Students had gathered in huge numbers, anxiously waiting for the anti-drugs session to begin. Talk sessions are often boring. But to their surprise, a man dressed for an ottanthullal performance stepped onto the stage. Wrong event? Not at all. This is how Jayaraj V, an assistant excise inspector from the Mattancherry excise range office, has been delivering anti-narcotics message — through this traditional art form.
Ottanthullal is an art form that once brought performance out of the elite families of Kerala to the common people. Its founder, Kunjan Nambiar, used poetic tunes in near-colloquial language to criticise various social evils. Jayaraj follows that spirit, but adds Gen-Z lingo and pop culture to highlight the dark world of drug abuse.
Since 2018, he has performed on over 600 stages while continuing to fulfil his official duties. “Our main target is students, and it’s extremely difficult to grab their attention,” Jayaraj says.
His teenage children help him stay updated with the latest slang and trends to make his message more relatable. One can only imagine the impact of seeing a reference to the viral flying kiss scene from the film Oru Adaar Love in a thullal that tackles such a serious issue.
Even Jayaraj knows that thullal alone cannot hold students’ attention for long. So, he trimmed his performance from 45 minutes to 20, followed by an interactive discussion on how alcohol and drugs often creep into young lives. He performs in schools, colleges, and residential associations and does his own makeup before stepping on stage. All his shows are coordinated through his office.
Jayaraj puts in all this effort without accepting any additional payment. “For me, this is social service, not a business. All I ask is a travel allowance,” says the officer, who now does 20 to 28 performances a month across Kerala.
It was his friend Rameshan who first suggested the idea of combining a drug awareness campaign with thullal. “I wasn’t even remotely connected to any art forms,” Jayaraj laughs, recalling how he agreed to try it in the spirit of the moment. Later, his superiors saw the potential and allowed him to make thullal part of his official duties.
“We all know what an ottanthullal track sounds like, right? So I just wrote lines for a track, keeping the rhythm in mind,” he says.
With over two decades in the department, Jayaraj has seen many painful stories — drug-addicted sons attacking parents, robberies committed to fund substance abuse. Many of these stories are referenced in his lyrics, which are later polished by experts.
Though he stumbled into thullal by chance, Jayaraj was clear from the start. He would never disrespect the art form. “The art may be funny to the audience, but the artist should never make fun of the art,” Jayaraj points out.
To do justice, he underwent an 11-day training camp with thullal expert Vayalar Santhosh. To this day, he begins every performance with the traditional Aranguvandanam and Ganapathi Sthuthi.
Jayaraj’s first anti-drug thullal was performed at Lulu Mall, Kochi, and was inaugurated by the then Excise Commissioner Rishiraj Singh. With 23 years in the department, Jayaraj says he would love to study ottanthullal further, but time is his biggest hurdle.
“My days are packed with office work and performances. I hardly get to spend time with my family,” he says.
Thankfully, his family is not just supportive, they are also involved. His parents, brother, wife, and children all contribute by giving feedback and pointing out what can be improved for future shows. “Their constant support is what keeps me going,” he adds.
Once, after performing at a de-addiction centre, a few young inmates walked up to him and broke down. “They said my performance reminded them of their past. That moment stayed with me,” Jayaraj recalls. It remains one of the most touching incidents in his career.
At a time when traditional art forms are often reduced to school competitions or sidelined altogether, it is heartening to see them finding relevance again. Jayaraj’s performances adapt to new cultural backdrops while holding on to the social conscience they were built on.
In an age where students scroll past 30-second videos, Jayaraj’s reimagined thullal stands as a powerful reminder of how, no matter how good the intention, a message must reach its audience to be effective.