God's own musician - Photo: G. Venket A.R. Rahman does not make music; it is born within, like a feeling of love for the divine By Kavitha Muralidharan and Bidisha Ghosal When Allah Rakha Rahman said 'ella pugazhum iraivanukke' (all glory to God)-a phrase he unfailingly repeats on every stage-holding the Oscar statuette at the Kodak Theater, those close to him could feel the depth of meaning he gave those words. For God is this musician's muse, the creative influence that kept him in tune with himself during days of struggle and keeps bringing out the genius in him through music as eternal as Himself.
Music was his conjoined twin-united at the heart, inseparable from the soul. As a toddler, Rahman played with the harmonium to the astonishment of music directors who thronged the studio of his father, R.K. Shekhar. One of them, Sudharshanam, suggested that he be taught music. Thus began a melodious journey. The four-year-old student of the piano is now a 42-year-old maestro standing tall at world music's crossroads. But the double Oscar winner's life has not been easy. The world around the nine-year-old almost collapsed when his father died. His mother, Kareema Begum, held the family together. Even when his father's music instruments had to be rented out to eke out a living, Kareema let Rahman dream big. "Father never allowed us to take any loan when he was alive," recalls A.R. Reihana, Rahman's elder sister. "The going got tough, but mother made sure we held together." Young Rahman used to pester his mother for new music instruments. "He starved for a day or two if denied. And she would relent. Pledging her jewels, she bought him the instrument he wanted. Of course, he would redeem her jewels by doing some assignments." "Despite hardships, mother never compromised on food. She always believed it was improper eating habits that killed our father. So we would always have a sumptuous meal. But whenever Rahman forced her to buy a musical instrument, she would cook only rice and rasam for the next two days. Just to drive home the point that she has bought him the stuff with great difficulty," says Reihana. Kareema kept renting out musical instruments, until, as Reihana puts it, "a neighbour stole our clients". At age 11, Rahman joined Ilayaraja's troupe as a keyboard player. He earned and learned while working with senior composers, and played more instruments for longer hours. "Once, when composer Vizi Manuel could not do a jingle for want of time, he sent the client to Rahman," Reihana recalls. Thus he started composing jingles and many of which won rave reviews. Some won awards and one-for the Leo Coffee ad-won Mani Ratnam's heart. The director sent a tape of the track 'Chinna chinna aasai' to veteran filmmaker K. Balachander. He listened to it over and over again, and sent a note to Mani Ratnam that it was the 'song of the decade'. Balachander made Roja in 1992, and Rahman proved the producer right. Be it the chirpy 'Chinna chinna aasai', the movingly patriotic 'Thamizhaa thamizhaa' or the breezily sexy 'Rukumani Rukumani', Rahman cast a spell of fine music on people. Roja changed his life. "He became a total workaholic. He stopped going to parties after Roja. He spent more time in the studio. For him, music was a profession and hobby," says Reihana. Sometimes, his mother had to send her grandchildren to the studio to remind him to eat. His younger sister, Fatima, is ecstatic about the award: "We are very happy, and our mother is elated that he took her name in his Oscar acceptance speech." "There is no stopping him," says G.V. Prakash, Rahman's nephew, a promising music director. "Oscars are a beautiful result of his hard work. His dedication is amazing, and his style is distinct and rare." Rahman's guru, M.K. Arjunan master, says there was "never anything unnatural about his growth. He lived his music. His father took him to all his recordings. He took piano lessons and continued to play the piano at home. His mother would often tell me that the house was never devoid of music." A god-fearing Dileep Kumar converted to Islam and became Rahman in the late 1980s. His friends say he was dejected by his father's death, and when one of his sisters fell very ill, a Muslim pir, Sheik Abdul Qadir Jeelani, prayed for her. A miraculous recovery perhaps influenced the family to convert to Islam. Rahman has said that 'becoming Rahman from Dileep was like being born again.' "There was a significant change in him after conversion," says Reihana. "It was not unusual for him to go to bars and attend parties late into the night. He stopped all that. He became far more sober and far more disciplined. Today, you can see him only with his music or at his prayers." Fatima recalls that he took time to master the keyboards, and disparaging remarks from senior composers and directors hurt him. His innate strength saw him through vicissitudes. "We never saw him upset or angry about anything," says Fatima. "He was extremely calm and lovable. While singing the background harmony for 'Rukumani Rukumani' in Roja, he was guiding us towards a different style of singing altogether. Not once did he get impatient even though we took long to get it right. When I finally heard the song, I was amazed at what he had done with our voices." Reihana says that perhaps the only disappointment was that he could not continue his studies beyond class XI. "He missed his school life, but he never let that affect him." Rahman faced disappointments further down his career, too. Khaled Mohammed, who worked with Rahman in Tehzeeb, says Bollywood doesn't promote music well unless the film has superstars. "Rahman's main desire is to reach out to as many people as possible, and when that doesn't happen he gets disappointed," he says. "He even made a few calls to T-Series for Tehzeeb, but when nothing happened he shrugged it off. He is not one to get angry or brood over anything." In a recent blog, director Shekhar Kapur says: "I watched as the studio rejected the most beautiful compositions from Rahman, because they did not get or were not willing to embrace something from another culture. As it happened, the score of Elizabeth: The Golden Age was not half as good as it could have been." Rahman persisted to win the greatest award in filmdom. But, for those around him, Rahman would still be the same whatever unimaginable heights he scales. Back from Los Angeles, before any formal felicitation, Rahman said he would visit the Ameen Peer Dargah in Kadapa, Andhra Pradesh. An ardent devotee of Hazrath Khwaja Syed Sha Peerullah Malik and Hazrath Khwaja Syed Sha Ameenullah Malik, Rahman used to spend time near their tombs. Following his many visits since 2005, prominent personalities, like Abhishek Bachchan, Aishwarya Rai, Samajwadi Party president Amar Singh and actor-turned-politician Chiranjeevi, visited the shrine. Music binds us. Even Slumdog Millionaire's success was not easy. It had practically nothing going for it. Its budget was a fraction of that spent on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Its director, Danny Boyle, was on a downslide in his career. Its cast had a motley of Indian actors. If it could boast of anything, it was cinematographer Anthony Dodd Mantle and a faintly familiar Rahman, because of his Andrew Lloyd Webber link. "On the last day, the money had run out, the cameraman was leaving and we still had four crucial scenes to be shot," says Anil Kapoor, who played the game-show host. "It was madness. But Danny and I were on a roll and we shot full steam ahead till four hours past our usual schedule, and the quiz was complete." It has been a rags-to-riches story for most of the cast and crew. Resul Pookutty is a household name thanks to his Oscar. Frieda Pinto is getting international offers. Dev Patel has the likes of Sharon Stone hitting on him and has been making appearances in talk shows successfully. Slum children Rubina Ali and Azharuddin Ismail have been enrolled in a better school and a trust fund has been set up for their future. Bollywood veteran Gulzar and singer Sukhwinder Singh have also received their fair share of accolades. Does this win mean Bollywood will start looking at movies differently? "It's an amazing victory not just for those involved in the film but for the industry as a whole. You never know, production houses may be looking at foreign directors now," says director Madhur Bhandarkar. Never-never land has been found. With more ingenuity and dedication, Indian cinema could meet international standards and build a Bollywood that would take its films around the globe. Jai ho!
