Every morning, 58-year-old Shivarajan O T steps out of his home in Kalikavu, Nilambur, carrying a small white plastic tin filled with a carefully prepared powder — a special mix of grains and nuts. With the tail end of a steel teaspoon, he gently scatters the powder in over 100 spots around his house. He is almost done with his morning routine before breakfast; feeding ants. He chooses areas where people don’t walk, so the ants can eat in peace. “They should eat at their home, not where we decide,” says Shivarajan. Only after completing this quiet ritual does he sit down to have his own breakfast. This has been his daily routine for at least the past 30 years.

He picked up this habit in 1994 in Indore, Madhya Pradesh, where Shivarajan ran an automobile workshop by the highway. His neighbours there had a curious habit — they would feed ants every day. Intrigued, he decided to join in. Before long, he was not just feeding ants but also around 150 squirrels that lived in the trees lining the road. “They used to wait for me every day. Groundnuts were their favourite. I also gave them water, rice, and wheat,” he recalls. The philosophy behind this act stayed with him: “Khane se nahi matlab, khilana zaroori hota hai” — It's not about eating, it's about feeding. “Humans have the responsibility to take care of all living beings,” he says.

In 2012, he returned to Kerala to look after his ailing mother. The practice paused briefly — but not for long. After her passing, he restarted feeding ants, this time in Kalikavu. And back in Indore, his friend and neighbour, Ram Pal Tiwari, now 70, continues the legacy — still feeding ants, squirrels, and pigeons in Shivarajan’s name.

Shivarajan doesn’t just throw crumbs. The food he offers is a precisely curated blend of nine ingredients — wheat, paddy, Bengal gram, mung bean, finger millet, cashew, almond, and sugar. All powdered together, the mix is stored in a container kept above the inverter at home — “It stays warm there and doesn’t spoil. Whoever we feed, they deserve the best,” he explains.

He prepares about 4–5 kilograms of this mix every six months, spending around ₹1,000. Since his marriage in 2003, his wife Priya has been helping him with the preparation — though he insists on doing the feeding himself. “I feed around two to three lakh ants every day,” he estimates. He even carries a smaller container to his automobile workshop in Kalikavu town, where he repeats the ritual in the corners and edges where ants make their nests. He refills the container every five days. “Ants often move their homes,” he says with a smile. “So I search for their new spots. Even if I get it wrong, they usually find the food within five minutes.”

Shivarajan also leaves water for birds, and food placed in corners often attracts lizards, snails, and grasshoppers. “If I had squirrels here, I would feed them too. But this place doesn’t have many," he says wistfully. Even on holidays or when he has to skip work, he makes sure to feed the ants — either early in the morning or the evening before. While it is raining, he places the food and covers it safely using coconut shells.

At his workshop, which he runs with partner Surendra Mohanan, everyone knows about his practice. “At first, they were curious,” he says. “But now they understand.” His family — wife and children Keerthana, Nayana, and Arun — are fully supportive. “They’re interested in helping, too. But I tell them, no — this is something I want to do myself. I need to.”

What started as a borrowed habit in a faraway city has become a profound part of Shivarajan’s identity now. “I never imagined I’d continue it this long. But it just became part of me — like breathing.”