If you have been a witness to this year’s Academy awards, apart from Hugh Jackman’s spirited show almost likening him to a ringmaster, you would have noticed that one other recurring theme was “Slumdog Millionaire.” Well, there is nothing to say that hasn’t been said by the Western press about this Danny Boyle movie, but surely mine is a small attempt to delineate the inspiring journey of its music composer A.R. Rahman.
Rahman’s journey is both awe inspiring and surprising and has been chronicled by the Indian press ever since he made his entry onto the Indian music scene. Awe inspiring because his journey could very well be the story of the protagonist of this movie. Surprising because of the amount of reams and bandwidth dedicated to him by the modern media, at times rivaling that of limelight-hogging stars in front of the camera.
He is one of the rare cases, where no amount of exposure would be overexposure. Apparently there is so much to him, his body of work and his journey both as a person and a musician that no one ever questioned the coverage and the excess!
Born as Dileep Shekhar, the soft-spoken Rahman came to be known by his now famous name when he converted to Islam after an alleged miracle helped his sister come back to medical normalcy.
Rahman’s entry was akin to a drop of rain falling on a parched musical land. Until he arrived, Indian music lovers were subjected to run-of-the-mill music at least from the early late ’80s, a phase dominated by dogmas in film music. The entire nation woke up to his music almost in a proverbial fashion when he arrived with his groundbreaking score for the 1992 movie “Roja.” The movie was noticed for its music as much as the way it sounded. The listeners started to appreciate every nuance in his tracks, with every instrument reaching their craving ears, almost unheard of hitherto.
Rahman, in his unassuming way, broke all film music canons that were plaguing other movies. He brought a freshness, a new sound to the mainstream cinema courtesy of his background in advertisements and jingles. “A flash in the pan,” said some. “A mere jingle maker,” said some. “A techno synthetic fluke,” cried others almost in a tearing hurry to dismiss this new music sensation.
Unperturbed, Rahman moved on to score gems for all movies that he worked on, almost jolting fellow composers out of their states of self denial in times to follow. The ease with which Rahman combined old world with new wave and his felicity with technology and sound in an unpretentious way endeared him to millions. Rahman’s greatness reflected in his relative position to others as much as in his stand alone achievements.
India with its vastness in geography, cultures and tastes led to each regional movie industry becoming a bastion of a select few. There were clear north, south, east, west divides in all walks of life, and particularly the arts. Making inroads into areas with such psyche, Rahman and his music bridged the gulf to a large extent.
His music grew to have a pan Indian appeal, and going by history and geography, this was surely no mean feat. People from all walks of life began to appreciate his music.
No style, no genre was left untouched by this musical genius in a career spanning almost two decades. Indian classical (both southern Carnatic and northern Hindustani), Western classical, symphonic, rap, reggae, Indian folk, country, jazz, rock, soft rock, pop, blues, junk, period music, Sufi, you name it and Rahman had it in his repertoire. Fusion took a new definition in his work, and the most delightful aspect was its seamlessness.
While Rahman’s earlier work was characterized by simple and straightforward arrangements, intense and dramatic layering came to define his work of late. Dry scenes and screenplays were lifted to an altogether different level with his relevant and thoroughly enriching background scores.
The way he seemed to understand a director’s vision and take from all schools seemed to have few parallels. No wonder the top directors queued up to have him on their projects, and quite often Rahman’s name in the credits and movie posters took the craze to dizzying heights. He became the go-to guy for intense period dramas, silly campus capers, biopics, thrillers, romances, comedies, episodic fare and of course musicals.
Everyone wanted to have a chunk of Rahman, for he was equally adept at all forms without contempt for any. Aspiring singers, musicians and technicians swear by him for he has single-handedly initiated and nourished the culture of giving fresh talents the necessary breaks, almost making them household names.
The name of every single entity responsible for his music appeared on the inlay cards and CD covers, a practice totally without any earlier instances. If Rahman was tapping the new talent at regular intervals and revitalizing the careers of many an old timer, purists and venerated musicians began to collaborate with him, which resulted in some outstanding fusion fare. His work with renowned vocalists and instrumentalists proved he could play to the galleries and the connoisseurs alike. His music made his fans feel the earth beneath as much as it made them walk on clouds.
The timely entry of newer forms of technology, both visual and sound formats, also contributed to Rahman’s success. Great music was almost always complemented with greater visuals, taking the movie-watching experience to another level. Few directors in Indian cinema seemed to understand this, and for those who did, I reckon Rahman always stored his best. Movies began to be sold purely on the basis of these director-music director combos, at times funnily pushing the actors and story to a backseat. Such was the power of brand Rahman. The technology he intelligently made use of was so advanced, at least from an Indian standpoint, it almost became impossible to replicate his music at concerts and shows. But in all this the soul never was butchered, and at least for this amazing balance, Rahman stood out from his contemporaries.
Rahman had contemporaries in loads, some of them being totally scornful about his music. But the self-assured musician he was, Rahman always dodged the verbal volleys with a gentle smile and let his music speak for him. There have been absolutely no instances in media of him indulging in any kind of mudslinging whatsoever, an uncommon feature in a place like India.
But success didn’t come to him overnight, nor were any musical comforts dished out on a platter. Having lost his musician father, young Rahman has had to shoulder family responsibilities at a very early age. Passion for music and eagerness to learn helped him withstand those tough times when he was a part of small time rock bands. This school dropout is known to have been a member of musical troupes and orchestras of various musical big shots to earn his bread.
All this slowly and surely helped him gain entry into the world of ads and jingles. Rahman made pots of money, earned fame and soon was destined to break open the Indian film musical scene. All this would make sense and one could relate to all this if one understood what a mind-numbing cultural, geographical entity that part of the planet is.
It was only fitting that this thoroughly enjoyable rags-to-riches drama of hope helped Rahman win two Oscars. Talk of divine justice! Not that the award was his goal, but this pinnacle in motion picture history should make more doors open for this truly global genius and result in more out-of-the-world collaborations.
A part of his acceptance speech went like this: “All my life I had a choice of hate and love, and I chose love.” In his ethereal, mesmerizing music, the latter is evident and its choice seems justified.
Santosh Kumar T.K. is a graduate student in forest products. He can be contacted at [email protected].