COIMBATORE: There is a poignant cruelty in entering a crematorium with the remains of a loved one, only to leave with their absence ringing louder than ever. Yet, at the Aathupalam crematorium in Coimbatore, the ache for hope in the hearts of the family is met by a simple symbol of remembrance, peace, and life itself — a small, green sapling.
Behind that act stands 55-year-old K Rajasethumurali, a Class 9 dropout from Kuniyamuthur, whose own childhood struggles fuel his two-decade journey of service.
Rajasethumurali was born in a family where his mother was the sole breadwinner. With an irresponsible father and mounting hardships at home, education became a luxury beyond reach. Forced to discontinue his studies after Class 9, he took up any job that came his way.
“Amid those difficult years, I had made a promise to myself. If I ever get an opportunity in life, I would help those who are suffering,” he recalls. That promise became the foundation of a life dedicated to serving others.
Rajasethumurali began collecting leftover food from weddings, temple festivals, and family functions and distributing it to poor families in villages around Coimbatore. People who witnessed his sincerity began cooking extra food during occasions and handed it over to distribute to those in need. Encouraged by the support, he formally established the trust “Pasiyara Soru” in 2000, eventually touching lives in ways beyond imagination.
“During one such distribution drive, I noticed several children regularly queuing up for meals. Curious, I asked why they were not attending school. The children said their families could not afford school uniforms, notebooks and other essentials required to attend classes,” the changemaker said. “For someone whose own education had been cut short by poverty, the pain felt familiar.”
Determined to ensure that financial constraints would not rob another child of education, he mobilised support. It was often not the wealthy who gave out of their abundance, but sanitation workers, salon employees, and even daily wage labourers who were willing to share a part of what they had. Together, they purchased uniforms, books, notebooks and school supplies for children from impoverished backgrounds.
Rajasethumurali’s acts of compassion only continued to grow. He began organising baby showers for pregnant women who were abandoned by husbands or displaying little concern for their families. Over the years, he has conducted baby showers and bangle ceremonies for 167 pregnant women.
Even while serving to satisfy basic needs, Rajasethumurali believes that poverty should not deprive people of simple joys.
“Sometimes, people offer money to buy food for poor children,” he says. “I insist that they purchase it from big restaurants like Annapoorna or Anandhaas.”
Similarly, he has taken children from villages and orphanages to purchase clothes for festivals. Since 2008, these initiatives have become part of the annual 1,000 Perudan Aanantha Deepavali celebrations.
However, a midnight phone call in 2018 altered the course of the humanitarian’s service again. Residents near Kuniyamuthur informed Rajasethumurali about the body of an elderly woman lying unattended amid heaps of garbage. As the village was preparing for a temple festival the following day, they pleaded with him to intervene.
Rajasethumurali rushed to the spot. The deceased was later identified as Alamelu Ammal, a ragpicker abandoned by her children. During a search of her belongings, villagers discovered Rs 32,000 she had carefully saved over time.
After informing the police, Rajasethumurali arranged for a dignified cremation. Moved by his efforts, the police handed over the recovered money to him to be used for another worthy cause.
The incident deeply affected him. He decided that no individual should leave this world without dignity.
Six months ago, an opportunity emerged when he was asked to take charge of operating and maintaining the Aathupalam crematorium in Coimbatore. The once-neglected facility underwent a massive transformation.
When some families were unable to afford the city corporation’s cremation fee of Rs 2,000, Rajasethumurali often paid the amount out of his pocket. So far, he has supported around 15 families like this. He also began providing 23 essential funeral items, including turmeric, oil, sarees, dhotis and vettiver, among others, free of cost. He even offered them food after cremation. And every family also receives a sapling.
“Our crematorium is the only one that gives a tree sapling after cremation,” he says. “People nurture it, and it becomes a living memory of their loved ones.” Since taking charge, around 370 bodies have been cremated at the facility, with each family receiving funeral essentials and a sapling.
Today, Rajasethumurali is assisted by six others in managing the crematorium.
In a world often defined by indifference, Rajasethumurali’s life stands as a reminder that empathy does not require wealth. Sometimes, all it takes is someone who remembers what it felt like to have nothing and ensures that others don’t have to endure the same pain.
(Edited by Rohith Sony)