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This is an archive article published on October 17, 2004

‘I Catch the Sunrise & the Sunset’

Are you really as unsociable as everyone makes you out to be?I’m shy, but not unsociable. I have a close group of friends with whom I l...

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Are you really as unsociable as everyone makes you out to be?
I’m shy, but not unsociable. I have a close group of friends with whom I let my hair down. But yes, I’m not over-friendly. My work requires me to meet all kinds of people, so it’s not as if I’m not used to strangers. How I interact with them depends on my mood and circumstances. Sometimes, you can have the best conversations with people you don’t know.

Everyone who comes into contact with you describes you in superlatives. What is your assessment of yourself?
I deliver my best but it is not fair to give me all the credit for my tunes. My team works equally hard and so does the director who projects my creation onto a visual medium. I’m open to constructive criticism and encourage my team to tell me when they feel a particular tune is not working, which they do. My assessment of my work stems from their responses and from the approval of my film-makers.

How do you choose your film-makers?
It is tough and it has become increasingly difficult in the last few years. Earlier it was easier because I was not well known and could rely on my instincts. But now, there are greater expectations from me. The easiest way out, of course, is to work with people you’ve already worked with, so you are familiar with their talent and their temperament, as in the case of Mani Ratnam and now, Ashutosh Gowariker. Credibility of the director and the lyricist is the most important. At this stage of my career it is embarrassing to be associated with people who don’t deliver. In the past I’ve trusted producers and delivered music which, after all these years, remains in the cans. It is a colossal waste of time, energy and the involvement of my team. It is not a comfortable feeling.

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It’s difficult to believe any producer today will not fulfil a promise made to AR Rahman.

  The ivory tower makes the same demands from me for a living as it does from a slum dweller. We see the same skyline from our window at the end of the day and hear the same bells toll

I’m not saying that they do it deliberately or out of manipulation. It’s circumstances. They probably lack finance or are facing some other problems. Let me give you an example. A few years ago, two film-makers approached me around the same time. The first was an established banner and the second, talented but new to the business. Both wanted immediate tunes. I had in my stock of compositions, two ready tunes. The first, by my own admission, was an average composition. And the second, above average. On instinct, I provided the average composition to the established banner, who turned it into that year’s superhit song. The second, which was in fact the better tune, never got released. It’s something I’ve always wondered about. There is a possibility that had I exchanged the tunes between the two film-makers, the superhit would have been an even bigger success.

There is a possibility that it may not have worked at all.
Sure, there is that possibility too. Till the tune is ready and finalised by the director, the music composer is never completely satisfied with his creation. He can never enjoy his own music until much later, sometimes maybe even years later.

Most of the time directors signing you for an assignment are looking at you for inspiration. Where do you draw your muses from?
From life, from faith… I don’t know. I don’t want to analyse too much. Thinking too much takes me away from the natural process of seeking my journey. Probably the faith comes from my religion. Nothing is possible without His will… neither my talent nor my innumerable compositions. He is secretly guarding it all and guiding me in my pursuits. The only time I feel I’m all alone and nobody can help is when I’m before a live audience at my concerts (laughs).

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Swades is a film about the common man. How does someone who lives in an ivory tower associate with the sounds of everyday life?
The ivory tower makes the same demands from me for a living as it does from a slum dweller. We see the same skyline from our window at the end of the day and hear the same bells toll. I’m not out of touch with reality. I go out wherever my heart tells me to, be it to a restaurant for a meal or to a dargah for a public prayer. An artiste gets noticed in public only if he wants to be noticed. With my height I’m quite inconspicuous and by the time people recognise and approach me, I’ve usually accomplished my mission and I’m out of the arena.

  At this stage of my career, it is embarrassing to be associated with people who don’t deliver. In the past I’ve trusted producers and delivered music which, after all these years, remains in the cans. It is a colossal waste of time and energy

Subhash Ghai once referred to you as mercury. Do you agree with the description?
I’m not sure what Subhashji was thinking when he said that. This must have been during Taal. He could not be referring to my temperament because I’m very calm and far from mercurial. He probably meant someone you cannot hold on to.

Producers say that if you want to work with Rahman, you should be able to do two things: Park yourself in Chennai and be able to keep awake all night.
Look, I’m not forcing anyone to work with me but if I live in Chennai, that’s where they will have to come. About keeping awake, I am comfortable working at night but that does not mean that the film-makers have to keep awake with me as well. Shyam Benegal did not, when I was composing Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose. He would be in the studios till midnight and then come next morning to listen to the compositions. But Subhash Ghai, because he is a music lover, wanted to wait and watch the creative process during Taal. So it’s their individual choice.

How did you get into this strange pattern of working?
Many years ago, when I was working for outside composers, my day was devoted to them and the only time I could call my own were the nights. That’s when I played instruments and created my own compositions. I loved the stillness of the night when I could create peacefully without interruptions. Gradually, the process became a habit. After so many years I have got so used to it psychologically that I cannot start working till night falls. The adrenaline does not flow until then.

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And how do you manage to catch up on your sleep?
I work through the night, starting at dusk and ending at dawn. The 5 am namaaz is a precious slot and if I sleep at a normal time, there is no way I’d be able to wake up for it. So I wrap up my recording at 5 am, say my prayers and retire to bed. I wake up anytime in the afternoon after 2, have my bath, read the papers, eat lunch, talk to the family and am ready to visit my studio again at 6.30 pm. This way I’m able to catch both, the sunrise as well as the sunset. I’m not sure how many people are as fortunate as I.

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