Wit, warmth, and the Tharoor roadshow: At odds with party, MP leads Congress’s Kerala push
Though not in the fray, Tharoor has lent his weight to 59 of the party’s candidates, making an impression on both the Congress rank and file and people along the way.
Shashi Tharoor campaigns in Thiruvananthapuram on Monday. (Image Source/X) When the gaunt repurposed minivan, its roofs removed and awnings fitted, pulls up at Parassala on the southern edge of Thiruvananthapuram, it is well past 10 pm. The narrow road glows because of the car headlights and emergency lamps tied to wooden poles.
It is the seventeenth and last night of Shashi Tharoor’s Kerala odyssey and Neyyattinkara Sanal is the 59th candidate he has lent his political weight to in a road trip across vast swathes of the state. He had reached Thiruvananthapuram on Monday morning, but his eyes are unweary and his voice is unstrained, retaining its original, gravely texture.
The Thiruvananthapuram MP is not contesting the polls, but he has been the Congress’s frontman. So much so that Leader of Opposition Rahul Gandhi had requested him to stay back in Kerala and skip Parliament. He was not always loved this much by his own partymen in a state where the Congress is faction-ridden. But in the 2026 campaign, he has been one of the Congress’s lead acts.
Even wisened Congressmen agree that few party leaders command his popularity in the state, referring to him as “janakeeyan (Mr Popular)”. “There are capable leaders in the party, those that have ideas, courage and tactics, but none have a way with the common man like Tharoor. Perhaps, he is the most popular Congress figure in the state since (the late) Oommen Chandy,” says a party insider.
Shashi Tharoor campaigns in Thiruvananthapuram on Monday. (Image Source/X)
Tharoor’s persona has not gone unnoticed. He blends with the crowd. In Puthupally, where he bolstered Chandy Oommen’s bid to retain the seat, he joined the chenda (a cylindrical percussion instrument) drummers. He tapped on the chenda a few times, with a wristy flourish of an unusually thick drum-stick. He got a crash course in its nuances from the drummers, most in their early youth.
One of them, Saji T S, says: “We were nervous, but he kept us relaxed. When he accidentally hit one of them with the stick while beating the drums, he quickly apologised and asked if he was alright. In our lives, we have never been so close to a minister.”
In Malappuram district’s Wandoor constituency, Tharoor jived to a Malayalam chartbuster with the members of the Vanitha League, the women’s branch of the Indian Union Muslim League (IUML). In Kozhikode, he mingled with the vendors in the sprawling Palayam Market. His shows and speeches were not all dance and frolic, but those were the necessary theatrics in the foreground of sharper debates, chats and speeches.
Along the journey, cutting through the heart of Kerala (or Keralam as he addresses the state), Tharoor had formal interactions with voters in different constituencies. He met Kerala diaspora organisers in Kozhikode to discuss the plight of Malayalis affected in the West Asia conflict; in other towns and villages, he talked of subjects ranging from educational reforms to tourism development, making the state friendlier for the disabled.
Shashi Tharoor with a party supporter while on the campaign trail.
In Nilambur, Tharoor pondered on topics such as the Foreign Contribution (Regulation) Amendment Bill. “The Centre’s reported withdrawal of the FCRA Amendment Bill cannot be fully trusted. The urgency with which the government is attempting to introduce changes to the FCRA is difficult to understand. There is a possibility of the Bill being reintroduced when Parliament reconvenes on the 16th,” he told the crowd.
Jabs at the NDA have been frequent throughout his campaign, but more banter than snides. “The only account it (NDA) will open in the state is its own bank account,” he wisecracked. He peeled off another one: “Don’t forget that the BJP is a zero-seat party in Kerala.”
In Parliament, even adversaries such as Union Home Minister Amit Shah spare him the barbs. The Left in Kerala, too, abstains from needling him. He criticises his own party when it eschews sensitivity. Last week, he criticised Congress president Mallikarjun Kharge’s remark that people of “Gujarat are illiterate”.
Tharoor can rattle up conversations with a septuagenarian as well as a Gen Z. He can talk about the Beatles as well as Taylor Swift (he posted an Instagram reel dancing to her song “The Fate of Ophelia”). Youth engagement has been a recurring theme of his campaign across 12 districts. But an 88-year-old lady in Parassala clapped her hand to her heart and wobbled visibly with emotion when he appeared to wave in her direction.
Youth Congress member Harish George, who was part of his roadshows in Kottayam, says, “He talks about anything under the sun. You talk of the rubber industry, he will tell you something you have never heard of, despite being in the rubber capital. You talk about cricket, he will give a fascinating account of the cricketers he likes, the games he watches. He engages you, irrespective of your post in the party.”
In a sense, he has liberated the party from stiffly ironed khadi shirts and puffy dhotis to flowing kurtas and trendy shades. But the Congress insider warns: “Whether they will sideline him once they have gotten their votes has to be seen. But he is a survivor, tough and tenacious, as good politicians should be.”