Malappuram: A City of Stories, A City of Lessons
- connect2783
- Sep 25
- 7 min read
Third Position- English, Writing Contest 2025
By Muhammed Anshif
City: Malappuram, Kerala
Description: In this essay, the author writes about their city- Malappuram, exploring themes on the city's landscape, cultures and its people. The author reflects on how a place can shape identity and values. Hills and rivers become metaphors for resilience and aspiration, while everyday encounters with neighbours, unfold into lessons on empathy, and strength. What emerges is a portrait of Malappuram as both a curriculum and a classroom, where the soil, sounds and people nurture not just life, but wisdom. This essay is an ode to a city that continues to educate its people long after they leave its streets.
Before I ever held a pen, my fingers traced the patterns of raindrops on the laterite stones of my courtyard. Before I could decipher the alphabet, I learned the complex language of the monsoon
winds whistling through the coconut palms. Before I understood the formal geometry of a classroom, the winding, rising and falling roads of my hometown had already taught me that the shortest distance between two points is rarely a straight line, and often, the most scenic. My first, and most profound, teacher was not a person, but a place: Malappuram! This city, nestled in the heart of Malabar, with its rolling hills and vibrant soul, has been the open-air university where I have learned my most enduring lessons about life, community, and my own identity.
A Curriculum for the Senses
Malappuram does not teach through textbooks or lectures; its pedagogy is one of immersion and sensation. It is a curriculum written in the scent of wet earth and jasmine, in the cacophony of market squares, and in the shared silence of a hillside sunset. My education began with my senses. The earliest lesson was the smell of the first rains, a fragrance so potent and evocative it has its own word in Malayalam: manninte manam. It’s a scent of renewal, of life bursting forth from dormancy, a promise that after every dry spell, there is rejuvenation. This smell, rising from the parched red soil taught me about hope and resilience long before I knew the words. It was a lesson in cycles, in the planet’s quiet, unyielding optimism.
The sounds of Malappuram are a symphony of contrasts. There is the rhythmic, hypnotic clang of the blacksmith’s hammer in Arakkinar, a sound that speaks of creation, of raw metal being beaten and shaped into purpose. It taught me about transformation, about the sweat and toil required to give form to an idea. This industrial percussion is layered with the melodic call to prayer, the Adhan, that echoes from a hundred minarets, five times a day. It is a sound that doesn't just call the faithful to worship; it punctuates the day for everyone, a constant, calming reminder of a spiritual dimension that underpins the city's material hustle. It taught me about rhythm in life, about pausing to reflect amidst the chaos. Then there is the roar of the crowd at the sevens football ground in Kottappadi. It’s a raw, visceral sound of pure passion, a collective exhalation of hope and frustration. In that roar, I learned about community, about how a shared love for a simple game could dissolve all differences and unite people in a singular, electrifying moment.
The Landscape as a Lecture Hall
The city’s visual lessons are etched into its very topography. The name ‘Malappuram’ itself means ‘on the hilltop’. From the summit of Kottakkunnu, the city’s sprawling green heart, the world unfolds as a living map. You see the patchwork of tiled roofs, the dense canopies of green, the silver thread of the Kadalundi River snaking its way to the sea.
Kottakkunnu is more than a park; it’s a public classroom. I’ve sat there for hours, watching families share meals, children chase pigeons, and friends engage in animated conversations. It was here I learned about the simple joys of public space, of shared ownership, and the quiet dignity of leisure.
Watching the sun set from this vantage point, painting the sky in hues of saffron and violet, was a lesson in impermanence and beauty. It taught me that the most spectacular things in life are often fleeting and free.
The streets of Malappuram are the arteries of its educational system. A walk through the main market, or angadi, is a masterclass in economics, sociology, and human psychology. The air is thick with the aroma of spices—cardamom, cloves, and turmeric—and the sweet scent of ripe bananas. The vendors, with their practiced, persuasive calls, are professors of negotiation. I watched them, learning the subtle dance of commerce, the art of building relationships with customers that last for generations. I saw how trust was a currency more valuable than rupees.
In the crowded lanes, I learned to navigate not just physical space but social space, to make eye contact, to offer a smile, to understand the unspoken rules of a community in motion. It was a lesson in human connection, a stark contrast to the sterile, impersonal transactions of a supermarket.
The City's Living Library: Lessons from its People
The most profound lessons have come from the people, the living repositories of the city’s wisdom. My teachers have been the elderly woman at the corner store, her face a roadmap of wrinkles, who taught me the value of a kind word; the auto-rickshaw driver who shared stories of the city’s past, teaching me history in a way no textbook could; the fisherman casting his net in the Chaliyar River, his patient, focused movements a lesson in perseverance.
One of my most memorable classrooms was a local chaaya-kkada, a small, unassuming tea shop. Here, for the price of a glass of strong, sweet tea, one could get a crash course in world affairs, local politics, and philosophy.
It is a democratic space where a government employee, a daily wage laborer, and a student could all sit on the same wooden bench and argue passionately about everything from the price of onions to the nuances of international diplomacy. It was in the steam of those tea glasses and the heat of those debates that I learned the importance of civil discourse. I learned to listen to opposing viewpoints, to articulate my own thoughts, and to appreciate that wisdom wasn't confined to the educated elite. It was a lesson in grassroots democracy, a vibrant, living example of the public sphere.
The city also taught me about a unique form of coexistence. Malappuram is a Muslim-majority district, and its cultural fabric is deeply interwoven with the tenets of Islam. Yet, it is a place of profound communal harmony. The rhythms of Eid are celebrated by all, just as the festivities of Onam and Christmas are shared across communities. I learned that faith was not a wall that divides, but a thread that adds richness to the local tapestry. My Hindu friends would bring me biryani during Eid, and my family would share payasam with them during Onam. This simple act of sharing food was a powerful lesson in mutual respect and love. It taught me that identity could be both specific and inclusive, that one could be devout in one’s own faith while celebrating the humanity in others. The city itself, with its ancient temples standing peacefully near centuries-old mosques, is a physical testament to this lesson in pluralism.
Harsh Realities, Profound Lessons
The landscape itself has been a stern, yet benevolent, instructor. The annual monsoons, which can be both life-giving and destructive, have taught me about the power of nature and the importance of preparedness.
The floods of recent years were a harsh lesson in our vulnerability, but they were also an inspiring tutorial in collective action. I saw the city come together, with fishermen becoming rescue operators and ordinary citizens opening their homes to strangers.
It was a real-time, high-stakes examination of our community’s spirit, and Malappuram passed with flying colors. I learned that our true strength lies not in our individual resilience, but in our ability to act as one.
Even the city’s challenges have been educational. The rapid, often chaotic, urbanization has taught me about the complexities of development. The traffic congestion in the town center is a daily lesson in the need for sustainable planning. The struggles of migrant laborers I’ve encountered have been a poignant education in socio-economic disparity. These are not comfortable lessons, but they are essential. My city has taught me to see the world not as a perfect, polished product, but as a work in progress, full of flaws and contradictions, a place that needs not just my appreciation, but my active participation to improve.
Conclusion: A Lifelong Scholar of the City
As I prepare to step into a world of formal careers and structured institutions, I carry the lessons of Malappuram within me. It has taught me that learning is not a finite process confined to the four walls of a school, but a continuous, lifelong engagement with the world around us. It has taught me to find knowledge in the mundane, wisdom in the ordinary, and beauty in the overlooked. The ability to listen to the stories of a stranger, the confidence to navigate a crowded street, the humility to respect different faiths, the resilience to face a storm—these are the skills I have acquired from my urban guru.
Malappuram is more than just my home. It is the soil in which my roots are anchored, the wind that has shaped my branches, and the sun that has nurtured my growth. Its hills have taught me to aim high, its rivers have taught me to be persistent, and its people have taught me the boundless capacity of the human heart.
It is a living, breathing, ever-evolving teacher, and I am, and will always be, its humble and grateful student. The city is my textbook, its streets are my classroom, and its people are my guides. This has been my education.
About the Author:
Muhammed Anshif
Muhammed Anshif P is a 22-year-old aspiring professional hailing from Malappuram, Kerala. He holds a Bachelor's degree in Business Administration (BBA) with a specialization in Retailing from Indira Gandhi National Open University (IGNOU). Alongside his entrepreneurial pursuits, Anshif has a strong inclination toward writing and research. His academic background, along with his curiosity positions him well for roles that value creativity and initiative.
A beautifully written piece — the way Malappuram is portrayed as a living classroom is both poetic and insightful. Loved the rich sensory details and the reflections on community and resilience!