The enigmatic ‘Mlathi Chettathi' and her pack of dogs from the Malayalam movie ‘Eko’ has a real-life parallel at Poonjar in Kottayam, but with an entirely different storyline. 

A 53-year-old Russian woman named Shveta lives in a large house on a sprawling property near the junction. Her companions are not dogs but nearly forty goats. To passersby, the animals appear like strays—without collars, untethered and wandering freely around the area. But they all belong to Shveta. 

For the residents, the resemblance is far from cinematic. Locals complain that the goats frequently wander into private properties, damage plants and even eat vegetables from nearby shops. The Poonjar-Thekkekkara Grama Panchayat recently intervened after repeated complaints. Officials seized five goats, kept them under care for seven days and later returned them to Shveta after she paid a fine of ₹15,000.

Authorities say notices had earlier been sent to Shveta explaining the inconvenience caused to residents. According to them, the woman—often referred to by locals as “Madamma,” a colloquial term used for foreign women—did not heed the warnings and continued to let the animals roam freely. However, Shveta rejects these allegations. She believes the issue has been exaggerated and claims that certain local politicians are behind the complaints. Like Mlathi Chettathi in the film, she argues that animals too have a right to the land and should not be confined.

Originally from Moscow, Shveta came to Kerala in 2012 after marrying Poonjar native Jose Rajan. Her life story bears another resemblance to the film. In ‘Eko’, Chettathi becomes a loner after her husband Kuriachan goes missing. Shveta, too, has been living alone since her husband disappeared four years ago after leaving for a business trip.

Shveta says she first met Jose while pursuing her postgraduate studies at the University of Delhi. “Jose had come there to attend his nephew’s wedding, and we met through common friends,” she recalls. After moving to Kerala, she began rearing goats in 2014. What started with one or two animals gradually grew as they gave birth. Shveta says she never wanted to sell them or use them for meat. “The goats are the only family I have here. I don’t even rear them for milk,” she says.

According to her, there is a shed for the animals, and she ties only the larger males if they cause trouble. But keeping all the goats confined, she argues, is not practical. “During the monsoon, I can arrange grass and leaves. But what should I do in summer? Buying animal feed regularly is expensive,” she says. Hiring a caretaker is also difficult, she adds, as workers demand around ₹1,000 a day.

Shveta earns her living as a translator for foreign visitors. When she travels for work for a few days, she hires someone to look after the goats, but doing so regularly is not financially viable. She also suspects that some of her goats have gone missing in the past due to theft, though she never filed a police complaint. “Language is another challenge. Communicating with locals is difficult,” she says.

She also questions the panchayat’s version of the recent incident. “They took five goats, including a small one that never goes outside. How did they capture it?” she asks. Shveta was in Ernakulam for work when the goats were seized. Officials informed her over the phone, and she returned a few days later to pay the fine and reclaim them.

Local authorities, however, insist they had no choice but to act. According to Panchayat president Minerva Mohan, the goats repeatedly trespassed into nearby properties, prompting a flood of complaints. “We first issued a notice asking her to tie the animals. When the problem continued, the matter was reported to the Taluk office. The Tahsildar then ordered that the goats be taken into custody and auctioned if the owner failed to pay the fine,” she says.

Erattupetta block member Roji Thomas says the panchayat had earlier asked Shveta to move the goats, after which she took them to another property she owns in the hilly area of Kaippully. “But since there was nobody to look after them there, many goats were reportedly stolen. She later brought the rest back to her house,” he says.

According to Roji, authorities might have been more accommodating if goat rearing were her livelihood. “But here it is more of a hobby. She doesn’t milk them or sell them. Yet the goats are causing problems for people living within at least a one-kilometre radius,” he adds.

Besides the goats, Shveta also cares for 11 dogs and five kittens. “Most of them were abandoned here. I simply took them in,” she says.
For her, the philosophy is simple. “I don’t want to confine any of them. This is our property. Animals should be able to graze freely and find food. In my homeland, it is common to see animals roaming freely. I follow the same idea here. Let them live freely,” she says.