
K.D. Kempamma, infamously known as “Mallika,” remains one of the most chilling figures in Indian criminal history, having shattered the traditional archetype of the serial killer. Operating in and around the temples of Bengaluru between 1999 and 2007, Mallika was not a figure of shadow and brute force, but one of feigned piety and maternal comfort. Her story, recently revisited by the Times of India, delves into the psyche of a woman who turned faith into a weapon. Unlike th e impulsive violence often seen in serial crimes, Mallika’s murders were calculated, cold-blooded, and driven by a singular, ruthless motivation: greed.
Her modus operandi was as consistent as it was cruel. Mallika would frequent bustling temple complexes, scouting for women who appeared visibly distressed or burdened by family woes. Presenting herself as a knowledgeable “Godwoman” or a sympathetic devotee, she would gain their absolute trust. She would convince her victims to accompany her to secluded spots or rented rooms to perform a “Mandala Puja”: a ritual she claimed would solve all their problems. Under the guise of religious devotion, she would instruct them to close their eyes in prayer and consume “holy water” or “prasad” laced with deadly cyanide.
As her victims struggled for breath, Mallika would calmly watch them die before stripping their bodies of gold jewelry and vanishing into the night.
The reign of the “Cyanide Mallika” finally ended in 2008 when she was apprehended while attempting to sell stolen ornaments at a jewelry shop. Her arrest unraveled a trail of six murders that had left local police baffled for years. During her trial, she showed a startling lack of remorse, viewing her victims merely as means to a financial end. Today, her legacy serves as a haunting reminder of how easily the mask of religion can be used to camouflage a predator. Mallika’s case remains a cornerstone of Indian true crime, proving that the most dangerous villains are often those who blend seamlessly into the sacred spaces of daily life.