Why Ilaiyaraaja is the truth
There is a song for every human emotion and everyday chores of life. There is a song for every mood, every genre. There is a song for every religion, every community. His music, in short, is everywhere. And the man behind these compositions is not just a maestro, but a blessing from Nature itself.
He takes the human form in the name of Ilaiyaraaja.
What more can one write about Raaja that has not been written already, that too in a crisp 250 words? Should we discuss how conveniently his music has permeated our lives? Or should we talk about the therapeutic nature of his songs?
Let’s not, even for a moment, commit the mistake of trying to ‘decode’ the complexities of his compositions. Take a simple ‘Rasathi Unna’ from Vaithegi Kathirunthal , for instance. Plug in your earphones and observe how the song has been arranged. The opening lines are gentle and welcoming, but you wait for Raaja to kick in. And when that happens, it produces an almost oscillating effect on you. It is bliss. It is life.
There is music that leaves you with a lingering sense of lightness — like ‘Raguman’s’ music would do. And there is music that has the power to cleanse your soul and make you a better person with each sitting.
Ilaiyaraaja has been doing that soul cleansing work for close to five decades now.
— Srivatsan S swears by Ilaiyaraaja because…‘Raaja kaiya vecha, adhu wrong-ah ponathu illa’
But A.R. Rahman changed the idea of music forever
When I first heard the songs of Roja, way back in 1992 in a transistor at home, it was like nothing I had heard until then. My ears perked up. I was an immediate convert.
I remain one till date. That ARR changed the paradigm of Tamil music, and later Indian music, is an opinion no one, not even die-heard Ilaiyaraaja fans, will dispute. He changed the way we thought about music itself.
ARR brought music closer to the common man, he made us dance, sing along and discover the singer within each of us.
If a school-going kid grooved to ‘Chikku Bukku’, he would have grown up to woo his college sweetheart with ‘Enakku Oru Girlfriend’ ( Boys ) and subsequently, landed a plum IT job abroad, only to listen to the goosebump-inducing ‘Yeh Do Des Hai’ ( Swades ) and feel nostalgic. As a ‘90s kid, you grew up with ARR.
If Ilaiyaraaja and his music came across as a brooding headmaster, ARR’s work was that friend (and later, friendly uncle) that you could hang out with.
If Ilaiyaraaja got people to get together in a mofussil bus in interior Tamil Nadu, ARR made it a truly delicately personal experience — one that would seep into yours ears through Walkmans, and later headphones, and be more than happy to be your companion.
In my eyes, that kind of “friendship” is worth much more than the composer’s two Oscars.
— Srinivasa Ramanujam is the world’s best singer... when he’s inside the bathroom.
In this column, we pit two Chennai icons against each other
