P Jayachandran: The singer who showed us that music is about emotions, and not perfection

Don’t miss | Rekhachithram movie review: Asif Ali, Anaswara Rajan’s mystery thriller is a tribute to the magical allure of cinema

There’s a popular anecdote about the 1984 Tamil film Vaidehi Kaathirundhal — it’s said that every day the movie played at a theatre in Kambam, Theni, the song “Rasathi Unna” drew wild elephants close to the theatre. They apparently would stay until the song ended before quietly returning to the forest. Whether this story is true or not, it wouldn’t be surprising if it were — especially considering the numerous studies on the impact music can have on animals. Even if the elephants weren’t truly enchanted, the track has certainly captivated all of us. Of course, much of the credit for the mesmerising piece goes to “Isaignani” Ilaiyaraaja and lyricist Vaali. But think about it — one of the most celebrated Tamil melodies of all time wasn’t sung by a Tamil, but by the Malayali Jayachandran. Sure, his Tamil pronunciation might not match that of a native speaker, and Ilaiyaraaja too must have thought about this; yet the song remains etched in our hearts and the reason lies in Jayachandran’s extraordinary ability to effortlessly breathe life and emotion into every song he sings, thus earning the sobriquet “Bhaava Gayakan“.

Although KJ Yesudas is revered as the Gaanagandharvan (Celestial Singer), Jayachandran’s rendition of “Therirangum Mukile” from Mazhathullikkilukkam (2002) feels as if his voice descends from the outer world, seamlessly flowing beyond our ears and settling deeply within our hearts. From his early days itself, Jayachandran showed exceptional skill in delivering vocal embellishments, such as extended vowels, as heard in legendary composer MS Baburaj’s “Anuraagagaanam Pole” (Udhyogastha, 1967). Yet, he always exercised restraint, never using playback singing as a platform to flaunt his mastery of Carnatic music or his vocal prowess. In the visuals of “Therirangum Mukile,” a young man is shown singing to soothe his adoptive elderly mothers to sleep and Jayachandran has approached the song with equal delicacy, perfectly preserving the scene’s emotion.

Playback singer P Jayachandran being rehearsed by actor-filmmaker Balachandran Menon. (Express archive photo)

The way Jayachandran rendered each song makes one wonder if he personally knew the characters and could see through their souls, capturing their emotions with remarkable precision. Be it “Karimukilkkaattile” (Kallichellamma, 1969), “Nin Padangalil” (Nazhikakkallu, 1970), “Sandhyaykkenthinu Sindooram” (Maaya, 1972), “Roopavathi Nin” (Kalachakram, 1973), “Nakshathramandala Nada Thurannu” (Panchavadi, 1973), “Suprabhaatham” (Panitheeratha Veedu, 1973), “Ramzanile Chandrikayo” (Alibabayum 41 Kallanmaarum, 1975), “Vasantha Kaala” (Moondru Mudichu, 1976), “Ragam Sreeragam” (Bandhanam, 1978), “Poovilae Medai” (Pagal Nilavu, 1985), “Chinna Poove Mella Pesu” (1987) or “Aavani Poovin” (CID Unnikrishnan BA BEd, 1994), he brought out the emotional depth of every character he provided voice to and it was as if a Jayachandran song was all it required to convey the full range of any character’s emotions.

Unlike many of his contemporaries who stepped back for emerging voices, Jayachandran remained a beloved choice for composers across generations and continued to be the same in the 2000s too. The track “Prayam Nammil” (Niram, 1999), composed by Vidyasagar, was pivotal in reaffirming his stature during this era and its alap alone underscored his effortless command over intricate tracks, solidifying his unmatched artistry. From “Devaragame Mele” (Prem Poojari, 1999), “Kaakkappoo Kaithappoo” (Arayannangalude Veedu, 2000), “Poove Poove” (Devadoothan, 2000), “Aarum” (Nandanam, 2002), “Kannathil Muthamittal” (2002), “Swayamvara Chandrike” (Chronic Bachelor, 2003), “Vavavo Vave” (Ente Veedu Appoontem, 2003), “Aalilathaaliyumaay” (Mizhirandilum, 2003), “Aalilekkavile” (Pattalam, 2003) and “Keranirakaladum” (Jalolsavam, 2004), to “Kallayi Kadavathe” (Perumazhakkalam, 2004), “Punnellin Kathirola” (Made in USA, 2005), “Thankamanassu” (Rappakal, 2005), “Ithaloornnu” (Thanmathra, 2005), “Nerinazhaku” (Thommanum Makkalum, 2005), “Sharadambaram” (Ennu Ninte Moideen, 2015), “Podimeesa” (Pa Va, 2016) and “Aattuthottil” (Athiran, 2019), Jayachandran turned every song he touched into something timeless.

Jayachandran (right) with singers Darshana and S Janaki and music director Jaidev. (Express archive photo)

While he could masterfully convey any emotion through his vocals, Jayachandran’s romantic tracks stood tallest. For those in love, his music deepened their feelings and for those yet to fall in love, it stirred a yearning to experience it so that they could allow the tracks to hit them harder. Songs like “Kodiyile Malliyappoo” (Kadalora Kavithaigal, 1986), “Sisirakala Megha Midhuna” (Devaraagam, 1996), “Marannittumenthino” (Randam Bhavam, 2001), “Ariyathe Ariyathe” (Raavanaprabhu, 2001), “Enthe Innum Vanneela” (Gramophone, 2003), “Viral Thottal” (Phantom, 2002), “Onnu Thodanullil” (Yathrakarude Sradhakku, 2002), “Neeyoru Puzhayay” (Thilakkam, 2003), “Nee Manimukilaadakal” (Vellithira, 2003), “Aaraarum Kaanaathe” (Chandrolsavam, 2005), “Premikkumbol” (Salt N’ Pepper, 2011) and “Olanjali Kuruvi” (1983 Movie, 2014) are just a few examples of romantic songs where he poured his soul into the music, making them truly immortal.

No matter who the composer was — Baburaj, Ilaiyaraaja, Johnson, Devarajan, Raveendran, Vidyasagar, AR Rahman or MS Viswanathan — or the lyricist, Jayachandran was the trusted voice for the maestros when they found their compositions too intricate to perfect. Regardless, he embraced their ethos with such effortless grace that it feels as though these songs wouldn’t have been truly complete without his voice.

It feels pointless to say goodbye to P Jayachandran because only his own voice can console us in his absence — and that voice will live on in our playlists forever. But still, as a formality, see you on the other side, chief! And whenever we find ourselves slipping into the depths of emptiness, don’t forget to return from beyond and softly whisper in our ears, “Raasaathi unnai kaannadha nenju kaathaadi polaadudhu…“