The Eternal Flame in People's Hearts: V S Returns to His Birthplace

Alappuzha: “V S lives in our hearts, there will never be another like him…” From dawn to dusk, and through a long monsoon night, these words echoed across Kerala as tens of thousands gathered along the roads, waiting to bid farewell to the state’s beloved revolutionary, V S Achuthanandan. His final journey, slow, rain-drenched, and soul-stirring, was met with an ocean of people, not just to see a leader, but to honour a legend.

The funeral procession began at 2.30 PM on Tuesday from the Durbar Hall of the Secretariat in Thiruvananthapuram. It was expected to reach his home by nightfall, but such was the outpouring of love that it took 17 hours to cross into Alappuzha, a journey that was supposed to last only seven. By 12.40 AM, it had entered Kollam, where thousands stood through the night, ignoring the hour and the rain, raising slogans with choked voices. Every junction, every bend in the road, turned into a site of remembrance and resistance.

Rain came down in sheets, but the fire V S had lit in the hearts of the people remained untouched. Crowds stood soaked, unmoving. Children on shoulders, the elderly with umbrellas, workers straight from their shifts, all waited with one thought in their hearts, “We must see V S, nothing else matters.” For many, it wasn’t just mourning, it was pilgrimage.

V S was not just a political figure, he was the conscience of Kerala. As Chief Minister, Opposition Leader, and Party Secretary, he fought for the voiceless, stood firm through storms, and never compromised on his ideals. And now, in his final journey, the people returned that commitment, lining roads, waiting hours, braving rain and exhaustion, to say thank you. It was not just a crowd. It was a river of memory, love, and revolution. Kerala was flowing, toward V S.

After six years away from the public eye, V S returned, not in words, but in presence. And the people responded with the same love and fire he had once given them. Many brought their children, not just to see a body, but to witness history, to point and say, “That is the man who never bowed.” As the bus carrying his body passed, voices cracked, “Dear comrade, our eyes, our soul, our V S… No, no, he is not dead.” Even the youngest joined in, as if to say, the revolution still lives.

And as Kerala’s warrior of resistance moved forward, one slogan echoed through the air, again and again, “Our beloved comrade does not die, he lives through us.”

Now, he returns home, to the red soil of Punnapra and Vayalar, where the blood of martyrs once soaked the earth. This is where it all began, a young man marching against British rule, against Sir C P’s tyranny, for the rights of the working class. That march never ended. It became decades of struggle, underground work, jail, leadership, and unyielding resistance.

Every kilometre of his final journey wrote new history. Every face on the roadside bore testimony to what he meant. He was expected home by 9 PM. It is now morning. But for a man who never allowed a gap between word and deed, the people were ready to wait, all night, all day, just for one last look.

Soon, V S will rest among the martyrs he walked with in spirit. But the road he walked, the fire he carried, the hope he gave, will continue. Even now, in the voices of the people, in the raised fists of the young, in the tears of the old, V S still walks, through them, through us, through Kerala.