Mr Cardamom: You heard his victory speech, now stream his mix tapes
For all his policy talk, Mayor Mamdani can’t escape the fact that his most enduring legacy—at least online—is still that chaotic love letter to his nani
New York has seen many victory speeches—some solemn, some angry, some unbearably long—but none quite like the night Zohran Mamdani won the mayoral election. When he stepped onstage at his victory rally, smiling like a man who had just discovered the city's rent crisis had magically solved itself, the speakers burst into the Bollywood hit 'Dhoom Machale.'
And there he was—the newly elected Mayor of New York City—dancing without restraint to a Bollywood hit as his supporters cheered like guests at a wedding. It was a moment that felt both absurd and perfect, because in many ways it captured everything the city already knew about Mamdani: bold, exuberant, a touch theatrical, and utterly unafraid to be himself.
Everyone in New York knows Mayor Mamdani. They know the democratic-socialist organiser who talks about housing inequity as easily as other politicians talk about brunch spots. They know the son of acclaimed filmmaker Mira Nair and scholar Mahmood Mamdani. They know the state Assembly member who upended establishment politics in Queens and rewrote expectations.
What most people don't know, or only recall from fragments shared on social media, is that beneath the suit and carefully crafted policy speeches lives a man who once spent his nights making music under the name Mr Cardamom. In 2019, he released the song Nani—a playful, affectionate tribute to his grandmother featuring the legendary Madhur Jaffrey—that mixed humour, nostalgia and politics with unmistakable South Asian flair.
And before that came Young Cardamom—the artist who, during his time in Uganda, fused chapati, multilingual wordplay and post-colonial wit into a sound that was never meant to launch a career, yet somehow lingered in memory. This is the side of Mayor Mamdani that New York is only now beginning to rediscover.
If you mention Mr Cardamom today, someone will inevitably bring up 'Nani.' Originally released in 2019, the track recently exploded again thanks to Mamdani's rise. The song is a loving, chaotic ode to his grandmother Praveen Nair
The rapper hiding in plain sight
Long before his career in politics, New York State Assembly member and now Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani indeed led a second life as a rapper. This fact, which voters continue to verify by searching YouTube, is entirely real.
His musical journey began quietly, almost accidentally, during his teenage years while attending the Bronx High School of Science. He rapped publicly for the first time while running for student vice president—an event he has described as more of a playful dare than a serious artistic calling.
Mamdani formally embraced music years later, around 2015, adopting the stage name Young Cardamom (and later Mr. Cardamom). He collaborated closely with his lifelong friend, Abdul Bar Hussein, known as HAB. Their music was a distinct cultural fusion reflecting their shared upbringing in Uganda, blending East African rhythms (including the Luganda language), his Indian heritage, American hip-hop, and a humorous, often meme-worthy sensibility.
Their most notable song was 'Kanda (Chap Chap)', a track which cleverly transformed the flatbread chapati into a romantic metaphor. The lyric "I like you so much I want to buy you a cow"—a memorable and culturally specific reference to love and commitment that remains popular online—epitomised this. It was not aiming to be a chart hit, but it was something unique: music that wholly embraced its origins.
Their 2016 EP, Sidda Mukyaalo (Luganda for "No going back to the village"), delved even further into these themes. Across six tracks, which featured rapping in six languages (including English, Luganda, and Hindi), Mamdani explored complex issues of identity, belonging, and the way post-colonial societies grapple with race and power.
The song 'Askari' (Swahili for 'guard') highlighted the issue of racial bias. It narrated the experience of a security guard who would instantly open a gate for a white visitor but would delay or block a Black or brown visitor—a painful example of post-colonial deference that Mamdani had personally witnessed numerous times.
The album's title itself meant "no going back to the village" — a statement of both pride and displacement for someone who was Ugandan by birth, Indian by heritage, and a New Yorker by choice.
The music wasn't flawless, nor was it produced to perfection. But it was honest — and New Yorkers, it seems, are rediscovering that honesty with surprise and delight.
The song that went viral again
If you mention Mr Cardamom today, someone will almost certainly bring up Nani. First released in 2019, the track has found new life thanks to Mamdani's swift rise through the political ranks. The song is a lively, affectionate tribute to his grandmother, Praveen Nair — though in the video, the role of the grandmother is played by none other than Madhur Jaffrey, the legendary actress and cookbook author, rapping and swearing with gleeful mischief in a bright yellow hoodie.
The video ends at a food truck, with Mr Cardamom cheerfully chanting, "Make a wrap for your nani," as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When it was first released, the video attracted around 200,000 views — but it has since resurfaced, not as a novelty, but as an unexpected glimpse into the mayor's humour, warmth, and refusal to take himself too seriously.
Jaffrey once quipped in an interview, "I've murdered as Lady Macbeth — so what are a few rude words between us?" And perhaps that is the best way to understand the Mr Cardamom era: mischievous, fearless, and oddly wholesome.
From Mr Cardamom to Mr Mayor
Mamdani's music career didn't emerge from nowhere. His mother, Mira Nair, directed Queen of Katwe, and Mamdani served as the film's music supervisor. He also co-created the lively track '#1 Spice' with Ugandan artist HAB, released under his rap alias Young Cardamom. The song featured in Queen of Katwe's soundtrack and became a playful celebration of Kampala's youth culture.
Even then, long before entering public office, Mamdani viewed the world through the lens of community — the food, languages, humour, and shared stories of the people who shaped him. He was never chasing stardom; he understood he wouldn't be hip-hop's next sensation. Instead, he treated music much as he now treats politics — as a way of honouring his roots and giving voice to everyday experiences.
When he first ran for office, the music took a back seat as politics demanded his full attention. Yet the spirit of those songs — their wit, cultural honesty, and refusal to conform — never really left him.
And now, as New York adjusts to a mayor who can quote RZA, celebrate Bollywood, and once rapped about chapati and city life, the city seems to be realising something:
They've long known Zohran Mamdani, the politician. They're just now rediscovering Zohran Mamdani, the artist. And perhaps the real magic of his rise is that both identities were always one and the same.
