When the Lights Go Out, Kerala Turns to a Mosquito‑Swatting Mobile Game

It was a typical evening in Mampuzha, Kollam – the sky dimmed, the fans fell silent, and the whole neighbourhood was left clutching candles. For Abhijith, a 19‑year‑old local, the darkness turned into an unexpected diversion. ‘I saw a short reel on Instagram, the chief minister holding a lit candle, and then a funny‑looking game. Now every time the power goes out, I pull up the app and start swatting,’ he laughs.

The app he’s talking about is Indira Cut, a tongue‑in‑cheek protest created by the Palakkad district committee of the Democratic Youth Federation of India (DYFI). Instead of chanting slogans or posting memes, players are asked to tap away at a swarm of digital mosquitoes that threaten to snuff out a candle’s flame. Each mosquito you crush earns points; the brighter the candle stays, the higher your score.

Since its launch, the game has drawn roughly 5.5 lakh (550,000) participants – a figure that the DYFI district secretary, R. Jayadevan, proudly cites as evidence that “digital tools can bypass the limits of street‑level activism”. The simple premise – keep the light alive, kill the bugs – mirrors the everyday frustration of Keralites who have grown accustomed to scheduled load‑shedding.

But “Indira Cut” is not a lone effort. A companion game, whimsically titled “Power Cut in 18 Seconds”, challenges users to locate a candle and a matchbox before the timer runs out, turning the frantic scramble for light into a quick‑fire reflex test. Both games are freely accessible through the website and can be played on any smartphone, making the protest both inclusive and instantly shareable.

Political satire in game form is not new. In 2019, during the Hong Kong protests, an indie developer released “Liberate Hong Kong”, letting players walk the streets as a protester, dodging police and chanting slogans. The concept resonated worldwide, showing how a few lines of code could echo real‑world dissent. Fast‑forward to 2026, and a US‑based developer rolled out “Operation Epic Fury, Straight to Hell”, a blunt parody of American military actions against Iran that quickly went viral.

Even the ruling BJP has dipped its toes into the digital‑protest pool, running a selfie‑campaign that encourages supporters to post pictures of themselves holding candles during outages. The contrast is striking: one side uses humor to highlight infrastructural woes; the other leans on patriotic imagery to rally morale.

For many Keralites, the appeal of “Indira Cut” lies in its immediacy. When the grid falters, there’s no need to march to a rally or draft a petition; a quick tap does the job. The game’s designers say that the act of swatting mosquitoes – an all‑too‑familiar nuisance during monsoon evenings – serves as a metaphor for battling the “bugs” in the system: bureaucratic delays, power‑supply mismanagement, and a feeling of helplessness.

Still, the developers acknowledge that a game is only a spark, not a solution. “Our aim is to keep the conversation alive, to make people think while they’re killing virtual pests,” Jayadevan remarks, chuckling at his own metaphor.

Whether the candle stays lit or the screen goes dark, one thing is clear: Kerala’s protest landscape is evolving. From street banners to viral reels, and now to mosquito‑smashing mini‑games, the fight for reliable electricity has found a new, pixelated arena.