Kuttimama

England is no ordinary battlefield for Test cricket. The ball swings like a pendulum, the skies shift moods without warning, and every blade of grass carries a challenge. Legends have stumbled here, giants have fallen. Yet, in the summer of this series, a young Indian side walked into this cauldron and walked out with heads held high— 2–2 in England! A scoreline that is worth far more than its numbers. This wasn’t just cricket. This was a statement. A roar. A proclamation that Indian cricket’s next generation is ready to conquer the world. The lineup wasn’t star-studded with the usual veterans. It was a brigade of fearless youngsters —untamed, unafraid, and unapologetically aggressive. And amidst them, like a calm elder brother, stood K.L. Rahul . He didn’t impose his seniority; he dissolved into the team’s rhythm. He lent quiet confidence when storms brewed and showed that leadership sometimes means blending in, not standing apart . But if Rahul was the calm, then Mohammed Siraj was ...

There was a time in Malayalam cinema when most of the female voices that ruled our hearts were not from Kerala. The golden era began with the legendary P. Leela, followed by the magical voices of P. Susheela, S. Janaki, Vani Jayaram, Madhuri and many others. Their songs carried timeless charm, etched into our memories forever. But interestingly, in those years, while the Gana Gandharvan Yesudas and the ever-melodious Jayachandran stood as strict guardians of perfect diction and pronunciation, audiences were more forgiving towards the female singers. Whether in solos or duets, we let the sweetness of their voices overshadow the slight slips in Malayalam diction. Then came a new dawn — the arrival of K.S. Chithra and Sujatha. With them, the “Malayalee touch” finally came into full bloom. Their clarity, flawless diction, and emotional depth made every song resonate with authenticity. They set new benchmarks and made us realize that perfection could also be wrapped in tenderness. And yet, ...

118 years of Alembic journey in India is not just a milestone—it’s a story of perseverance, trust, and relationships. For me, Alembic is not just another pharmaceutical company—it is an emotion, a legacy, and a family name I grew up hearing every single day. My father dedicated 42 years of his life to Alembic . Normally, employees would retire after 40 years of service, but he was given a special 2-year extension —because the company simply could not find a replacement for his experience, his deep market understanding, and above all, the trust he commanded among doctors and stockists . 35 years as a Medical Representative , where he built Alembic’s name brick by brick, prescription by prescription, handshake by handshake. 7 years as a Sales Manager in Kerala , where he didn’t just “manage a team”—he inspired them, guided them, and often carried the burden of sales targets himself. What made him different? It wasn’t just product knowledge or numbers—it was his relationships . ...

I have always admired the optimism of Indian CEOs when they talk about welcoming global companies for partnerships in Research & Development. It sounds glamorous—India as the next big hub for innovation, collaborating with giants to create life‑saving molecules. But let’s pause for a reality check. What these leaders often fail to recognize—or perhaps conveniently ignore—is how Indian laws can be misinterpreted, bent, and squeezed to accommodate such partnerships. And when it comes to bending rules, Indians are masters of jugaad . The global players know this all too well. India: A Heaven for Global Giants In developed countries, five phases of clinical trials are a regulatory mountain. Strict ethical standards, strong patient rights, and government oversight make it nearly impossible to push a drug through without immense scrutiny. India, on the other hand, has long been a paradise for them. Easy recruitment, weaker regulatory checks, and a healthcare system desperate for access ...

Generics: India’s Copycats That Saved the World There’s a wrong notion doing the rounds: “Generics are bad, substandard, third-rate pills.” Absolute rubbish. Here’s the truth bomb: Every so-called ‘branded’ Indian medicine is a branded generic. Cipla, Sun, Ranbaxy (now Sun), Torrent—none of them have their own billion-dollar “research molecule.” They are all copycats. And you know what? Thank God for these copycats—because without them, the world couldn’t afford medicines. In fact, only one original, homegrown R&D molecule exists in India: Lipaglyn (Saroglitazar) from Zydus. That’s it. One candle in a forest of generics. Now, about the quality drama. Our pharma plants are GMP- and WHO-certified, FDA-audited, and EU-approved. The same pills Indians suspect as “low-grade” are shipped by the ton to America, Europe, and Africa. If they’re good enough for the U.S. FDA, why suddenly “bad” in Bengaluru or Bhopal? The real circus isn’t quality—it’s pricing politics . Inside pharma com...

There was a time when Malayalam cinema was shot almost entirely within the confines of studios. But with the advancement of camera and lighting technology, the industry slowly stepped out into the open. Even then, filmmaking largely remained concentrated in the southern parts of Kerala—Trivandrum, Kollam, Alleppey, and later Ernakulam (now Kochi). A few films, however, broke this mould. Classics like Olavum Theeravum , Asuravithu , and later Fazil’s Ennenum Kannettande were early exceptions. Soon, filmmakers began to discover the charm of Kerala’s lush landscapes, traditional tharavads (ancestral homes), and illams (Brahmin households). This shift truly gained momentum with Kamal’s Peruvannapurathe Visheshangal . What followed was a wave of films rooted in natural settings, driven by two simple reasons—low production costs, and the remarkable efficiency of the Malayalam industry. Back then, a film could be completed, including post-production, within just 20–25 days—a feat unmatched...

When You Say Amul, You Must Say “Palu” Kurien. “Palu” in Malayalam means milk. And that’s what Mr.Verghese Kurien – lovingly called “Palu Kurien” by many – stood for. He was not just the Father of the White Revolution, but a visionary much like your own father, Dr. Prathap Reddy. Dr. Kurien believed in people. More importantly, he believed in the power of bringing people together. A cooperative movement born in a small town in Gujarat — not even his native land — driven by women. Yes, it was women who stood at the heart of the Amul story. A quiet revolution in women’s entrepreneurship and empowerment, much before it became a buzzword. Like you rightly said in a recent post, the brand-building was iconic. But it wasn’t just the product or even the vision. It was trust. The ad gurus brought the charm, but the soul was in the simplicity, the inclusiveness. Look around — certain brands became household nouns. Dalda (for vanaspati), Maggi (for noodles), Xerox (for photocopy). And Amul, for ...

India’s Silent Epidemic: The Unethical Use of Antibiotics In the race to treat infections quickly, India finds itself in the dangerous lane of antibiotic misuse—both in hospitals and in the community. While antibiotics were once hailed as miracle drugs, today their indiscriminate use has become one of the country’s gravest healthcare threats. Ethics on Ventilator Antibiotics are meant to be prescribed with caution, but in India, they are often handed out like candies. Be it a viral sore throat or a minor fever, antibiotics are given without confirming bacterial cause. Worse still, pharmacists continue to dispense them over-the-counter, bypassing the need for a prescription altogether. In hospitals, especially in ICUs, broad-spectrum antibiotics are used as a knee-jerk reaction—often before any culture is taken. This “shoot-first-ask-later” policy creates resistant superbugs and kills off beneficial bacteria, making future infections harder to treat. From Miracle to Mayhem The ethical p...

Money Is for Living, Not for Legacy In today’s fast-paced, hyper-materialistic world, we often forget a simple truth: Money is not everything. It is essential, yes — to live, to meet needs, to offer some comfort. But beyond a certain point, it’s not about survival. It becomes about status. It becomes about showcasing. But let’s pause and reflect — no matter how much you accumulate, you leave this world empty-handed. Whether you're a millionaire or a humble worker, the final destination is the same. The Rolls Royce, the designer watches, the sprawling villas — none accompany you beyond this life. There’s a dangerous trend growing, especially in India, where the younger generation seems to treat their parents not with reverence but with expectation. How much did they save? What will I inherit? They forget the lakhs (or even crores) their parents spent on raising them — with no expectation of return. The food, the education, the sacrifices — none of it was billed or recorded, but e...