Voice of the Vaigai

Says Akhtar, of Vairamuthu’s first and resounding national hit (with Hindi lyrics translated by PK Mishra): ‘‘I heard ‘Chinna-chinna asai’ before it became ‘Dil hai chhota-sa’. I liked the tune so much that I asked a Tamil friend to tell me the words. I found the poetry so delightful that I made a translation, which I’ve kept safe even now.’’

The man in question has a huge fan following in his home state. Called ‘Kaviarasu’ (king of poets), and now pushing 50, his oeuvre runs into 31 anthologies, while 12 Ph.ds and 30 M. phils. have been reaped in his name. A R Rehman used to work exclusively with him through the 90s (both have moved on to other creative partnerships, notably Vairamuthu with former Rehman keyboard whiz, Harris Jeyaraj). Of his own evolution, Vairamuthu says he was ‘‘A child of solitude, wholly alive to Nature.’’ Growing up in rural Tamil Nadu by the Vaigai river in the southern Pandyan country around Madurai, Vairamuthu, whose name means ‘heera-moti’ in Hindi, was the son of a farmer, who grew rice, sugarcane, vegetables and chillies. ‘‘Metur, my ancestral village was inundated in 1958 along with 13 other villages to build the Vaigai Dam. My family uprooted entire rocks and trees which they had an emotional connection with, to Vadugapatti, which is a major panchayat. I absorbed my love of Tamil from my soil, in which I rolled and played, and from the local public library which had shelves and shelves of the world’s best literature,’’ says Vairamuthu passionately.

He went on to Pachhaippa’s College, Chennai, to graduate in Tamil Literature, and became an ‘‘MA gold medallist’’. An anthology of his verse, called ‘Dawn Clouds’ was published in 1972, and while the poet was himself yet a student, was actually prescribed as part of the syllabus by the prestigious Women’s Christian College (WCC), Chennai, in 1974. It was hastily withdrawn when the author’s identity became known! While at university, Vairamuthu fell in love with his professor’s daughter, Ponmani, herself a sound Tamil scholar whose doctoral dissertation at Madras University was on ‘Aspects of modern literature in Sangam literature’ (the 3,000-year-old classical literature that gives Tamil its attitude vis-a-vis Hindi). ‘‘But do you know, we were such polite and respectful young people, we didn’t even hold hands — even our fingers didn’t touch by accident — until we were married,’’ confides Vairamuthu, who, at 23, found himself a government job as translator, so that he could marry. (He later opted full-time for cinema). Says Vairamuthu, ‘‘In my 35 years as a poet, I have worked with about 50 music directors. In the late 80s, I wrote for RD Burman (Ulagam Pirandadu Yenakke) for Laxmikant-Pyarelal (Uyire Onakke and for Andanda Shankar (Kannada film Hamsalekha). What gets me excited is melody with song. I enjoy Rehman’s fusion very much. But while with poetry, I am king, with music, I am the servant. Perhaps because I love the spoken word so much, a wordless tune to me is a beautiful shirt hanging from a nail, dancing empty in the air. When it carries lyrics, it is as though it has a human body in it and comes alive!’’ (There was a famous ‘incident’ a couple of years ago in which Vairamuthu publicly asked Rehman to give more space to lyrics in his compositions. While there was no obvious spat, they ceased to be an ‘exclusive’ team and began working quietly with others. Both are tight-lipped on the subject).

Meanwhile, as the flagbearer of India’s oldest poetic tradition, Vairamuthu clarifies the Tamil stand on several perceptions on his home state. ‘‘Number One, we are not separatists or terrorists. We belong to India and everyone had better get used to it. Language? Understand our history: with the diluting effect of Sanskrit, separate languages formed and the Tamil country got broken up into linguistic entities. If we allow Hindi in, we will lose our soul. Already the davani (half-sari) is made extinct by the salwar-kameez. I’m not against free choice and progress. But I’m scared that we Tamils will lose our identity.’’

‘‘As for hating Brahmins, I now say there’s a lot to learn from them that will help the country: their discipline, intellectual tradition, the rigorous habit of study. I see it now as a lifestyle classification, not as a caste. This country needs to progress. Let us look for the good in each other.’’ But how may other regions enter the Tamil world? ‘‘I’m meeting them halfway, I want my work translated into Hindi and English,’’ says Vairamuthu resolutely.

But Javed Akhtar chortles, ‘‘Keep the North out! Look at the mess they’ve made of themselves — why contaminate South India?’’