Reny And His Children

This year we decided to move away from the usual year end Christmas celebrations and do something more meaningful. We decided to revisit Precious Children’s Home like we did about two years ago. This is a charitable project under the aegis of Prison Fellowship. Prison Fellowship focuses on the rehabilitation of released prisoners besides helping victims of crime. Precious Children’s Home is targetted at children of prisoners, victims of crime and abandoned children and is run by Reny George.

Reny’s past is a story that most malayalis especially those from Central Travancore are well aware of. There was even a movie made that was loosely based on this terrible tale starring Mohan Lal. I remember passing by Karikeneth Villa near Tiruvalla and peering into the house and recalling the story. The house is some distance away from the road and is surrounded by big dark trees, it had that eerie aura around it.  Most often someone in the vehicle would say, “That is Karikeneth Villa, you remember Madrasille Mon?”

The story goes that Reny was studying in Chennai (Madras then) and got into bad company, drugs and alcohol.  His friends and he came to visit his uncle and aunt, the owners of Karikeneth Villa. Reny demanded money to buy drugs and there was an argument which turned fatal for the issueless couple. Reny murdered his uncle and aunt and fled the scene. The police were at a loss in identifying the killers as the couple kept to themselves and did not have ties with neighbours. The case dragged on and it was a chance remark by one of the maids that got the police in the hunt. The maid said that the aunt had mentioned that Madrasille Mon (literally tanslated – son from Madras) would be visiting the next day.  Reny was arrested alongwith his friends and was sentenced to prison. (This was one of the versions I had heard as a child). While in prison Reny turned to Christianity and started working for the welfare of prisoners. Post his release Reny set up the Precious Children’s Home.

I remember meeting Reny two years ago during our first visit. I had mixed emotions when I saw him, I did not know what to expect. The stories were larger than life, in my mind I had this image of a scary man with scars and frightening looks. I was nervous and a little apprehensive as he walked towards me and introduced himself. A very pleasant man with an infectious smile his demeanour put me at ease. We talked about his work with children, the challenges he faced and his plans for the Home. After a while he asked, “Aren’t you from Kerala?” I replied that my parents are from Kerala and that I spent most of my life outside Kerala. He then said, “Haven’t you heard my story?”  I nodded nervously and murmered, “Yes”. He then said that there was a lot of half truths floating around and that he was writing his autobiography for the world to read.

Meeting him this time around was like meeting an old friend. He remembered our last visit, we talked a lot. I asked him about his book, he said that he was sewing up the last chapter. I queried him about how his plans for the Home had progressed. He pointed to a young lad and said proudly, “That boy passed out of this Home and now has a steady job.” He looked at his wards as they sang a song for us and told me, “I am sure there is a future Abdul Kalam or a Mother Theresa in that lot of children. My job is to set them in the right path.”

As we drove away that evening, I kept thinking about the Reny’s incredible story and his selfless work. But does that balance out his transgression? Well, who am I to judge him?

The last time I passed Karikeneth Villa almost a year ago, the house had been repainted and the board had been changed. It looked bright and welcoming.