Thiruvananthapuram, February 17 – The death of a 10-month-old infant, Alin Sherin Abraham, in Kerala last week deeply saddened the parents, who transformed their grief into remarkable grace by giving four other children a new chance at life.
After the infant was declared brain dead at a hospital in Kochi, the parents, Arun Abraham and Sherin Ann John, decided to donate the child’s organs, giving four other children a renewed chance at life.
In a remarkable medical effort, the organs were transported from Kochi to three hospitals in Thiruvananthapuram in just three hours and 27 minutes, a logistical feat that highlighted the strength of Kerala’s transplant network.
At normal speed, without any police escort, the same distance during peak hours would take more than seven hours.
However, this has sparked a more uncomfortable conversation.
On Sunday, as the funeral was held in Pathanamthitta, the grieving home and parish church witnessed a massive turnout.
Ministers, political leaders, and public representatives rushed to offer their condolences.
By Monday, Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan arrived, announcing that a proposed state organ transplant unit would be named after the child.
This gesture was seen as a tribute.
However, with upcoming Assembly elections, questions are being raised about the optics and the timing.
In Kerala’s deeply political culture, public mourning often blends with public messaging.
Expressions of solidarity from elected representatives are not uncommon.
But when condolence visits become near ceremonial events, accompanied by media attention and official announcements, the line between empathy and political signaling can become blurred.
Television channels competed for live visuals and continuous updates on the funeral day.
The presence of leaders, the swelling crowds, many with no personal connection to the family, and the swift policy announcement transformed what should have been an intimate farewell into a state-level event.
A state funeral was also accorded, making the infant the youngest in the state to receive one. The child also became the youngest donor.
However, the contrast with other crises remains.
When Cyclone Ockhi triggered waves that battered coastal communities near the Vizhinjam port project, affecting hundreds of fishing families barely 10 kilometers from the Secretariat, the Chief Minister’s much-delayed visit drew public anger. Perhaps the optics of urgency then were starkly different.
None of this diminishes the nobility of the parents' decision or the lives saved. Organ donation deserves celebration.
But the death of a child is not a political stage. In a society that prides itself on compassion, the deeper question is whether collective solidarity must always be so public, and whether, sometimes, dignity lies in letting grief remain private.