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A. R. Rahman: The Musical Storm OSCAR winner A. R. Rahman’s musical odyssey had begun quietly, softy and oh so melodiously. From the time he leapt into national consciousness with his memorable number chotti si aasha to today, when an awestruck nation stands grateful for bringing it the much-coveted Oscars, curiosity about India’s best-known music composer has grown in leaps and bounds. Stories, and rumours too, about him have always abounded and circulated as fast. So what does Kamini Mathai offer you in this biography of the man whom Chennai has rightly named Isai puyal a musical storm?
From poignant recounting of past, Kamini moves on to the making of the musical phenomenon for whom music transcends beyond and is akin to a prayer and an obeisance. You bet, the book affirms that all those rumours that he composes in the night with a candle burning are not unfounded at all. Actually, his musicians and singers swear by the divine aura that prevails in his studio housed in his rather modest home. That Rahman embraced Islam is a well-known fact, but here one learns that he refuses to compose if lyrics are vulgar. Come to think of it, till Roja happened, Rahman was well Dileep and acclaimed director Mani Ratnam even had the initial album jacket covers with the name Dileep on it. Interestingly, he was named A. R. Rahman even before the initials meant anything. Then his mother had a vision of the name Allah Rakha. In fact, the book is full of many such personal details as well as anecdotes that allow you to meet the man more pertinently the human being with both frailties and strengths. So, your eyes turn moist when you learn that Rahman, who lost his father at the tender age of nine, is mortally afraid of death, of losing his loved ones. That he is vulnerable manifests in many more ways like his refusal to share the birth date of his children. It is evident that the book is not really based on in-depth interviews with Rahman himself and is largely culled out of observations and comments of significant others. This becomes its biggest strength by default. So, you have a perceptive insight into the music of the shy and recalcitrant man who would perhaps nay in all likelihood been too shy to really glorify it. Kamini too shies away from eulogising or edifying the singer composer. Thus, the critical and unflattering remarks are well accounted for. Yet, none of his so-called failings like giving precedence to sound over lyrics, giving more credence to feelings than pronunciations and accents undermine the genius of Rahman who has virtually broken every single rule of making music. So, he records the song when the legendary Lata Mangeshkar is actually rehearsing. Since he understands technology as well as music, "cut and paste" is his natural way of working, a style that suits the new generation of singers yet annoys the purists. Similarly, while he is not only the first composer to give credit by-lines to all of his musicians, he even allows the singers and musicians creativity and freedom to traverse their own expanse. Nevertheless, music for Rahman is made only when he is satisfied. To say that he is not easily satiated is putting it mildly. Why he works and reworks till the last minute (making his producers wait endlessly), often scraps the whole score if dissatisfied. Often the music in the movies might have additional inputs. Perhaps it is this quest for perfection that makes him the tallest of India’s composers. Anyway, Kamini successfully manages to construct this Rahman, the Mozart of East and India’s very own international celebrity with ease and felicity. Her writing style is both engaging and evocative. So much so that one can almost visualise Rahman working in his studio, taking a break for his prayers, searching for the perfect sound. His generosity, simplicity, honesty and even occasional faux pas (not in music though) all shine through. And yes, what he admitted to the whole world, "mere paas maa hai", at the Oscar ceremony is doubly reinforced. Redoubtably, his mother Kareema has been the singular guiding influence in his life. So have been Sufism and Islam. Of course, as against the spellbinding temper of the narrative that the writer maintains in the beginning, the book does meander off in later parts, gets a bit repetitive and ends a trifle abruptly. But then at 42, Rahman’s journey cannot be rounded off to a climax or a definite conclusion. The concluding line does sum up the infinite possibilities: "Only the candle burns as A. R. Rahman begins to work again." Never mind that one doesn’t come to know what he thinks or feels about his wife Saira or his daughters, the book is a must read if you are a Rahman buff and a compelling one even if you are not.
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Well
for starts, after briefly capturing the momentous Oscar moment, she
takes you to the genesis of the storm. A leap into the past, when his
father R K Sekhar, himself a gifted arranger, sensed the musical
genius of his prodigal son and led him on. However, before the little
boy could be nurtured and honed, father’s debilitating illness and
tragic death robbed the young Dileep not only of his childhood but
also ensured that music began as bread and butter and not a passion.