We will get this man. Don't worry.
When a man steps off a plane in Kochi and disappears into silence, the question of where he went becomes inseparable from the question of who was watching. The Kerala High Court, unwilling to let Suraj Lama's absence become a bureaucratic footnote, moved on its own authority to summon the state's anti-trafficking and social justice arms into the search. It is a moment that reveals both the fragility of a single life unaccounted for and the weight a court must carry when ordinary systems fail ordinary families.
- A man who flew into Kerala on October 5 has not been seen since, and his son's fears — trafficking, deception, displacement — are not hypothetical but the lived arithmetic of a family without answers.
- Police inaction forced the family to seek a habeas corpus petition, and the court found that even that petition had stalled somewhere in the bureaucratic machinery before anyone acted.
- The High Court bypassed procedural delays entirely, impleading the Anti-Human Trafficking Unit and Social Justice Department on its own initiative and ordering a statewide sweep of every shelter, protection home, and senior citizens' facility within one week.
- A lead suggesting Lama may have boarded a train toward his hometown means the search could soon need to cross state lines, with the court signaling it will involve any agency in India if necessary.
- The bench made clear that accountability for police delays would come — but only after the man is found, framing the human life as the first obligation and the systemic reckoning as the second.
Suraj Lama flew into Kochi on October 5 and was never seen again. His son Santon filed a habeas corpus petition in the Kerala High Court, and when a Division Bench comprising Justice Devan Ramachandran and Justice M B Snehalatha learned that an earlier impleading petition had stalled in the system, they acted without waiting — bringing the state's Anti-Human Trafficking Unit and Social Justice Department into the case on their own authority.
Santon's affidavit named the family's fears directly: his father may have been trafficked, deceived, moved to another state, or placed in a care facility with no record connecting him to anyone who knew him. These were not vague anxieties but a precise map of the ways a person can vanish in plain sight. The court responded with a one-week deadline for a comprehensive search of every destitute home, shelter, protection home, and senior citizens' facility across Kerala — and acknowledged that if Lama had been helped by a stranger onto a train toward his hometown, the search would need to extend beyond the state's borders.
Santon's counsel noted pointedly that police had only begun serious investigation after the court stepped in, calling it a disappointment for any ordinary citizen navigating a missing persons case. Justice Ramachandran did not dismiss the criticism, but he reordered the priorities: find the man first, examine the failures after. His assurance — that the court would involve any agency in India if needed — carried both genuine resolve and an implicit acknowledgment that the system had already made a family wait too long.
What the coming week's search reveals will determine the next steps. For Santon, it is a question of whether his father is still findable. For Kerala's shelter system, it means an immediate accounting of who is in their care. For the court, it is a signal that missing persons cases touching on potential trafficking will not be left to drift in police files while families exhaust themselves petitioning for basic answers.
Suraj Lama boarded a flight to Kochi on October 5 and vanished. His son, Santon Lama, filed a habeas corpus petition in the Kerala High Court, and on Tuesday, a Division Bench comprising Justice Devan Ramachandran and Justice M B Snehalatha took the case seriously enough to act on its own initiative—impleading the state's Anti-Human Trafficking Unit and Social Justice Department without waiting for formal motions to work their way through the system.
The court's intervention came after Santon's counsel informed the Bench that an earlier impleading petition had stalled somewhere in the bureaucratic machinery. The son's affidavit laid out the family's fears plainly: his father might have been trafficked, deceived by someone he trusted, transported to another state, or placed in a shelter or care home without anyone knowing. These were not abstract worries. They were the specific nightmares that surface when a person simply ceases to exist in the places where they are supposed to be.
The Bench responded with urgency. It ordered the government pleader to obtain direct instructions from both departments and directed a comprehensive search across every destitute home, shelter, protection home, and senior citizens' facility in Kerala. The deadline was one week. The court also noted something else: Lama might have been helped by a stranger—a Good Samaritan—to board a train headed toward his hometown. If that was the case, the search would soon need to cross Kerala's borders.
During the hearing, Santon's counsel made a pointed observation: the police had only begun taking serious action after the court intervened. She called this disappointing for an ordinary citizen trying to find a missing relative. The Bench acknowledged the complaint without dismissing it. Justice Ramachandran conceded that the police force operates under tremendous pressure, but he reframed the priority: finding the missing man came first. Everything else—the systemic failures, the delays, the questions about why a family had to petition a high court to get basic investigative work done—could be examined later.
The judge's words carried both reassurance and a subtle rebuke. "We will get this man," he said. "Don't worry. We'll involve any agency in India if needed. I have no doubt our police force is the finest in the country—it can easily be among the best in the world." It was a statement that praised the institution while implicitly acknowledging it had not yet performed as it should in this case.
What happens next depends on what the search teams find in the coming week. The court has set a clear expectation: a report at the next hearing. For Santon Lama, the question is whether his father is still in Kerala, still in India, or whether the trail has already gone cold. For the state's shelter system, the order means a sudden, thorough accounting of who is in their care and how they arrived there. For the court, it signals that missing persons cases—especially those involving potential trafficking—will not be allowed to languish in police files while families wait.
Citas Notables
Police began taking serious action only after the Court's intervention, which was disappointing for an ordinary citizen seeking to find a missing relative— Petitioner's counsel, as reported in court
The priority is to find the missing person before evaluating systemic lapses. We will get this man. Don't worry. We'll involve any agency in India if needed.— Justice Devan Ramachandran, Kerala High Court
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the court need to step in at all? Shouldn't the police have been investigating from the start?
They should have been. But according to the son's counsel, serious investigation only began after the court got involved. That's what prompted the judge to acknowledge the family's frustration—not dismissing it, but saying the priority now is finding the man, not litigating police failures.
The judge said he had "no doubt" the police were the finest in the country. That sounds like he was defending them.
He was, but carefully. He was also implicitly saying they hadn't performed that way in this case. It's a way of holding them accountable while keeping them as partners in the search. You can't shame a police force into cooperation.
What does it mean that the court mentioned a Good Samaritan and a train?
It suggests the family or investigators have some reason to believe Suraj Lama might have left Kochi voluntarily, or been persuaded to leave. If he boarded a train, he could be anywhere in India now. That's why the court said searches might need to extend beyond Kerala.
Is human trafficking the most likely explanation here?
The son suspects it. But the court's language—mentioning misleading, relocation, or placement in a care home—suggests they're keeping multiple possibilities open. A missing person could be vulnerable to trafficking, but they could also be confused, disoriented, or in a shelter home without anyone knowing.
What happens if they don't find him in a week?
The court will get a report, and presumably the search expands. The judge said he'd involve any agency in India if needed. The one-week deadline isn't a cutoff; it's a checkpoint. This case isn't going away.