The phrase is rarely uttered in the same breath. We discuss the breach of trust between spouses in hushed tones, dissect the legalities of Section 497 (now decriminalised), and analyse cinematic tropes of the 'other woman' or the 'cheating husband.' Yet, the psychological shadow cast on the children of these unions—or the children born from these relationships—remains a literary and social blind spot.
Staying together in a state of chronic betrayal teaches children the wrong lessons. It teaches them that love is endurance of pain, that respect is optional, and that silence is a virtue. Often, the children of these 'preserved' marriages grow up to either repeat the cycle of infidelity or develop a pathological fear of intimacy. We cannot discuss Jarithayum Makkalum without decriminalising the conversation. The 2018 Supreme Court verdict striking down Section 497 was not a celebration of adultery; it was a recognition that adults are autonomous beings—flawed, confused, and sometimes cruel. jarithayum makkalum
For a child, a parent’s Jaritham isn't a moral failure; it is a . The two pillars holding up their universe are suddenly corroding. The result? Anxiety, a drop in academic performance, and a deep-seated fear of abandonment. 2. The Stigma of "Jarithasanthanam" (The Adulterer’s Child) Here lies the darkest corner of this discussion. In Kerala’s matrilineal and patrilineal histories, legitimacy is everything. A child born from an adulterous relationship—even if innocent—often carries the invisible tattoo of "Avathu" (Illegitimate). The phrase is rarely uttered in the same breath