The Visitors

Part 1 – Signs

Being in the IT field, working at night and living a nightlife-based routine had become a habit. It has been this way for years now. Even though it is my own company, all of us — including the staff — work from home. I usually wake up around 12 noon, and my two-year-old son, Unnikuttan, also wakes me up. In fact, his method is simple: he jumps on me until I wake up. In a way, that’s a blessing. If he didn’t wake me, I would definitely oversleep.

After getting up and having tea (which technically counts as my afternoon tea), I spend some time doing small chores at home. During that time, some news channel will always be playing on the TV.
(Fun fact: at home, the TV is switched on from 8 AM when Dad wakes up, until 2 AM when Mom goes to bed.)

I watch the news for a while and play with Unnikuttan in between. After 1 PM, our cousin’s son, Abin Shoji, comes home. He has been with us for a long time. Abin is the Vice President of Youth in the Kaduthuruthy constituency of Kerala Congress (M). He also works in IT with my brother Tony. They work together and sometimes, for fun, they bet on some app. If they win, they share the amount. Abin also handles other work — nursing admissions and real-estate transactions.

Although I occasionally join them, I mostly spend time in my room. I work for 2–3 hours after lunch. I can’t do much more because I get tired of sitting. Sometimes my eyes or back hurt, so I take small breaks. My wife Sharanya also gets tired and bored after taking care of our child since morning, along with assisting the family with household chores. So for a change of scene, all of us go out in the car sometime between 4 PM and 5 PM.

We go to nearby places — Peruva, Ilanji, Kaduthuruthy, Kuravilangad, Kuruppanthara, Manjoor, Thalayolaparamb — places that can be reached within half an hour. Everyone does whatever they like wherever we go. Some walk or run while playing with Unnikuttan; some take photos or shoot videos for YouTube. We almost always carry a laptop so that we can handle any emergency work. We spend one or two hours outside, and on the way back, we stop at a tea shop or restaurant to eat something. This is the favorite part of our trip.

After eating, we go straight to the pet shop in Njeezhoor town to buy whatever is needed, and reach home between 7 and 8 PM. In the evening, after taking a bath, we watch cricket, football, or a movie. If nothing is interesting, we do something else we enjoy. We play with Unnikuttan and, after he sleeps, we return to work around midnight.

Once I start working at night, I can sit continuously as long as I need. I work until I finish the tasks I have mentally planned — sometimes until 5 AM, 6 AM, or even later. Papa wakes up after 8 AM. Some days, Tony and I go to sleep only after Papa wakes up! We don’t work on Sundays, but if clients need something urgent, we handle it. This is our simple routine.

We’ve never had trouble adjusting our routine when needed — waking up early for long trips, going to the hospital, meeting friends, or handling household work. Life was going smoothly and without any problems.


04 April 2025 – Friday

I woke up later than usual — almost 2:30 PM. I had slept after 6 AM the previous night. As usual, Unnikuttan woke me by kicking and jumping on me. Seeing me awake, Papa immediately boiled fresh tea for me.

While I was drinking my tea, Tony showed his phone to Mummy and said something. Mummy looked frightened and kept questioning him repeatedly. I didn’t understand anything. I asked Mummy to bring me “breakfast” and she went to the kitchen. Within a moment, she brought my plate and left again, looking worried.

While I was eating, Tony came and said that some unknown creature had been spotted in Njeezhoor (Our Village), and that this news was now spreading across all WhatsApp groups — and that it was true. Hearing that, I stopped eating and looked at Tony. He was reading the news out loud, pretending to be surprised, with a mischievous smile on his lips.

Tony explained the news shared by our ward member, Sarath Sashi, in the WhatsApp group. According to the message, someone had seen a leopard-like creature near the church in Kappumthala (10th ward) in Njeezhoor at around 11 PM. The person had reportedly escaped an attack. The 10th ward member, Mr. Thomas Panakkan, informed forest officials, who inspected the site and suspected the presence of a wild animal, advising people to be vigilant.

What? An unknown creature in Njeezhoor? What a joke.

There is absolutely no way wild animals reach here. There’s no history of such incidents — at least not in the last 75 years. I even asked my 75-year-old father. This is a town area. There’s no route for wild animals to reach here. And this news was from a WhatsApp group — hardly an official source.

Suddenly I remembered something — just a few days ago, it was April Fool’s Day!
So that must be it…
Someone must have created an April Fool prank. It probably circulated around and finally reached our group. At least a few people must be scared. Tony was teasing Mummy and laughing, and I nodded knowingly. I laughed too, saying I wouldn’t fall for such an obvious trick. I went to my room and resumed work.


A Twist

Ten minutes later, I received a WhatsApp message from Abin:

“A leopard-like creature tried to attack a person named Mr Jomon near Kapumthala Church at 10.30 PM last night…”
(full forwarded message edited/omitted here for brevity)

Tony had already explained the same thing, but Abin personally forwarded it to me. I sent Abin a voice message telling him it was just an April Fool joke. But when he firmly said it was true, I felt a sudden doubt.

I immediately called our ward member, Sarath Sasi. Only then did I realize the situation was serious. On the night of the 3rd at 11 PM, a person named Jomon had indeed seen a leopard-like creature. Before that, a person named Abhilash Thottakkandam had also reported seeing a similar creature. Forest officials inspected the area. They couldn’t confirm the species from the available evidence but still asked people to remain vigilant and report missing pets.

Reading all this together, something felt wrong. Forest officials would never issue public warnings without reason. They must have found some indication—but avoided alarming the public to prevent media pressure and chaos.

A large, tiger-like creature cannot simply be a normal wildcat. The wildcats, civet cats, or wallabies in our region are well-known, and anyone who sees them can easily identify them. But here, people insisted it wasn’t one of those.

That scared me.

A glance of our Village’s Wild Side


Fear Takes Over

I was terrified. I knew very well a leopard’s strength, abilities, and hunting behavior. I had seen videos of tigers ambushing 50-kg deer, lifting them into trees with ease.

Even though not a big cat, a leopard  (if it was a leopard)  could cause serious trouble. In forests, they hunt wild boars and deer, but in rural areas, their behavior changes. They kill small animals first, then stray dogs, then domestic animals. There are videos of leopards killing goats, chickens, or even dogs.

And yes — leopards attack humans if necessary. Children, even adults. We saw such a horrific incident in Tamil Nadu just this January.

I wasn’t willing to take risks. I have a child, elderly parents, and a loyal dog. I didn’t know what creature had arrived here, but I convinced myself that it could be a leopard. The location where it was seen is just 2 km from my home — a five-minute walk for a creature like that.

And, honestly, our area is a perfect habitat — thousands of acres of overgrown plantations and abandoned lands with caves, waterholes, and plenty of prey. A place leopard would never want to leave, if arrived.

For the first time in my life, I understood the fear villagers experience when wild animals appear near their homes. This wasn’t the pity we feel when watching news stories. This was raw fear — fear that something could happen to the people we love.

I kept staring at the rubber trees at night, listening for the slightest sound — a rustle, a growl, the dog’s chain rattling. Even though I knew nothing was there, I couldn’t shake the uneasiness.


Taking Precautions

The next day, I decided that fear alone wasn’t enough — preparation was necessary.

I mentally prepared myself:
“If we are ready to face the worst, we can withstand anything.”

So I set strict rules:

  • No doors left open

  • The baby must not go outside

  • If we go out, everyone goes together

  • Carry something for safety

  • No outdoor activities after dark

  • Do not let the dog roam freely

  • Keep weapons or tools within reach

Everyone hesitated at first, but they eventually agreed. I even warned neighbors with small children.

Yes, I kept a few tools within reach — a hacksaw, long iron pipes from the roofing work, an old perfume bottle, and a lighter. Many might call me crazy, but I felt it was the right thing to do.

And so, prepared physically and mentally, I waited for more news about the unknown visitor of my village.


06 April 2025 – Sunday

Another night passed. I don’t remember when I woke up. The fear had almost faded — maybe because I had mentally prepared myself, or because there was no further news. Maybe the creature had already left.

Since I had been engrossed in this creature mystery for two days, a lot of my work was pending. So I started working soon as I woke up, even though it was Sunday.

Then Abin messaged again — a photo and a video.

A large footprint.

In the video, forest officials were marking and examining the footprint near a house close to Kappumthala church.

This was unexpected. I didn’t think twice — we had to go there.

I immediately called Abin and got the camera ready. Tony joined as well. When we stepped out, Saranya and Unnikuttan also got into the car.

And so, all of us set off toward the place where the footprint had been found.