In a country where the Civil Services Examination is often equated with English and Hindi dominance, Jyothis Mohan quietly chose a different path. He wrote one of India’s toughest examinations entirely in Malayalam.
Today, the 2010-batch Indian Revenue Service officer serves as Additional Commissioner of Income Tax, Goa, but his journey from a modest village in Kerala’s hilly terrain to the corridors of India’s tax administration is layered with risk, reinvention, and reflection.
And it began with a strategy no one expected.
THE OUT-OF-THE-BOX GAMBLE
Jyothis Mohan did not come from a background steeped in civil services. He studied in English medium at Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya and had exposure to multiple states under the migration programme. Yet when it came to UPSC, he made a decision that surprised even his well-wishers.
“I took Malayalam literature as my optional. I anyway had to prepare the language deeply. So I thought, why not write the entire exam in Malayalam?” he shared in an exclusive conversation with Indian Masterminds.
It was not an emotional choice. It was tactical.
He had observed a pattern: students educated in English medium often struggled to express complex ideas clearly in either English or their mother tongue.
“The reality is, many who study in English medium end up not mastering English properly, nor their vernacular fully,” he says candidly.
While aspirants from Tamil Nadu confidently wrote in Tamil and many North Indians chose Hindi, very few Malayalis attempted Malayalam.
“So I thought, this is a competitive exam. Doing something out of the box may work in my favour.”
The gamble paid off.
WRITING THE RULEBOOK IN MALAYALAM
His experience revealed an invisible gap: a lack of guidance for Malayalam-medium aspirants. The study material was overwhelmingly English-centric. Coaching support was limited.
So he wrote a book: How to Write Civil Service in Malayalam.
The book demystifies the process. It advises aspirants to read source material in English but convert ideas into Malayalam, not through literal translation but through conceptual clarity.
“Don’t translate word by word. Conceive the idea and express it in your language,” he advises.
He also highlights a practical insight few discuss: word limits function differently across languages. “If the question says 500 words in English, in Malayalam, you calculate by page. Roughly one page equals 500 words. You need to practise that.”
The book was born out of his own trial and error.
“What I struggled through, I didn’t want others to struggle with.”
More importantly, his message is aimed at students from government and village schools who hesitate to attempt UPSC due to weak English proficiency.
“There is a compulsory vernacular paper. If you don’t clear that, your other papers won’t even be evaluated. So why fear your own language?”
For many, that reassurance has been transformative.
FROM HILLY PATHS TO NATIONAL POWERLIFTING SILVER
Long before income tax files and assessment orders, there were barbells.
Growing up in a hilly village bordering Kottayam and Idukki districts in Kerala meant daily climbs of 250–300 metres after getting down from the bus. No vehicles. No shortcuts. Just uphill walks.
“That itself was regular exercise,” he shares.
His naturally strong legs caught the attention of a gym coach during graduation. Soon he was competing: district, state, university, inter-varsity. In 2004, he won a national silver medal in powerlifting and was a state champion in weightlifting.
He trained seriously. His food was sponsored by SAI. He travelled across India — Hyderabad for inter-varsity and national competitions at the Tata Sports Complex in Jharkhand.
But then came a shoulder dislocation during competition.
Surgery followed. Competitive lifting ended.
“I thought my sports career was over. I was disappointed. But now when I look back, that accident led me to civil services. God has a plan for us. We understand the climax only later,” he told Indian Masterminds.
Had he continued in sports, he believes he might have joined the Railways as a sportsperson. Instead, the detour redirected him to UPSC.
A NINTH-GRADE RISK THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
Another turning point came earlier.
As part of Navodaya’s migration programme, he spent a year in Deoli village in Aligarh district, Uttar Pradesh, in Class 9. It meant living away from parents for an entire year.
“It was a big task at that age,” he says.
But that year strengthened his Hindi and broadened his worldview. Later, during IRS training in Nagpur and postings in Mumbai and Goa, that exposure became invaluable.
“All these experiences of sports, migration, and travelling contributed to my UPSC journey.”
WHY CIVIL SERVICES?
Unlike many aspirants, Jyothis Mohan did not grow up dreaming of becoming an officer. There was no bureaucratic legacy in his family. But there was something else.
His mother, a social worker and politician, instilled in him a larger frame of thinking.
“My parents never taught me to think only about myself. Even today, whenever I take a decision, I think, how will this benefit society?”
For him, civil service was not about status. It was about alignment with values.
A MESSAGE TO THE NEXT GENERATION
Jyothis Mohan is now contemplating his next book — on parenting and civic sense among Gen Z. He observes a widening communication gap between parents, teachers and the younger generation.
“Parents and teachers speak out of experience. But the new generation may perceive it as sarcasm. We need to bridge that gap.”
He believes shaping civic sense early is critical, from understanding consequences of substance abuse to long-term life decisions.
And he speaks candidly about the illusion of “follow your passion.”
“Up to 15 or 17 years, we are under parental control. By the time we understand our passion, we are already pushed into a track — engineering, medicine or something else. Going back is not easy.”
His advice? Choose thoughtfully. Align career with temperament. Understand the life it demands.
THE LARGER FRAME
From climbing hill roads in Kerala to navigating tax laws in Kochi, from lifting barbells to lifting linguistic barriers in UPSC, Jyothis Mohan’s story is not just about clearing an exam.
It is about thinking differently.
It is about converting setbacks into direction.
And above all, it is about choosing purpose over perception.
As he puts it simply:
“One can think of doing something. But if you want to achieve, you must love what you do.”
