Idiyappam (string hoppers)

A Breakfast of Idiyappam and a Dark Reflection

The morning air is thick with the scent of freshly made Idiyappam, delicate string hoppers arranged neatly on a plate, ready to be savored with coconut milk or a spicy curry. Alongside, a hot cup of filter kaapi waits on the counter, its rich aroma filling the kitchen with a sense of quiet comfort. But today, as I sit down to enjoy this beloved breakfast, my thoughts are tangled in something far more unsettling than the morning's simplicity.

As the Idiyappams pull apart in delicate strands, I can’t help but think about the place that often feels like home, Kerala—its lush greenery, the backwaters, and the warm hospitality. It reminds me of Koodathai, a village that, for all its tranquility and beauty, became the center of a true-crime tragedy that has haunted me ever since I learned about it.

If you haven’t heard of it yet, the story is chilling. Jolly Joseph, a mother and wife, became infamous for poisoning six members of her family, including her first husband, all for the greed of inheriting the family property. The true-crime documentary, Curry & Cyanide, explores this horrific case, and as I watch it unfold, I can't help but be struck by the stark contrast between the peaceful, idyllic setting of Koodathai and the unimaginable darkness that lurked beneath the surface.

How does one come to make such a choice? To take the lives of those closest to you, all for the sake of wealth and security? The greed for a good life—the pursuit of material comfort at any cost—drives people to make the most unimaginable decisions. Jolly Joseph’s meticulous planning, the cold-blooded research, and her ability to manipulate the people around her are beyond comprehension. What makes a person capable of such evil? What kind of hunger is it, one that cannot be satisfied by anything but control and money?

As I sit here, chewing on the soft, delicate Idiyappam, the question lingers: How far will we go in pursuit of a better life? It’s a question we rarely ask ourselves, especially in the world of instant gratification and filtered lives that social media presents. But like Jolly Joseph’s story, the darker side of human nature can sometimes emerge from unexpected places, when we are least aware.

     

It’s not just the story of greed that shocks me—it’s the betrayal of trust that has me thinking. Trust is something we spend years building. It’s fragile, it’s earned, and once broken, it’s nearly impossible to repair. In a world where we often focus on appearances and quick gains, how often do we overlook the value of honesty and integrity? How much do we ignore the importance of genuine relationships in favor of external success?

Koodathai reminds me of the fragility of human connections, of how trust, love, and security are built not through manipulation, but through patience, care, and respect. And, just as I’ve made this humble breakfast with love, the simplest of ingredients come together to create something wholesome and nourishing, it also reminds me that in the end, it is our humanity that defines us—not the riches or comforts we may pursue.

So as I finish my meal, and the thought of the documentary lingers in the back of my mind, I am reminded of how essential it is to question our desires, reflect on our actions, and perhaps, seek deeper meaning in the relationships we hold dear. Greed may drive people to do terrible things, but love, trust, and honesty will always triumph.

And that, perhaps, is the most important lesson I can take from my breakfast today.