food and seeing the four children there was no less divine intervention,” he adds.

That heralded a new beginning in their lives. Parameswaran and Choodamani turned their two-storied house into a shelter home as they brought in 17 children the tsunami had orphaned. “In the beginning, they would not stop crying. It takes time to heal,” he says.

The couple formalised the shelter home by registering a trust called Nambikkai, which in Tamil means trust. The home has grown big enough to provide shelter to more than 30 children, who call them appa (father) and amma (mother), respectively. Two more buildings were constructed in the compound to provide boarding facilities for boys and girls. Nambikkai is now functioning in association with the District Child Welfare Committee and friends based abroad provide financial support to run the home.

“We never know what life has in store for us. There was a time when I would get furious at the fishermen’s children whenever they barged into my compound to pluck fruits. But then I started bringing them home. I don’t think we were doing a great service. Rather, we were helping ourselves to deal with the trauma the tragedy had caused us,” says Parameswaran.

Both Parameswaran and Choodamani, born into a tribal community, embraced Christianity when they grew up. The couple now has two sons. Speaking to Outlook, Choodamani shared her optimism that her sons would take their legacy forward. “Both of them would continue this mission, they tell us. They grew up among the other children here,” Choodamani says.

Has she ever been able to come out of the traum of the loss of her three children? “I did not let the memories go. Not a single day passes without remembering them. But we have learned to transform those memories into happiness rather than grieve,” she puts it philosophically. “But whenever I meet my daughters’ friends, I feel an electric current passing through my body. I don’t think I will ever be able to come out of it in my life,” she adds.

Sathia Priya, who lost both her parents, was one year old when the couple brought her home. For Priya, the tsunami does not evoke any memories. “They are my amma and appa. I was too young to remember anything including my biological parents,” Priya tells Outlook. Priya is now working with an IT firm in Chennai and wants to support them in their lofty endeavour.

However, this is not the case with other children who have memories of their lost parents. Susipalan, for instance, was 12 when the killer waves took the life of his mother. She was a fish vendor who used to go to the beach early in the morning to buy fish. “On that day, she gave me some pocket money and went to the beach as usual. A woman neighbour was also there with her. After some time, we heard a huge, thunderous sound. I did not have any clue as to what was going on. Our neighbour came back screaming and told us that something terrible had happened. I understood that my mother was missing,” says Susipalan.

As the entire village was evacuated, Susipalan’s family could not go and look for his mother. “We found her body floating in a river 2 km from our place,” says Susipalan, recounting the horror. He had five siblings of whom he was the youngest. What he lost to the tsunami was not only his mother but also his childhood. “I feel that I grew up fast and have become more responsible,” he says. Susipalan lost his father six years later when he was 18. His elder brother, who studied physiotherapy, secured a job in the UK and began supporting the family. Susipalan joined an engineering college in the neighbouring town of Karakkal. While still a student, he was the sole caretaker of his sisters. “Being the only male member in the family, I had to take up all the responsibilities. After my sisters were married off, I was all alone at home. The same home where I had lived with my mom,” says Susipalan.

Now, Susipalan works as a project coordinator with an NGO established to support the children affected by the disaster. Though the generation of the tsunami-affected children is older, the NGO continues to provide support for the education and health of the children in the villages affected by the tragedy.

After dealing with the trauma of the tragedy that the disaster left in its wake, people there now face the spectre of unemployment and concomitant uncertainties. For instance, Anya Lakshmi of Nambiar Nagar in Nagapattinam was 22 when she lost both her parents to the tsunami. She was the oldest of her siblings. They were able to keep themselves afloat with the compensation of Rs 15 lakh they got from the government and educate themselves. Her brother is an MBA and sisters have diplomas in nursing and farming, respectively. However, none of them has got jobs in commensurate with their education.

“Unemployment is a bigger evil here,” says Sathyaseelan. A native of Nagapattinam, Sathyaseelan is the project head of Child Fund International. “Two years ago, we conducted a survey and found that among the fishermen in Nagapattinam, the number of people employed in government service is less than a hundred,” says Sathyaseelan.

J. Radhakrishnan, a disaster mitigation expert and former district collector of Nagapattinam, is of the opinion that education may be the passport to employment, but the community requires skill development and special training to get better employment. According to him, the impact of a natural disaster cannot be fully quantified by statistics alone. Even with compensation and rebuilding programmes, the emotional and psychological toll a disaster leaves in its wake is immeasurable and irreparable. Instead, the success of rebuilding and rehabilitation efforts should be measured by the resilience demonstrated by the affected community. Radhakrishnan and others, who played a role in Nagapattinam’s rebuilding, view it as a triumph of the community, highlighting its resilience in the face of adversity.

(This appeared in the print edition as "The Fruit Of Endurance")