In the Madras of the 1980s and part of the 1990s, if life could throw up a background score, it had to be Ilaiyaraaja. He was all pervading as his music seeped into your veins and blended with every upheaval, triumph, and adolescent quibble.
A college trip to Kodaikanal propped up on an overnight journey by Pandian Express and then a bus-ride up the ghats from Kodai Road Station would find Ilaiyaraaja as the accompanying friend, philosopher and guide. He was physically absent but his notes were a steady auditory presence. “Nila adhu vanathu mele” from Nayagan or “Raja rajadhi rajan indha raja” from Agni Nakshatram or “Nila kayum neram saranam” from Sembaruthi were all sung with gusto alongside a cassette player belting out these numbers in the bus. The trips may vary, once Ooty, another time Goa, but that one constant was Ilaiyaraaja’s music.
Distinct background score
At times the movies didn’t matter but his music always did. Even in cult films with great songs like, for instance, Mani Ratnam’s Mouna Ragam, you tend to distinctly remember the background score too. Take that stretch when Karthik leaps from the police jeep and is running full tilt towards a waiting Revathi. It is heart-pounding, poetic, there is adrenaline and the soft lilt of first love and perhaps even a hint about an imminent tragedy.
This was a master at work, a legend, finding a permanent slot in your heart. Even in other languages, he left an indelible mark. His intro-music for Samrajyam, the stylish Mammootty-starrer in which the star plays a don, was the stuff of dreams. In Kannada, Ilaiyaraaja gave an incredible score and songs in Pallavi Anu Pallavi, incidentally Mani Ratnam’s debut film.
The flavour of the season
And then he issued those cassettes — ‘How to name it’ or ‘Nothing but wind’ — with some of the finest instrumental notes. Cut to the present with his “Kanmani Anbodu” from Guna finding a second-wind in the Malayalam blockbuster Manjummel Boys, Ilaiyaraaja is the flavour of the season.
The hype just quadrupled with Dhanush starring in an Ilaiyaraaja biopic. While the maestro’s musical output is mind-boggling, it remains to be seen how the movie would address the warts, as no man is perfect. The slow-drifting away by auteurs like Mani Ratnam, the issue over royalty for around the songs, the odd reports of petulance, the emergence of A.R. Rahman and the way he handled it, all revealed layers to an Ilaiyaraaja we knew only through his compositions.
Every fan will have his own favourite Ilaiyaraaja memory linked to a song, perhaps an interview he gave to a Tamil magazine, or the impromptu chats he does during his stage-shows. Dhanush has a hard act to follow but from what we see so far, he does suit the role.
