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Raghavendra Rao

His smile and laughter echoed and displayed his love for life. He enchanted the world of music. It is strange that the honours skipped him, and that the world he loved, did not give him much.

...What sparks they are... the mellow fullness of Balasaraswati, the radiance of Subbulakshami, the gentle effulgence of Pattammal, flame like glance of Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, or the laughter of M.D. Ramanathan...

— A saga of encounters

Faces — a visual that discovers a person and belongs to the vibration that lies hidden within. It is a creation of a moment infused with a sense of surrender and seeking.

Year 1979. Working for the Indian Express, I had the privilege of doing a series "Masters remembered" along with Radha Sarma, in which Balasaraswati had talked about her grandmother Veena Dhanammal, M.D. Ramanathan about the great Tiger Varadachariar, K.V. Narayanaswamy about Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar and T.V. Gopalakrishnan about Chembai and glimpses of Mysore Vasudevacharya, Rajamanickyam Pillai. Names I had only heard of before, brought so close by Radha who put into focus a vibrant sensitivity. What a period of learning it was! My camera hugged me close. We grew to love the moments of recall by the disciples of the great masters.

His music, his regard for his master Tiger and his sense of humour made me cling to the moments spent with M.D. Ramanathan (M.D.R). One evening that extended to late night, my friend Vasudev (well-known artist) and I sat totally enthralled as the vibrant music of M.D.R filled the soul and beyond. I pulled out pictures of M.D.R. and placed them in front of the music system. We felt he was there and he was singing for us!

Vasudev visualises a show of photographs and his paintings of M.D.R. The suggestion, naturally, thrills me.

He then suggests that we invite him for an evening of music at Cholamandal Artists Village, on the East Coast Road and on the outskirts of Chennai.

Next day, I set out to see M.D.R, both anxious and hopeful. I knew he was a simple, gentle soul and a person abundantly blessed by Goddess Saraswati, but somewhere Lakshmi had withheld what was his due. Did he worry? No. To him, music was everything and his Guru Tiger Varadachariar, the very embodiment of the universe. (Can you imagine, he would practice before the mirror for hours, to get that squint of the eye to be just like that of his guru! And as for the music, he would always say, "Where am I before my master?").

He opens the door with a warm smile and asks, "What brings the camera home?"

I remember saying, "To take you to its home, Sir." A full throated laughter and he asks, "Why me?"

"The artists of Cholamandal are eager/keen to listen to your music. They would love to have you amidst them."

"When do you want me to come?"

"Any day suitable to you, Sir."

"But you say they are artists."

"Yes."

"But these artists, like some of us, do not make much money. Right?"

"In a way, yes. But they very much want you to come."

"I do not want to put them to any difficulty. I will certainly come. But then, they may have to pay the accompanying artists. Do you think they could pay them some five hundred rupees?"

I was taken aback. Such a great musician, so highly rated and loved by thousands of rasikas, just asking for a modest sum for co-artists and nothing for himself!

I managed to say, "Yes, Sir. It would be a great honour to have you and certainly the artists would not mind any expenditure". And hesitantly, I asked, "Is there something we could do for you, Sir?"

A smile, and he asks, "You say that is a village. They have cows in there, right?"

Surprised, I say, "Yes."

"Then do one thing. Place a jug of hot milk, cow's milk... and Horlicks, by my side."

I was not sure he really meant it. However, I said, "Certainly, Sir. Is there something else we could do?"

M.D.R had a mischievous smile, "Anything else? Oh, yes, I forgot to mention. Keep some crystal sugar (kalkandu) too."

Sitting close by was his young son, listening to our conversation. Suddenly he turns around and asks, "Appa, I want ice cream."

I went and hugged the child, "Of course, yes."

That smile had not vanished. Said the father, "Keep a towel ready. I will have to wash his face!"

An hour with M.D.R on that magical evening in the amphitheatre of Cholamandal, I will never forget.

His music/his voice will remain forever. Like guru, like sishya.

His smile and laughter echoed and displayed his love for life. He enchanted the world of music. It is strange that the honours skipped him. In fact, the world he loved did not give him much. His deep-throated vilamba, his thrust on sahitya, bhava and laya is a rich heritage he has left behind.

On M.D.R bidding farewell to this world, Sri Semmangudi had this to say: "Music world has lost a MAN'S voice."

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