U and I

As the December Season unfolds, U. Rajesh talks to Chitra Swaminathan about performing without his celebrated brother, mandolin U. Shrinivas

December 03, 2014 08:46 pm | Updated April 07, 2016 02:40 am IST

Mandolin U. Rajesh. Photo: R. Ravindran

Mandolin U. Rajesh. Photo: R. Ravindran

A melancholic stillness surrounds the large independent house. It is a little over two months since Mandolin U. Shrinivas, who resided here, passed away. The four walls of his first floor room, teeming with awards and photographs, stand as a mute witness to a momentous career. In the adjoining room, his practice space, a huge framed photograph taken by friend and film music composer Devi Sri Prasad, perfectly captures his famous child-like smile. You then hear the familiar strains of mandolin strings. Shrinivas’ younger brother U. Rajesh is conducting a class in the floor above.

Standing in the terrace, with a faraway look, a frail and weary Rajesh talks of how difficult it is to face the audience without his guiding light, a brother who, at all times, had an amazingly dedicated and passionate air about him. “I have just resumed performing,” he says, running his fingers caressingly over the strings of Shrinivas’ gleaming mandolin. “I have to keep it going for its sake. It cannot be silent,” he adds, pointing to the instrument.

Rajesh will fill in his brother’s slot at various sabhas this Margazhi. “During cutcheris, I have the habit of constantly looking to my right to get a nod of approval from my brother. It’s not going to be easy with that empty space on stage next to me. I cannot imagine stepping into his shoes; they are too big for me. I am going to request rasikas to help me in attempting this feat. And I hope my brother gives me the strength.”

With dreams of becoming a pilot, Rajesh forayed into music when the Paramacharya of Kanchipuram advised him to learn to play the mandolin. “It has all been quite accidental — firstly, my musical journey and now, the responsibility of carrying on a legacy. The pressure has always been there — of comparisons with a genius and living up today to people’s high expectations. When my brother-cum-mentor was around I thoroughly enjoyed straying into unknown musical territory. His go ahead was enough to take on challenges,” says Rajesh, remembering his comforting words in times of crisis.

“Whenever I was confused or felt low, I would just peep into his room and he would tell me ‘keep doing what you’re doing and listen to your heart’. There was a sense of peace, of understanding, of simply knowing that seeped into your soul whenever he spoke to you,” recalls Rajesh.

What is, however, going to stand him in good stead, he feels, is the three-hour sadagam that he used to undertake with Shrinivas every day. “When we were not travelling, the joint morning practice session was a must. For me, they were actually revelations in raga-rhythm structures. At the end of each session, I seemed to grow into a better musician. My brother had the uncanny knack of simplifying and deconstructing the most complex of musical phrases.”

All these experiences and memories are what make up  Timeless , the album that will be released this Season and is the last live recording of the brothers’ cutcheri. It was performed at T.A. Rajarathinam auditorium in Mylapore. “For me Timeless  is an emotional catharsis. The freezing of a precious phase of my life,” says Rajesh, who is also busy winding up work on his album with singer Karthik.  

It’s tentatively titled Srishti , which is also the name of the duo’s band. Except two traditional compositions, the album will have many original tracks composed by Karthik and Rajesh. The versatile and amiable Karthik is an excellent person to work with, says Rajesh. “We have done many stage shows and this album is an extension of our camaraderie and musical thought process. The only regret, of course, is I will not get to hear my brother’s valuable opinion,” he says, quietly wiping his tears.

The next moment he gathers himself and adds, “My brother would have disliked to see me this way —wallowing in sorrow. At the hospital, when he held my hand and I saw his pulse drop, I still saw hope in his eyes. And the only words he uttered were ‘I want to go home’. I have brought him back… his indefatigable spirit and dynamic music will keep me company forever.”

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