Why regular losses fail to deter Kerala’s lottery syndicates from ‘trying their luck’

Forty-five-year-old Vijay (name changed to protect privacy) worries about being in Stockholm on business when the Kerala Government's Christmas Bumper lottery results are announced later this month. He's both worried and hopeful. Like many lottery buyers, this senior tech professional from Bengaluru believes the odds are in his favour this time—a classic gambler's fallacy. Years of occasional wins fuel the allure. The hope, the imagined spending sprees, the fleeting fame—all feel real. Vijay even secretly admits to picturing media OB vans outside his house.

This hope, though often unadmitted, is shared by others as well. With his friends, Vijay is part of a lottery syndicate, a group that pools resources to increase their odds and share the dream. Their WhatsApp group buzzes with excitement as they finalise their participation in the latest draw of the Big Ticket and their chances in the Christmas bumper. Vijay is one of six members, collectively owning half a dozen Christmas bumper tickets. The prize money, if any, will be shared equally. Vijay also buys individual tickets, a permitted practice within the group.

Lottery syndicates are common around the world, including the West. Consider the December Dubai Duty Free draw: two groups of friends each won $1 million (about Rs 6.5 crore). Or the January UAE Lottery prize of Dh1 million, also won by a group of friends. “Beyond the increased odds,” says Abhilash, a member of Vijay’s syndicate, “the camaraderie and shared anticipation are indescribable”. It’s not just the thrill of winning that bonds them; it's the mutual support during losses and the shared hope for the next draw. Sometimes, members even choose specific number patterns, giving a vain illusion of control.

Despite the increasing digitalization of many aspects of life, state lotteries in India, such as Kerala's, have largely remained offline, with exceptions like Goa, Mizoram, and Meghalaya. Some of these states even impose restrictions on the residency of lottery buyers. Of the 13 states — Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Goa, Kerala, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, Punjab, Sikkim, and Bengal — in India where lottery is permitted, almost all of the governments run lotteries, West Bengal being an exception with private lotteries. Some like Maharashtra have both government and private players.

Regular losses don’t deter groups like Vijay’s. They eagerly await the next lottery, quickly reorganising and buying new tickets. With one person typically handling the purchases, the risk of someone absconding with the winnings is ever-present. WhatsApp—voice notes, texts, and images—serves as their informal contract.

While lotteries are legal, the legality of these syndicates may not be explicitly defined. In Kerala, however, they are generally accepted. A quick call to the Kerala Lottery Directorate confirmed that while not explicitly mentioned in the rules, group wins are recognized. When a group wins, all members are listed as winners, not just the person who bought the ticket.

In Kerala, buying lottery tickets transcends economic class. Rich and poor, mostly men, share the dream of a bumper lottery win. The lottery is big business in Kerala. And it isn’t just a game, but an economic force. Of this year's 40 lakh Christmas bumper lottery tickets distributed, nearly 34 lakh had been sold by January 23rd, as Vijay's group eagerly awaited the draw for the ₹20 crore prize. In 2023-2024 alone, Kerala’s lottery sales generated about Rs 12,529 crore in revenue, with the state retaining Rs 3,500 crore after all expenses. Profits from lottery is used by the Kerala state government for its Karunya Benevolent Fund, which helps people with serious illnesses.

Retired Psychology professor Dr. VP Vanaja Kumari, suggests that the lottery’s appeal transcends wealth. Even the affluent can be psychologically 'poor' if they chase unfulfilled dreams. Syndicates offer shared hope and a sense of community, but the allure may lie more in shared 'misery' than shared rewards. This shared experience can normalize the behaviour, making it seem acceptable.

For Vijay and his friends, the lottery is more than a game; it's a shared ritual, a source of laughter, and a reminder that even against the odds, the hope of a windfall persists. When they lose, they shrug it off, saying the money goes to the government, which uses it for schemes to help the less fortunate. There's a bittersweet irony: their pursuit of fortune, however improbable, ultimately supports those less fortunate, a reality they acknowledge with a mix of humor and resignation.

It's less a solitary pursuit than a shared experience of trying, betting, hoping to win, and, rarely, even winning. Vijay's FOMO (fear of missing out) has a backstory: two years ago, he was in Gurgaon, meeting a client when someone in the group announced a small win. He continued with the meeting, struggling to maintain his composure and masking his joy. He's waiting for a repeat—but a much larger one—during his foreign trip, but does not want to hide his joy. The Christmas bumper tickets are safely kept with his mother back in Angamaly, Kerala. Vijay has prepared her on how to speak to the media, how to hand over the ticket(s) to the nearest bank, and how to contact friends and family for her safety.

As Abhilash asks Vijay about their latest Dubai-based ticket, Vijay checks and replies, 'Not this time. Maybe the next draw.' Despite this setback, Vijay departs for Stockholm with a renewed sense of anticipation. Hope lingers—undeterred, undefeated—for the next draw.

Post script: Vijay and team didn’t win the lottery draw this time as well. Despite the despondency, they are determined to try again. Their calculations suggest, the odds are in their favour next time.