The Corpse Collector by Vinu P & Niyas Kareem

A man who touches what society refuses to. This True story forces us to ask where dignity ends and who carries it when institutions fall silent.

“Someone who gathers corpses has no place here.”

“Even the relatives of those who died needed me only for collecting the corpses. I became a phariah after that. An abhorred man.”

“There goes the Shavamvari!”

Where Society Looks Away

Ostracised, humiliated Vinu P has been judged and sentenced for defying social norms. He collects what society abandons: bodies torn apart by trains; victims of suicide hanging in silence; lifeless forms pulled from rivers; road accident victims left unattended; murdered children; unclaimed dead whose names no one remembers.

Shunning the safer careers, Vinu P has chosen a profession most people refuse to acknowledge, let alone respect. Living with the label “corpse collector,” Vinu’s life, chronicled in The Corpse Collector by journalist Niyas Kareem (translated from the Malayalam by Ministhy S.), is a story of choices, isolation, and stubborn purpose because the body matters even when the breath leaves. For most, the body becomes a burden if it does not breathe—something to be avoided, something to be erased. Yet, the dead need the same compassion as the living, believes Vinu.

Born on the Margins

Born in Kerala’s Aluva district, Vinu grew up on the margins. His parents were outcasts for marrying outside their castes. His father washed and ironed clothes; his mother sold fish. They sent him to school hoping education would offer escape.

It didn’t.

Vinu didn’t pass his tenth standard, but he passed a threshold far more difficult: the decision to give dignity to the unclaimed. He believed a body remains sacred, no matter its condition. But no one agreed with him. Villages shunned him. Tea shops turned him away. His father even bought him an auto-rickshaw repeatedly, hoping he would choose a “safer” life. But Vinu’s heart lay elsewhere. His journey began in heartbreak; the first body he ever collected was that of his childhood friend, Mithun.

A Profession Without Protection

He learned from men on society’s fringes—undertakers who drank and lived in the shadows. They knew a truth few accept: life is inseparable from death.

Acceptance came not from neighbours, but from the Kerala Police. They understood his importance, often paying him from their own pockets and protecting him from goons and many more perilous situations. Yet, the work remains a gauntlet of hazards, financial, biological and mental.

A corpse collector is exposed to tuberculosis, blood-borne pathogens, infections, toxic gases methane/hydrogen sulfide) in confined spaces. There are chances of physical injuries from bone fragments or dangerous terrains like cliffs.

Vinu has undergone mental trauma from handling victims of violence and social isolation, corroding his confidence, yet not diminishing his passion to serve the dead. He buried the dreams of untainted youth all too soon and lives on the fringes of society.

Learning the Language of Death

Over time, Vinu developed an unsettling intimacy with mortality. While daylight burns his spirit, night brings him solace. He talks to the dead; the graveyard is his sanctuary.

He possesses a heightened sense of smell—he can tell how long a person has been dead, or if a body was dumped in water after death. He has crawled into gas pipelines and handled corpses riddled with maggots. For us, these are nightmares. For him, this is routine. He remains meticulous, helping with forensics and keeping records for every inquest.

This corpse collector has recovered over 3,000 bodies in his 25 years of work. He has personally buried about 2,500 people, mostly at his own expense, as relatives and known ones refused to claim the dead. He has seen their disgust, greed, ingratitude and emotional paucity.

Marriage, Loss, and Return

After the collapse of a first marriage built on lies, Vinu found Bincy, a nurse who understands the sanctity of the body. Together with their son, Varshit, and support from an elderly “Amma” in Canada, his life has softened.

His police friends continue to support him with rewards and recognition, even helping with spreading the word through media about his deathly encounters.

His dream is now simple: a graveyard of his own, where the forgotten can rest in peace.

What the Constitution Promised

Vinu P’s work lay bare many contradictions that live in the heart of our society. In India, an unnatural death turns a body into a stigma. The book forces us to ask:

If Article 21 guarantees the right to life with dignity, does that dignity not extend to death?
If equality is promised, why is this labour rendered invisible?
If untouchability is abolished, why does the corpse still carry its shadow?

Reading about Vinu’s life is like moving in a labyrinth. It raises more questions, yet leaves you in awe of the man who has chosen the forsaken path.

Book Details
Publisher: ‎Juggernaut
Hardcover: ‎ 256 pages
Price: INR 699

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