Big Beats, Death-Defying Stunts: How Indian Rapper Hanumankind Stunned Audiences With His Viral Hit ‘Big Dawgs’

Sooraj Cherukat didn’t see a career in music as part of his five-year plan — or any plan. Though born in Kerala, India, Cherukat’s family moved constantly, country to country, until settling in Houston, where Cherukat spent his most formative years. Raised by devoted parents who were accustomed to a certain blueprint for success — the one where you study hard, go to college, land a well-paying job, get married, buy a house, have kids, and live happily ever after — he moved back to the motherland in 2012 to finish his degree and take a job at Goldman Sachs, working a traditional nine-to-five while moonlighting as rapper Hanumankind, or HMK. Fast forward to present day: Bangalore-based Cherukat is signed to Def Jam India and what started as a fun party trick has since mushroomed into intercontinental hysteria around the release of his latest single, “Big Dawgs,” produced alongside musician-composer Kalmi .

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“Big Dawgs” has now earned more than 11.5 million streams on Spotify — holding the Number One spot on the Viral Songs Global chart since July 26 — and is being ecstatically shared all across TikTok , X , and Instagram . Even beyond the South Asian diaspora, there’s a mutual admiration among fans for the breakthrough artist. Creators are posting videos where, within the span of seconds, you can witness their features shift dramatically from doubt to confusion and finally appreciation . (One called it “The HARDEST Music Video I Have EVER SEEN!”)

The music video, directed by Bijoy Shetty , contains three minutes and 54 seconds of dizzying, high-octane visuals that, paired with the hypnotizing audio, will have you at the edge of your seat, holding a stank face, and nodding to the beat. Having now amassed about 8 million views while trending on YouTube, it’s set in the coastal district of Ponnani — also known as the “Mecca of Kerala” — inside of a well of death, a dome-like spectacle where brave performers ride parallel to the ground, blitzing past with motorcycles or small vehicles on walls constructed of wooden planks.

Perhaps the most underrated aspect of the entire production is Hanumankind’s performance, ever-present in the thick of the electrifying chaos — his goofy, grill-filled grin captivates as the camera swerves around him while he stomps and swaggers in the gritty arena. “Look, we knew the song was going to do well, but we did not know it was going to be like this. That has been surprising for sure,” shares the analyst turned artist of the overwhelming response over the past few weeks. “I knew the video would have an impact though because we literally put our lives on the line.”

Because of his recent virality, Hanumankind — whose musical taste, rhythm, and flow are informed by his southern Indian and American upbringings — has now come by a new tranche of fans. “If you look at the YouTube comments, they’re one of the most wholesome things I’ve ever seen,” he proudly notes. “Everyone from everywhere came together, and it’s an outpouring of love, man. I am in awe of that, and I’m glad that is the kind of impact we are able to have here.”

We caught up with Hanumankind about his creative odyssey, hip-hop influences, personal style, and dream collaborations.

“Big Dawgs” has gone viral, and at this moment, people are listening to an Indian rapper all over the world. That must feel surreal.
It’s been crazy. But I’m just a rapper from India. I get it — I am from here. But I’m just someone that’s making art from a different side of the world. I have my own personal journey.

Globally, what’s the response been like?
It’s been interesting for sure. It’s good. The love has been beautiful, and I’m very grateful. I have spent time over here building a fan base, and I think everyone that’s supported me until now are complete badasses. Then there’s the other side of things, but I didn’t come into this expecting to be loved by everybody. That’s OK. It’s a part of the world that we live in. I accept whatever it is. I’m filling that need to create in my soul and everything else is a byproduct of it. I’m trying to be honest with myself.

It’s almost as if we were waiting for something fresh like this to come through. How did this song happen?
Sometimes I go in with an idea and I have a concept I’m going to build around. There are also times where me and Kalmi — or whoever I’m working with in terms of producers — we’ll just sit there and try to make something from scratch. No intention, no idea. We just like making music.

This was the second of the two. We were sitting down on a Zoom call — Kalmi actually lives in Hyderabad, and I live in Bangalore — and we were just trying to build a habit of making music without any intention, without any weight behind it, and see what happens. It took some 30 minutes for us to put together the beat, I wrote, and it rolled out. Now, of course, there were changes that we made as the song came to completion. That is on us as artists to take pride in. It did have its own transformative process, but you can’t lose that initial feeling, that initial spark that we had and the way that it came to be.

I love the art of putting together a visual and audio experience. My boy Bijoy is an absolute champ. He is someone that forces me to get out of my comfort zone. With any work we’ve done, it’s always been that we’re not going to do the whole “I’m a rapper and I rap in front of a camera” thing. Though I love it and the people I grew up around, my idols, my heroes, all did that. Still, if we’re making something it has to be something we’re pushing ourselves to make.

So when I have a song where I’m skrrting the whip, obviously we’re thinking about getting all of the flashy cars and bikes and bad bitches twerking. But in the end, that’s an easy reach. We see this, we do this, we know we have access. Randomly, we were running through ideas. Bijoy came up with the well of death and instantly I was like, “Wait, hold up, let me see if we can do this.” We stuck to the concept, and that’s how the music video came to be.

I love the switch up with the chop-and-screw at the end of the track — and your homage to Project Pat. I saw that he gave you a shoutout on Instagram, too. When did you become a fan of his?
I grew up listening to Three 6 Mafia. Project Pat — his flow is iconic. The way I rapped was like “Poppin’ My Collar,” which was one of the biggest songs when I was a kid: “I know you sicker than sick-ahh/When you see the rims flick-ahh/The paint drip off, ice in my Range glitt-ahh.” That’s the one. So Project Pat has been doing this shit for years. Three 6 Mafia was everywhere in the 2000s, and that’s when I was in the U.S.

For Project Pat to give the nod was huge because his flow has been used by a bunch of artists, especially in America. But for me, I had to be like, “Hey Project Pat, it’s because of you that people are using this flow.” It is that prominent. His flow has withstood the trial of time and it is still as fucking good now as it was then.

Critics are comparing your flow to the greats like Lil Wayne and Eminem . Who are some of your biggest lyrical influences?
I grew up in Houston, so the bar “Top notch hoes get the most, not the lesser” was an ode to Pimp C, rest in peace. That’s a UGK reference. Bun B also checked this out and gave us the nod, which is amazing because Bun B was one of my heroes growing up. It was huge because of what Pimp C and Bun B did for Houston and music and the world was just phenomenal, man. It was everything to be able to hear from these guys.

Like I said, there might have been people that were out here trying to find flaws and hating on the side but for my heroes to approve … my inner child is at peace.

I wouldn’t even know what to do if that happened to me … if one of my idols gave me a shout-out.
Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. It’s not like you suddenly know what to do. It’s wild. I’m taking it in stride, and it was a beautiful moment. Again, even the ode at the end where we screw and chop the music was a Houston reference because DJ Screw — rest in peace, DJ Screw — shaped the sound of an entire generation of folks that make music right now.

There are a lot of artists that have inspired me in a way that I think you can hear in my sound. At the same time, this is an endeavor to find the best version of myself. I think HMK is his own thing.

Why did you decide to shoot the music video in a well of death? What did it represent to you and the rest of the creative team?
Because it’s the idea of taking risks, right? The well of death is called the well of death for a reason. There have been deaths, injuries, and accidents that have been a product of this carnival or circus attraction. These people put their lives on the line every day for small amounts of change that they grab from the sides from the hands of the people as they go around. They do this numerous times throughout the day. It’s the risk factor, and it’s about what that implies.

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Artists are out here contemplating or overthinking. “I could do this, I could do that. Maybe this won’t look good on me, maybe this won’t sound good.” But if you don’t take the risk, who’s going to know? Who’s ever going to find out? That’s what the video kind of implies as well. It’d be more comfortable for me to shoot a regular video on a flat surface or in a room that is stable with my feet firmly on the ground instead of being locked in this tiny little car where I literally had to tuck my toes underneath the chair and pray to God that I didn’t fly out. It was only because of the performers that I believed I could do it. But what is belief without actual execution?

A lot of things are happening in this video. But mainly, if you want something, take that risk, man, or else it won’t happen. Even if you fail, it’s still the act of doing. For me, even if this video didn’t work out, I get to tell my grandchildren that I actually sat inside the well of death and did this. At the very least, if nothing worked out, I’m happy about that.

The visuals go absolutely crazy. The drone shot is nuts. How long did it take you to film the video, and what preparation went into it?
We shot it all in a day. That’s all we could afford. It’s such a physically demanding shoot, I couldn’t do it two days in a row. These guys that do it every day — they were making it look easy. By the ninth or tenth time that I was in that car, I was projectile vomiting.

Everything I learned — everything you saw on camera — was me learning on the day of. You can’t practice stuff like this; I just had to go do it. At the very end, in the credits, you see the first time I got into the car. That’s why I’m like “I got it! I got it!” But, it’s like, I didn’t get it. I didn’t really have it, to be honest.

What was the most difficult part of filming?
There were a lot of complications for sure. When I’m standing in the center, I can’t hear anything because of the noise of the bike and the cars and engines. These are things that we didn’t know until we got to the shoot. We thought we had a large enough speaker on the side, but you can’t hear anything when there’s wood rattling and there are two stroke engine bikes. I don’t know if you know about two stroke engine bikes, but they’re very loud and very audible when you’re in this kind of dome. We had to figure out how to communicate and how to talk because once you’re in you close the doors. The director is not inside with you — he can’t be, it’s very dangerous. Only the people that are filming are in there with you. But I think all of us were built for this. We’re built different.

There’s a point in the video where it looks like everyone else is in slow motion and you’re rapping at normal speed. Did you rap in double time to achieve that?
Yeah, thank God I wasn’t rapping too fast for that section. You’ve seen it in other videos, it’s not something that’s a brand-new technique. I practiced a couple of times, and then we captured that kind of effect. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if it wasn’t for the grit and tenacity of Bijoy and the entire production team. I know it wasn’t easy, we know how difficult it was to film. Major shout-out to my boys, major shout-out to the fam. I think my mama’s prayers also came into play.

Switching gears, let’s debunk the myth of an overnight success. How did music become something that you are passionate about?
I’ve always loved music. It was a source of inspiration throughout my childhood and specifically came from freestyling in high school. It was something I did with my friends for fun and did not really take seriously. It was a creative outlet and a way for me to express myself. Without putting anything on paper, though, it was very for-the-moment.

Eventually it stuck with me, so I decided to put something out before my soul disappeared from my body, do you get what I mean? On your day-to-day, if you don’t feel like you’re doing something rewarding and don’t feel happy with your life, I think it will catch up to you. I had the wherewithal to make a decision about music that not everyone gets the privilege or headspace to do. I made that decision a little bit late in my life.

You don’t suddenly reach that point where all things fall into place. We had a bunch of obstacles along the way, but perseverance and love of the craft helped. Now here I am continuing the same thing just trying to be a better version of myself every day.

Where does your rap name, Hanumankind, come from?
I’m not a very religious person at all. I would say I’m spiritual. I do like what the name Hanuman implies when it comes to the [Hindu] deity because he personifies honor, courage, and loyalty. He puts it all on his chest. From this side of the world, Hanuman is a name that so many people know. Even if you don’t hold the same path, everyone has seen it or heard it or is aware of it. It’s something that everyone can associate with being Indian. And mankind is the rest of the world. It was a combination of both things. To bring two things together in a way that ties into my purpose.

I know it can be tough to find your identity when you grow up wedged between two cultures. Why did you decide to move back to India?
I’m still considered an NRI [Non-Resident Indian]. That doesn’t really leave you because of the accent. I tried, but I still sound very American. The thing is, I speak Malayalam like a champ. I am very fluent in my mother tongue. That’s something that’s helped me because I came here and built myself into the community. These are my people. I lived in Bangalore; I went to university here also for a bit. I did my fair share of traveling and immersing myself at home in India. At the end of 2012, I had the option of moving back to the United States. I made the choice. I wanted to spend time at home. It’s now been 12 years since, and it’s been beautiful.

What would you say India’s hip-hop scene is like compared to the United States’?
India has an absolutely thriving hip-hop scene. There are a bunch of artists that have been killing it and have established their sounds. Obviously when it comes to hip-hop, it’s about telling a story — it’s rhythm in poetry. Here, everyone has something to say in a country where there are so many different languages and different dialects in 28 states. As you know, it’s not just Hindi. Though we are all from the same country there are different perspectives that each language brings. It’s made it a very interesting mix of sounds and feelings because each language conveys certain things in a certain way. Like certain lines that you say in Spanish, though you can get it translated directly to English, it just doesn’t hit the same. If you ask me something in Malayalam and you break it down to the English equivalent, you can get it but the impact is different. That’s on a much larger scale over here.

There’s something very Freddie Mercury about your look. Where do you get your personal style or fashion sense?
I had no intention. We were like, what would be comfortable. What would be easy to move around in when you’re inside a car going around the well. We didn’t have a fashion statement. I love Queen and Freddie Mercury, don’t get me wrong, it’s incredible music. I also love that his roots are Indian and Parsi, but we had no idea.

Even the mustache — the funny thing is that I was actually shooting for a movie before and had a completely different reason to grow it out. I’ve never grown facial hair for the life of me and was very uncomfortable with the fact that we were going to be shooting “Big Dawgs.” A lot of things just fell in place. None of this shit was planned. Everything just came to be.

What does your family think about your career? Are they supportive?
I know in the beginning they were very confused and concerned. I don’t think my past warranted the trust that they have in me now. But over time they’ve been very supportive, which I’m blessed to be able to say. They’re rooting for me, and that goes a long way in a journey where there aren’t too many people that you can really say are truly doing that for you. I want to be able to make them proud and give them a life that they deserve. That’s a huge part of why I do what I do.

Everyone’s itching to know what’s next. Was it your goal to break into mainstream American hip-hop or do you have other things planned?
I don’t have anything planned like that. I just want to make music. I want to push myself creatively, spiritually, mentally, everything. I want to develop my art and do it the way I want to. I know I can do better. There’s so much more I can do. This is not the peak of it all. I’m blessed to say that this happened, but these things come and go. I have goals and dreams and aspirations of being a version of myself. Remember, I started this by being like “If I don’t try this, it will affect me.” The next attempt is the same. Everything that is a byproduct is just part of that journey. There’s no intention to turn mainstream or not — there’s none of that. It’s just music. If you like it, you like it. If you don’t, you don’t. Music is subjective. I don’t have any right to claim that it is this or that. I’m just someone who enjoys the art of creating, so we’ll see how that goes.

OK, last question: Who would your dream collaboration be?
Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole are definitely up there. I would love to be able to work with those legends, but I think they’re on everybody’s list. J.I.D for sure — I met him when he visited over here a while back. I think he’s phenomenal. Denzel Curry and, also, Three 6 Mafia. I know it’s difficult to get everyone to come back together, but just being able to tap into that side would be fire. I love System of a Down. I love metal. There’s no definition of who or what. Whatever I think is cool, I’m gonna try. Let’s see, fingers crossed.

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