Perhaps there is a bit of an old-world charm in opening Facebook, even though it is considerably young at 22 and has only gone grey because technology allows such short lives for its creations. For this reason alone, for its almost obsoleteness, Facebook can draw a certain crowd with a weakness to remain connected to what’s old.
For this women’s day, TNM spoke to one such crowd, members of a beautifully flourishing community of women on Facebook, called Her Trivandrum (HT for short). With over 16,000 members magically weaving a camaraderie in this virtual space, every new member looks for the one who started it all. They gasp on learning that it is run and kept together by one woman, Anjali Manoj, a Madras Malayali who moved to Thiruvananthapuram 24 years ago.
In September 2018, when Anjali began what she thought would be a small group to connect with her women friends, she was in a way paying tribute to a forgotten purpose of social media — reconnecting with old mates, including those lost along the way. But it would soon grow into something much bigger than Anjali ever foresaw, from a handful of members to a few hundreds, and then to thousands. In seven-and-a-half years, Anjali, surprising herself the most, has become the admin of the 16,000-strong community of women, shaping a few rules along the way to keep the group in harmony.
Anjali says that she began Her Trivandrum after she was disheartened by the poor response she’d received on a Facebook page for her query about theme based birthday parties for children.
“I remember getting ‘fraanship’ requests and many weird responses, everything except what I asked for,” Anjali says, laughing as she often does, warming herself up to new and old members of the group. It must come as part of managing such a huge number of people, making sure no sensitivities are hurt, and mutual respect is maintained.
“I had a few rules from the beginning. The group will be open only to women, there shall be no talk of politics or religion. As the number grew, we brought another rule — a new person can be added only by a member of the group,” Anjali says.
The biggest surge in membership happened when COVID-19 struck and many women needed a platform to talk, and be with other women. Anjali slowly opened an option for anonymous posts from members who needed to vent without revealing their identities. Domestic problems and mental health issues were poured out in confidence and an overwhelming response would greet every one of them. Community members flocked to the side of the anonymous women with words of comfort and support and counsels. Anjali’s only condition was that the woman should herself send Anjali a message to make an anonymous post. Her identity would be known only to Anjali.
Another measure she took to ensure peace and order was to approve every single post. “I have received a lot of abuse for it, from women who complain their posts were ignored or not approved. It can get really nasty,” she says.
But these are behind-the-scenes ordeals, and members only see the rosy side. Anjali takes the brunt of it and keeps herself occupied with the running of the page seven days a week. “I once suggested leaving Sundays out but then so many women came to me and asked what they would do on Sundays!” she says, laughing.
“HT is the story of one ingenious lady's efforts to have women from all walks of life come together in a safe place where they can open their hearts to any topic without judgement or prejudice,” says 74-year-old Lennie George Abraham, one of the most active members of the group. She adds, “On a personal note, this platform has enabled me to enter a world of opportunities, in the form of finding like-minded friends and getting in touch with my latent abilities to write. At a time when old age is a bane for many, I feel in a way I have stepped back in time and regained my vigor and will to enjoy life again, all thanks to Anjali Manoj and her creation, Her Trivandrum.”
Lennie, a retired dentist, was egged on to write more when her witty and beautifully worded posts began to win admirers. Anjali allotted a Monday column for her called ‘Sassypeahen’, while she gave a Tuesday column for another wordsmith and senior citizen Radha Nair.
For anyone with any misconceptions at all about old age or the sense of humour of women, HT will turn out to be the ultimate debunking proof. Women of all ages, and especially those in advanced years, are the stars of the page. Humour flows so freely, the page could easily be your most accessible stressbuster every day.
“I feel really grateful for being part of that space, which provides such a warm sense of sisterhood to all its members. Handling such a vast heterogenous group singlehandedly, with the kind of gentle firmness that is Anjali's style, is a remarkable feat in these days where cracks begin to appear at the slightest hint of not aligning with another's position. Her innate concern for humaneness prevailing over everything else is what makes it flourish,” says another HT veteran, Nadira Cotticollan, a retired Railway officer.
Dr Suma Balan, also a long-time member, says HT, a beautiful, safe, and cosy space for women, also became a forum to experiment with talents they didn’t know they had.
At least two women from HT have brought out books, solely because of the encouragement they received from fellow members. Lennie published a witty memoir called It’s Just Life: Why Get Your Knickers in a Twist in 2024, and her launch was loyally attended by friends from HT.
Manna K Abraham is another woman who realised she had a truckload of experiences worthy enough to be in a book, after the women on HT hooted and hurrahed for her posts. This is the woman who spent eight years of her life as an on-location circus teacher on a train in the USA, travelling all the time. That, and the bitter experiences in her early life that prompted her to leave Kerala, made it to her book Heart of the Circus.
“I had made many attempts to tell my circus story to family and friends. No one seemed impressed. Some even made fun of me as the circus girl. Then I got pulled into HT by an old student of mine sometime in the middle of 2020. I read the posts with interest, and took part in some prompts. It was one such prompt that got me where I am today. A prompt from Anjali asking for ‘interesting places visited’ led me to scribble some random lines about my 8-year circus journey in the US. I didn’t expect any response or reaction. But 634 people seemed impressed. That was just the tip of the iceberg. Before I knew it, major newspapers and magazines were asking for interviews. Through it all, the women power of HT kept cheering me on. And in 2022, I put my personal story into a book. In 2025, it was translated into Malayalam,” Manna says.
In her writer’s way, Manna puts together the role other women had in her life: “I’ve always wondered what if there was no active listening (reading) on HT? What if people didn’t embrace the out-of-the box story? What if women were not willing to lift other women up? HT has cried with me, laughed with me, celebrated with me, given me friends for life, friends for seasons, friends for reasons. A group that pulled me up, gave me a voice, and for the first time in decades, made me feel seen and heard. All this and more being managed and run single handedly by one woman.”
Every story goes back to Anjali, and that happens exactly because she neither dominates nor asserts ownership. If you do not go back and check the name of the admin, you wouldn't know who is in charge. She withdraws to the background, comments or cheers other women, posts when things get a little dry, and intervenes only if there is trouble. There hardly ever is.
“I too have learned a lot, gained a lot of awareness, especially about mental health issues that other women go through,” Anjali says.
A counselling psychologist called Jaseena Becker, who is also a member of the group, says that a lot of women began coming to her for counselling, seeing her posts on HT. “It’s a place of sisterhood and mutual recommendation,” she says.
For architect Miji Mathew, who moved to Thiruvananthapuram from the US in 2019, HT became a reason to resume writing, to do compering, and to sing, act, and dance. “Above all, it gave me a bevy of friends from all walks of life whom I meet up with on a regular basis all around the world. I have made friends in all age groups and from all kinds of professions too. When you are 50-plus, it’s a huge blessing to have an avenue to make so many friends. One of the most moving experiences was when I was stuck in Dubai airport and a lady introduced herself to me as from HT and offered to book me a connecting flight. I was moved beyond words,” Miji says.
Friendships, Anjali realised, could not be limited to a place or age. She opened Her Trivandrum to every woman, anywhere in the world, to be able to find a space where they could speak without fear of judgement, find at least one if not hundreds of kindred souls, or just be comfortably silent while watching the others in action. The invisible welcome carpet is for all.