Ah, Kerala – the land of serene backwaters, fragrant spices, and a societal harmony so deeply rooted that even our legendary monsoons feel like a polite negotiation. Known as “God’s Own Country,” it’s where Hindus, Muslims, Christians, and everyone in between have shared festivals, feasts, and futures for generations without turning dinner into a declaration of war. This is the cradle of Sankaracharya, Sri Narayana Guru, and countless social reformers who preached unity over division. Here, a benevolent Hindu king built the nation’s first mosque, the Cheraman Masjid; St. Thomas, the first Christian preacher, set foot on our shores; and Buddhism, Jainism, and Judaism flourished in peaceful coexistence, like old friends at a perpetual tea party. Yet here arrives The Kerala Story 2: Goes Beyond, whose trailer stirs not just curiosity but a bubbling cauldron of controversy. In one scene, a Hindu woman is shown being force-fed cooked beef by two Muslim women and a man from the community — a depiction the director defends with claims of “research” from court verdicts and media reports. As a man in my seventies, born and raised in Kollam, Kerala, with 45 years in mainstream journalism, I can say with certainty: I’ve chased stories through every district, from temple festivals to coastal conflicts, but never once encountered reports of such forced beef consumption. Is this rigorous research or a deliberate recipe for division, cooked up to appeal to one side while alienating another?
Let’s stir this cauldron properly. The film maker boasts of verified facts, yet the narrative smells strongly of selective distortion — casting one community as aggressors to soothe the sensitivities (and wallets) of another. It’s classic alchemy: prejudice transmuted into profit. And oh, the pain it inflicts! As someone who’s witnessed Kerala’s tranquil tapestry firsthand, the agony of seeing such distorted visuals peddled as “creativity” gnaws at my soul. The anxiety is relentless: what if these reel-life fabrications ignite real-life fractures in our non-communal, democratic haven? This venom-spitting cinema arrives precisely when certain communal elements are already frothing at the mouth, dividing society along lines of religion, caste, and community — as if our reformers’ legacies weren’t sacred enough. How sarcastic the timing: in the land where kings built mosques and apostles preached peace, filmmakers now brew hate for box-office bucks, ignoring that beef is a beloved, voluntary staple here. Around 70-75% of Hindus in Kerala relish beef, often cooking it at home in the famous Kerala style known for its spicy, coconut-infused taste. Over 98% of Keralites are non-vegetarian, with most Hindus enthusiastically non-veg, savoring various beef varieties like fry, curry, or roast. In non-veg eateries across the state, beef outsells fish or chicken, making it the common king of Kerala’s dishes. Statistics hammer this home: Kerala consumes about 2.7 lakh tonnes of beef annually — translating to roughly 740 tonnes daily — a testament to its cultural normalcy, not coercion. Protests flare from groups decrying the film’s alleged misinformation and communal poison, while supporters vow to ensure its statewide release come February 27, 2026. Instant outrage, viral debates, packed theaters — mission accomplished. These so-called creative minds aren’t weaving tales; they’re brewing storms in teacups (or cauldrons) for commercial harvest. In a state where communal harmony is our lived reality — not a slogan — injecting such venom is like spiking the sacred toddy at a village feast: it might intoxicate a few, but poisons the shared spirit for the many.
The irony runs deep, laced with bitter sarcasm. Kerala stands as a model of secular democracy: interfaith marriages, joint Onam celebrations, and politics that prioritize progress over prejudice. We’ve overcome caste barriers, achieved near-total literacy, and weathered crises together, honoring the amity that let diverse faiths bloom side by side. But filmmakers, those modern myth-makers, seem determined to rewrite our story with hate-filled footnotes, mocking the benevolence of our kings and the wisdom of our gurus. They sacrifice societal tranquility on the altar of ticket sales, turning potential unity into engineered enmity. Do they dream of transforming this paradise into a devil’s cauldron, where suspicion simmers in every household? Imagine backwaters churning with boycotts, coconut groves whispering accusations, all because some director deemed truth optional when fiction sells faster. It’s darkly satirical — like a chef proudly serving poison as gourmet cuisine, insisting it’s “inspired by real events,” while we choke on the fumes of fractured fraternity.
And the punchline? The censor board’s green light. How does content this inflammatory pass muster? In a country quick to snip smoking or slang, allowing sparks that could ignite real flames is perplexing. Legal scrutiny is overdue — not merely of scripts, but of motives. Who finances these divisive dramas? What agendas hide behind the camera? Perhaps enforce “harmony impact assessments” pre-release, or impose fines that sting the bottom line. If healers take an oath to “do no harm,” shouldn’t storytellers pledge “do no divide”?
Ultimately, The Kerala Story 2 isn’t cinema; it’s cynicism disguised as storytelling, peddled at our collective expense. As it approaches release, let reason prevail over rage. Kerala deserves narratives that celebrate our unity, not ones that boil over into bitterness. Let’s preserve God’s Own Country — not let it become a cauldron for communal cowboys chasing quick riches.
*Authored By A Creative Scribe Proud of Keral’s Unity In Diversity
