The Cosmic Independent

He wants Rs 50 crore from his family for cutting his hair. He fights other battles too

Manju Sara Rajan | 12 Jun, 2009

KG Cleatus wants Rs 50 crore from his family for cutting his hair. He fights other battles too

Of all the diktats God has whispered in KG Cleatus’s ear over the past decade, the one that could have serious national ramifications is His decree that Cleatus fight the 2009 Lok Sabha election as an Independent. His election symbol is a pair of lit candles, “It’s Godly,” says Cleatus. If he wins, the 52-year-old first-timer will represent the 10 lakh residents of Wayanad, a new Lok Sabha constituency in Kerala. And, as most of his family will vouch, may God be with them.

Cleatus, who lives in Sultan Bathery, a large town in Wayanad, was in the news even before this—when he attempted to get Rs 50 crore from his father and brothers as compensation for forcibly cutting his hair and beard. While much in the case is disputed, the basic fact is that on 26 October 2007, Cleatus was abducted from church by 11 family members and shorn of his ‘3-ft long’ hair and ‘1-ft long beard’. “God told me to never cut my hair. Like the people of Punjab, my hair was my strength,” says Cleatus. “I wanted to get into the Guinness Book of World Records. Now, I can’t even try.”

Close to six feet tall, with loose corkscrew curls that have only reached his ears since the incident, this father of three lives in a one-storey house with a patchy kitchen garden. He says he can hear the voice of God in his ear, and since renewing his faith, goes to mass every morning, has stopped wearing shoes (“God asked me”), once walked 600 km to Thiruvananthapuram because God told him to forgo man-made vehicles, soaked in the rain because of another heavenly tenet against umbrellas, never folds his hands, and doesn’t speak on Fridays. Incidentally, 26 October 2007 was a Friday, so he was a quiet captive.

Ten years ago, before his redemption, Cleatus spent a year in jail for attempting to poison a man and fought off several cheque-bouncing cases. “He’s crazy and making things up because he wants money,” says his 81-year-old father, KC George. “We wouldn’t be able to give him Rs 50 crore if we sold everything.”

Cleatus’s lawyer, Joy Varunni, a Congress-man, doesn’t expect his client to win either the compensation or the election. “I’ve asked him to reduce the amount, and I’d be surprised if he gets his election deposit back.”

But Cleatus has a manifesto that he says is populist enough to get him through. It includes promises to give colour TVs to all families with pucca housing, outlaw alcohol, bring trains to Wayanad, allot a sewing machine to every tailoring apprentice, and provide financial help to marry off women over 25.

However, the odds are stacked against him. Cleatus is contesting against 12 others, including a Kerala Pradesh Congress Committee general secretary, a veteran trade unionist, and NCP candidate K Muraleedharan, son of the notoriously excitable, yet powerful, former chief minister K Karunakaran. But if he loses, he says, “God willing, I will try again.” Maybe the residents of Wayanad should pray harder.