Follow TNM's WhatsApp channel for news updates and story links
On the morning of December 28, after another night without sleep, Athira* sat in the stillness of her home mumbling to herself. For a week, ever since the tragedy on December 22, everyday has been like this. Her hands shook as she scrolled through her phone, watching videos of her daughter, Shreya*, dancing.
“She was just like me,” Athira said, her voice barely audible. “She loved to dance. She’d learn steps from the TV and practice on her own. She sang so beautifully, my child...”
The words often dissolved into a soundless, dry grief. The tears had stopped, replaced by a heavy, unmistakable ache. Despite the storm of social media vitriol and the finger-pointing that has followed the deaths, Athira remains focused on a single purpose.
“Let them blame me. Let them target me online or come to kill me. I don’t care,” she said, her resolve cutting through the grief. “I am living only to seek justice for my daughter. She didn’t get it while she was alive, but she will have it now.”
On December 22, in their home at Ramanthali, Athira’s husband, Kaladharan, poisoned Shreya (6) and their two-year-old son Naveen*, before he and his mother, Usha, died by suicide. A note, written by Kaladharan, blamed Athira for the deaths.
Since the deaths of her children and husband, Athira has faced sustained and targeted attacks on social media and even in the mainstream media. Major news channels aired sound bites from even distant relatives of her husband, many of whom blamed her for the deaths. This was done without any attempt to contact Athira, her lawyer, or anyone associated with her. Several reports questioned a POCSO case filed by Athira against her father-in-law, accusing him of sexually harassing her daughter. This case was framed as a 'trap' by Athira.
“When news emerges about a mother killing her children, public scrutiny immediately turns against the mother. She is blamed without question. In this case, even when the father killed the children, the scrutiny still fell on the mother. She has faced unimaginable online abuse and targeted campaigns against her,” said Sulfath M Sulu, a women’s rights activist.
Some mainstream media outlets which reported on the incident reduced a grave POCSO case, one in which the Crime Branch recently filed a chargesheet, to a mere family dispute. Many reports described it as drama within the household, without even verifying the FIR in the case.
Athira now lives at her home in Annur, Payyannur, about 12 kilometres from Ramanthali. Speaking to TNM at her house, she struggled to piece together the traumatic experiences she endured. As she spoke, she repeatedly looked at videos of her children on her phone, listened to recordings of them calling out “Amma, Amma,” and then broke down in tears. She recounted the events that unfolded between December 20 and 22.
Since April 2025, after a POCSO case was registered against her father-in-law, Kaladharan and Athira have been living separately. A court order allowed Kaladharan to meet the children only at public places and prohibited him from taking them to the house where his father lived. “But when he came and pleaded, I allowed him to take the children with him to his house. He promised me that Unnikrishnan (Kaladharan’s father) was living separately and that they would not meet. I later learned that he had been taking my daughter to meet his father during those days,” she said.
This continued from June until December 2025.
“It was on December 20 that the Kannur district court granted me full custody of my two children. My husband was also present in court. I took the children home, and on the way I stopped at a restaurant to buy food for them. My daughter was crying because she wanted to see her father; she was very attached to him. He then came there, we all ate together, and after that the children went with him in his vehicle, while I returned home in an autorickshaw,” she said. The custody decree happened during the hearing of the POCSO case.
“When we reached home, my son wanted to go with them as well. He took both children and said he would buy some things for them and drop them back home. He made a few video calls which I did not answer. Later, in a voice call, which I picked up, he said that if I wanted to see my children for the last time, I should pick up the call,” she recalled.
She said he then began threatening her, saying that along with biriyani he had also bought something else (poison). Shocked, Athira tried to calm him down. “I consoled him and asked him to come home, saying we would think about living together and discuss everything. He then came home with the children and spoke for a long time. We spoke lovingly, and he also told me that he was facing financial problems amounting to Rs 10 lakh. The next day, he came and took Shreya, my daughter, to his house,” she added.
Kaladharan later informed Athira that Shreya did not want to return home and told her that she could pick her up from school the next day, on December 22.
“On that morning, he called me and said he wanted the younger child as well, for some documentation purpose, and asked me to bring him outside the house. He came with Shreya, who was dressed in her school uniform. I kissed and hugged them both and sent them with him. In the evening, when I messaged the school teacher, she told me that Shreya had not come to school. Kaladharan’s phone was switched off and I got scared,” Athira said.
She then went to the Kannur SP office, where they also tried calling him, but his phone was still switched off. “The police then assigned the Pink Police to check on them. I returned home. I did not know anything until late in the evening, when a relative informed my brother. That is how we came to know,” she said. One of the major allegations Athira faced during the online attacks was that the children did not want to live with her and were more attached to Kaladharan’s family. However, Athira says this perception was the result of long-term, deliberate manipulation.
Athira, who is now 27, was married at the age of 20 to Kaladharan in December 2018. He was more than ten years older than her. From the beginning of her married life, Athira alleges she was subjected to severe domestic violence.
“They branded me immature and mentally ill. Not just my husband, everyone in his family beat me. They even used a cane. I was the youngest, so it was easy for them. When I was pregnant, I was starved and beaten. That was the first time I came back to my parental home, after a fight,” she recalls, her cheeks streaked with dried tears.
After the birth of her daughter Shreya, the abuse worsened. Athira says her mother-in-law Usha and father-in-law took the child away from her when she was just three months old. “They asked me to help Kaladharan in his catering business and said I was not working because I was using the child as an excuse. I worked day and night with him. They did not even allow me to feed my baby, put her to bed, or bathe her,” she said.
“They made her sleep with the grandparents. I was helpless, and even Kaladharan supported it,” Athira added. “As she grew older, when she was around three, she began falling sick frequently. They would take her to the hospital themselves and would not even inform me, even though we were living in the same house.”
Psychologist and social activist Thaniya K Leela said Athira was extremely vulnerable and deeply attached to Kaladharan. “This was the reason why she endured years of abuse. It was not just physical violence. She was repeatedly branded as unstable and immature, and the children were systematically kept away from her,” she said.
Thaniya said that Athira and Kaladharan came to her for counselling a few years ago. “I was strictly warned to report to the police about physical assault. But for Kaladharan a husband hitting his wife was a non-issue,” she said.
Thaniya said Athira was portrayed as mentally ill because reacted to the injustices she faced within the family. “This talking back was something a conservative, patriarchal family could not tolerate. They always kept a stick ready to beat her. Whenever she resisted their advances, she was punished. They went around telling neighbours and relatives that she had mental health issues,” she said.
Athira said it was easy for them to spread such a narrative in a village, where everyone believed it. “When two socially accepted figures like my in-laws told people that I was mentally ill, everyone believed them. They reinforced this by taking my child away from me. They did not even allow me to breastfeed her. Because I was stopped from feeding, I developed an infection, yet they still did not allow me to feed my child,” she said, breaking down.
When the torture intensified, Athira returned to her parental home, leaving her husband behind. “She was extremely vulnerable then, and Kaladharan kept pressuring her to come back. Around 2022, she returned with him without our consent. For the next two years, they completely cut off her contact with us. Only when Shreya was admitted to the hospital in April were we able to go there and realise that she had been living through hell all these years,” Athira’s mother said.
“They didn’t just spread this narrative within their family. They carefully planned and circulated the claim that Athira was mentally ill even among our relatives,” she added.
Athira said the situation worsened in March after she noticed bruises on her child’s body and questioned it. “By then, Unnikrishnan had already told everyone around that my mental condition had deteriorated,” she said.
Unnikrishnan, Kaladharan’s father, who is referred to only as “grandfather” in the POCSO FIR, is a well-known figure in the region. He works as an autorickshaw driver and is also a theatre artist. “He has links across political parties. Several well-known politicians have visited our house and even attended our wedding,” Athira said.
In the first week of March 2025, when Usha went abroad to take care of her younger son’s child, Athira was allowed to take care of her own children again. “On March 4, while I was giving Shreya a bath, she would not let me touch her private parts. She cried and said there was a burning sensation. This continued on the following days as well,” Athira recalled.
One day, Athira spoke to her daughter in detail, and Shreya revealed that Achachan, her grandfather, had assaulted her at night while she was sleeping with her grandparents. “She told me that when she cried in pain, her Achachan would put a toffee in her mouth. He also threatened her, saying he would kill me if she told anyone,” Athira alleged.
Athira said she remained in shock for several days and did not know how to respond. She was not in touch with her relatives at the time, as they were angry that she had returned to Kaladharan after earlier instances of domestic violence.
When Unnikrishnan learned that Shreya had spoken to Athira about the abuse, he allegedly spread a narrative among relatives that Athira’s mental illness had worsened and that she was fabricating stories. From then on, Athira was not allowed to go near her child or even step out of the house.
“Even after this, my child was forced to sleep with him. I begged her to sleep with me, but she was terrified and said Achachan would kill her,” Athira said.
Towards the end of March one day Athira recalls Shreya fell really sick. “She was vomiting, she had red marks all over her body. The next day she had severe vomiting and stomach pain. I took a few pictures of it and sent it to a relative. She told me not to stay back anymore,” she said.
From that point, Athira began planning to escape. “On April 2, I somehow fled with my children. We walked almost two kilometres and reached a hospital. They referred us to a government hospital, where doctors confirmed what my child had said. They gave a report to the police, and an FIR was registered after recording my child’s statement,” she said.
Athira’s mother and brother reached the hospital, meeting her for the first time in two years. She said she had not been allowed to contact them, as Kaladharan had deleted their contacts from her phone and barred her from speaking to them.
Based on the child’s statement and the medical report, the police invoked provisions under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, including Sections 64(2)(f) and 65(2), which deal with rape by a relative, guardian, teacher, or a person in a position of trust or authority. Multiple sections of the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, 2012, including Sections 6, 5, 10, and 9, were also applied in the case.
Crime Branch DySP Keerthi Babu, Investigating Officer in the POCSO case, told TNM that the campaign against Athira is completely false. “The child has given a statement before the magistrate. We have also submitted the chargesheet against Unnikrishnan, two months ago. Unnikrishnan was granted bail, but barred from meeting the child,” the officer said.
The FIR, registered on April 2, records the child’s statement in detail, including when the abuse occurred. When asked about the timing, the child said it happened “on the day of the drawing exam.”
Unnikrishnan secured bail from the High Court two months ago, but the court barred him from meeting the child.
Despite this, during the online attacks and in public statements, members of Kaladharan’s family have consistently claimed that the case is false and that the child later changed her statement.
“While we were at the hospital, a woman came claiming she was a psychologist. She asked all of us to leave the room and spoke to the child alone. After that, she came out and said the child had denied everything. But we have a voice recording of the child crying after the woman left, in which Shreya says she was threatened,” Athira’s mother said.
In the audio clip, which TNM listened to, the child can be heard crying and saying, “She whispered in my ear that I will be taken to jail and Amma will also be sent to jail. I want Amma. I will not leave Amma.”
Thaniya K Leela said the family has been isolated and abandoned by relatives, many of whom believe Unnikrishnan’s version of events. “Since Athira has faced marital issues for years, a patriarchal society tends to brand her as a troublemaker and mistrust her. No one considers the domestic violence she endured or the trauma and assault the child suffered,” she said.
Athira’s lawyer, Advocate KA Lalan, said he took up the case after he was convinced of the genuineness of the complaint. “If Kaladharan truly loved the children, he would not have refused to pay maintenance initially after the separation. I had to seek an enquiry commission from the court to verify his income,” he said.
“The commission found that he had substantial income from his catering business and that Athira’s gold had been used for the construction of their house,” the lawyer added.
Several reports in the mainstream media insinuated that the POCSO case was filed against grandfather with vested interests. “All documents are available publicly, or else any of them could have contacted me or heard her side before unleashing a cyber attack,” the lawyer added.
After prolonged negotiations, Kaladharan agreed to pay Rs 12,000 per month as maintenance for the children, but he paid it only for two months, Advocate Lalan said.
He added that all legal avenues would be pursued to ensure justice for the children. “Children can be easily manipulated. They can be trained to believe false narratives. That appears to have happened here,” he said.
Sulfath M Sulu said complaints would be filed with the state police chief and the Chief Minister regarding the cyber attacks and media reports that targeted Athira without presenting her side.
The family has also alleged serious apathy on the part of the Payyannur police. “Whenever we went there with complaints, they mocked us. When we went to report the POCSO case, they insulted us and told us to get the child examined at a hospital on our own,” Athira’s mother said.
*Names of mother and her late children have been changed