Thiruvananthapuram, Dec 31 (IANS) What began as a routine government announcement inviting suggestions for a name and logo for a new brandy from state-run Malabar Distilleries has quietly morphed into one of Kerala’s most entertaining episodes of political satire.

Bevco’s (Kerala State Beverages Corporation) promise of a Rs 10,000 prize may have been modest, but the public imagination it unlocked has been anything but.

Social media, as expected, took the invitation seriously and delivered a master class in layered humour, political subtext and Kerala-style wit.

At first glance, the most popular suggestion, Captain, appears harmless. Scratch the surface, however, and the intent becomes unmistakable.

In Kerala’s political lexicon, “Captain” is no nautical reference—it is the widely used sobriquet of Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan.

The logic offered by commenters was delightfully straight-faced: if a government-produced liquor can be called Jawan, why not Captain?

Rank progression, after all, is only natural.

The irony lay less in the name and more in the collective nod and wink that accompanied it.

The humour did not stop there.

Variants like Kappithan and Double Chankan followed, each carrying its own cultural and political resonance.

Then came the K brigade—K Brandy, K Kick, K Rasam, Kerala Lahari.

To the uninitiated, it might appear as branding enthusiasm.

To the Kerala audience, it was a playful jab at the Chief Minister’s fondness for prefixing initiatives with a bold, unmistakable “K”—from K-Rail to K-FON—as if governance itself were a carefully curated product line.

The satire sharpened when the name Potti entered the chat.

Borrowed from popular culture and amplified through the viral hook of the song “Pottiye Kettiye”, the suggestion quickly evolved into Pottiye Ketti, Potti (S) and other creative permutations.

Here, the reference cut deeper.

For many, Potti was an unmistakable allusion to Unnikrishnan Potti, the prime accused in the Sabarimala gold theft case—a controversy that has stubbornly refused to fade from public memory.

Suggestions like Gold Theft Brandy and Sakhavu (Comrade) Brandy followed, blending scandal with sarcasm in equal measure.

As the crowd warmed up, restraint was abandoned altogether. Red Volunteers, Commi Brandy, and eventually just Sakhavu made their appearance, ensuring that ideology, symbolism and spirits were thoroughly mixed.

Some even offered marketing advice, tongue firmly in cheek, suggesting that placing the Chief Minister’s photograph on the label might improve sales—brand recall guaranteed.

The result was less a naming contest and more a spontaneous, crowd-sourced comedy column.

Bevco may have expected a handful of earnest branding ideas; what it received instead was a mirror held up to Kerala’s political culture, complete with punch lines.

In trying to name a bottle of brandy, the public ended up bottling something far stronger: a distilled spirit of Kerala’s irreverent political humour, best enjoyed neat, and preferably with a sense of irony.

–IANS

sg/dan