It is always essential that an editor and owner of a publication should strike a healthy as well as practical understanding. But such a relation is, obviously, a rare fortune. In the case of Swadeshabhimani's editor and owner, they had a unique and firm friendship and fraternal affection for each other. Above all, Moulavi never thought of making money out of 'Swadeshabhimani'. On the other hand, he had a set of lofty ideas about it. He thought that the publication should throw light onto the public life, should lead the public along the right path, should hold truth and morals high etc. And that was exactly what Ramakrishna Pillai had been looking for. Moulavi never poked his nose into the editorial matters but did all that was needed for the smooth running of it.

The articles that appeared on the Swadeshabhimani unveiled the corruption and immoral activities of the 'divan', and the bureaucracy had to bear the brunt of public anger and hatred. The divan and his cronies were furious. They lashed out threats and warnings at Moulavi and his editor. Punishment and stringent actions were impending. At this stage, Moulavi could have advised or warned his editor to give up his lambasting. Or he could have even fired him. But Moulavi was even firm, firm as ever. Perhaps, felt proud of his editor's stinging pen. All he showed was content and support. May be this kind of unity was unique in journalism in that period. Is there any other such newspaper owner who does not go after money, status, influence, power and recognition? Or is there any other such newspaper owner who has given absolute freedom to his editor?

Those who study the history of journalism in Kerala in that period should know, in details and with due apprehension, the historical stand taken by Moulavi who gave all the vital support to his editor to fulfil his mission.

What my father would have thought in the night of his exile must be about Moulavi - the precarious state he was in and the kind of loss he had to suffer as a repercussion of supporting his editor's relentless fight against corruption. The ruler's order to wind up and seal the press would push its owner down to financial as well as emotional fathoms - sure, my father would not have thought of our family but of his benevolent friend. Moulavi was concerned about his editor's family and the editor was disturbed by the fate of the publication and the criticism Moulavi faced from his relatives. I am not sure whether they could meet before they were parted. I know, both of them met only after two years. I have tried to imagine that emotional reunion. Didn't my father's proud head bow to Moulavi with love and gratitude?

I was amazed to find three of Moulavi's letters in a box that I found after 68 years of the banishment. There were also many other illegible letters dusted and faded among them. But, surprisingly, these three letters were intact and readable. It was the first time I saw Moulavi's hand-writing.

In the letter he wrote to my father on 5-2-1915, Moulavi, after mentioning about the appeal to the ruler and its reply, had requested: "You must have heard about a European Lord Headley embracing Islam. When I read his A Western Awakening to Islam, I think it's a good idea to publish its Malayalam translation. But it'd be better if the translation is yours. But I'm not sure if your present health will be favourable to it. I shall send the book to you if the reply is positive.

Some of issues of 'Muslim' were discontinued as I was not well. The Kanni, Thulam issues are almost finished printing. Please do reply with all details."

Another letter was a short one written on 16-3-1915. "Today I've sent the book I had mentioned in the previous letter. Translate it at your convenience. Many readers await reply to Balakaleshakkaran's article." That's all. But how vivid is his confidence in his editor's aptitude and his own interest in contemporary literary discussions! The dates in all these letters prove that Moulavi might have made his requests after my father had arrived in Kannur in better health.

The next letter was to my mother. The letter which was written by A. Mohammed Kunju was evidently of Moulavi's. My mother knew only Moulavi's mother and sisters in Vakkom and the letter was representing all of them.

"We're sinking in deep grief. Our sense of sympathy is ineffable. But don't be impatient even in the most troublesome period in life. Both the ups and downs are god-given. So, be patient, the god is with ones who are patient. I think if I had not followed these sage advices of Islam, I'd have been doomed to be with those cursed ones. The disturbing feeling would be growing until I come and visit you who had been a perfect foil to a great man.

But in such circumstances, visiting you would be painful, wouldn't it be? It has been so world-over. No, never. But in this, you're in a lofty position that you can give a unique lesson or two to the world, that's what I feel.

Though I think this way, there is nothing to rescue our literature at a time when even truth and freedom are helpless. Let me wind up my sorrowful jottings here. May god bless everyone!"

sorrowfully, A. M. Kunju

The letter that Moulavi's brother-in-law A. Kunju wrote on behalf of Moulavi himself, brimmed with deep grief over the death of his editor, his heartfelt appreciation of the latter's abilities and the anxiety about a helpless family. I thank Moulavi for his exceptional humanity in comforting my mother by giving her courage to overcome the misery and for inspiring her to get with life bravely.

I have seen him only once. After Sri Moolam Thirunnal passed away - 14 years after the exile - my mother happened to come to Travancore. At that time he came to see us at A. K. Pillai's house (Gomathy Amma's husband) which was also the office of the 'Swarad' publication at Ashramam in Kollam. Then, he greeted me also for my journalistic involvement. Soft, gentle, simple and modest (who could say that behind that humility were those beliefs, lofty ideas, perseverance and courage?) The Moulavi Sahib that I saw, the extraordinary personality that I learned was that. My father was extremely lucky to have such a friend, colleague and above all, a supportive newspaper owner like him.

Half a century later, I came to know that the "released" Swadeshabhimani press ( it was said that the press was taken to the Poojappura prison and the prisoners were made to work in it) was handed back to its inheritors by E. M. S Government after replacing old types with new ones. Moulavi's son the late Vakkom Abdul Khadir and myself, the editor's daughter, both were equally happy and heavy-hearted. A kind of poetic justice!

Let me remember and let me inspire others to remember Vakkom Moulavi Sahib who had made Ramakrishna Pillai 'Swadeshabhimani' and who had equal share in that immortality - that respected personality, whom one should never put in the dark, by any means!