Kerala polls: On the campaign trail, a vintage playlist takes over

By-Prasanth Perumpillil

IDUKKI: The microphone crackled. The karaoke track died. A lesser candidate might have mumbled an apology and moved on. But Apu John Joseph simply kept singing. At a campaign venue in Thodupuzha town, the UDF candidate in Thodupuzha had launched into ‘Mere Sapnon Ki Rani Kab Aayegi Tu', the Kishore Kumar classic, when the sound system gave up on him. Apu did not.

He finished the song a cappella, his enthusiasm undiminished, the crowd visibly delighted. Even under the harsh midday sun, Apu has been turning campaign stops into something more than routine political outreach. He sings, not as performance alone, but as a way of reaching out to people.

It is a legacy he is consciously inheriting. Apu's father, veteran politician P J Joseph, over decades, cultivated an unusual bond with voters, through music. Even as a minister and sitting MLA, his singing set him apart from other politicians. Campaign events organized around his performances became a much-loved chapter in the constituency's political memory. Like him, Apu's campaign repertoire moves easily between evergreen Malayalam and Hindi melodies: ‘Thazhampoo Manamulla', ‘Alliyambal Kadavil', ‘Sundari Nin Thumbu Kettiyitta Churul Mudi' and ‘Periyare Periyare' share the setlist with Hindi classics like ‘Chalte Chalte' and ‘Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Mein'.

P J Joseph contested his first election in 1970. At 28, on the verge of leaving for the US, he was persuaded to contest from Thodupuzha as a Kerala Congress candidate. It was a tough triangular contest. One evening, campaigning late, he found himself at a CPM stronghold, the kind of booth where his party workers told him not to expect a single vote. Instead of delivering a speech to a sceptical crowd, Joseph did something no one anticipated. He sang.

When the last notes of ‘Thazhampoo Manamulla Thanupulla Raathriyil' faded, the audience sat in silence, then attentive. When the results came in, Joseph had won 85% of the votes from that very booth. He has credited that song with opening the doors of the legislative assembly to him.

Half a century later, that legacy finds a new voice in Apu. But he is careful not to overstate its purpose. "Malayalis love art," he says. "Singing is not for votes, but to ease the tension during election time. Ultimately, voters will judge based on performance."