On a hot afternoon in Chennai, two young auto drivers insisted I take the wheel. Rahul is 19. Sekar, 20. Both are devoted fans of Vijay. Between laughter and a quick lesson on handling the clutch, they spoke less like supporters and more like believers. "He'll enter politics like Ghilli," Rahul said, invoking one of Vijay's most celebrated on-screen roles. Sekar didn't miss a beat. "No," he said, grinning. "Like Leo."
It was said half in jest. But not entirely. Over two days reporting across the city, through auto stands, markets, juice shops and traffic snarls, that sentiment kept surfacing: a willingness to try someone new.
Tamil Nadu's politics has long been defined by the alternating dominance of two parties: the DMK and the AIADMK. For decades, power has shifted between them, anchored by towering figures and deep-rooted loyalties. But on the ground, there are signs of fatigue.
"Whoever comes, we struggle," one vendor told me, with a shrug that felt well-practised. "What is the worst that could happen?"
Another put it more simply: "Let's give the new boy a chance."
What is striking is not just who is saying it, but how widely it travels. Auto drivers. Cab drivers. Hawkers. College-age youth navigating unemployment. Middle-aged struggling with rising costs. Even families whose political preferences once seemed settled.
Many are not necessarily drawn to Vijay as much as they are drifting away from what they already know. In that space - in that gap - Vijay appears to be gaining ground.
Even cinema loyalties, once fiercely guarded, seem to blur at the edges. One young man, an ardent fan of actor Ajith, proudly showed me his phone's lock screen: a tribute to his idol. Another identified himself as a follower of actor Suriya. Both, however, said they would still prefer Vijay in power. It was less about fandom, more about possibility.
But the shift is far from universal. At a local bus stand, I met a 70-year-old man, dark glasses on, a prominent 'naamam' across his forehead. He spoke with the conviction of someone who has seen political stars rise and fall. A lifelong supporter of former cinema superstar and Tamil Nadu Chief Minister MG Ramachandran, he broke - without prompting - into a few lines of 'Naan Aanaiyittaal', a popular MGR song that reinforced his image as a protector of the poor and a leader of the masses. "MGR had goodness," he said. "He connected." Vijay, however, in his view, is not there yet. "Right now... Vijay seems superficial."
On a city bus, another voice, older and steadier, reflected a different kind of loyalty. A woman who said she had been voting since the 1970s did not hesitate. Her allegiance to the DMK remained firm. She spoke warmly of former Chief Minister M. Karunanidhi: "Kalaigner had a different persona altogether," she said, and recalled how he would hand Rs. 500 to those who greeted and saluted him on the streets. "I like Stalin," she added. "But Kalaigner, I loved." For her, the choice was not up for debate.
These voices - hopeful, sceptical, unwavering - exist side by side. Taken together, they do not point to a political wave. Not yet. But they do suggest something else: a mood, an onset of yearning for change. Right now, Vijay seems to be where that sentiment is settling.
Whether that mood holds or hardens into something more decisive is a question for another day. For now, it lingers - in casual conversations, in passing remarks, in the spaces between frustration, heat, songs and hope.
And as far as Rahul and Sekar are concerned, they already believe their 'Thalapathy' is going to turn their lives around.
(The author is an Output Editor at NDTV)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
