The M.S. Subbulakshmi’s centenary events have happened all over the country and even outside, remembering the iconic figure of Indian music. In recent times, there was M.S. everywhere.
The M.S. Subbulakshmi’s centenary events have happened all over the country and even outside, remembering the iconic figure of Indian music. In recent times, there was M.S. everywhere. If there was a figure in music, revered, remembered and immortalised like none other, it is M.S. I grew up listening to her music, attending her concerts and hearing about her. She was already a legend in the seventies and eighties as I diligently attended every concert I could with my parents. I remember the euphoria, of everyone whispering that The M.S. concert was happening. I never knew M.S. personally, but I must share what impact she left upon me.
I knew her from a distance. I knew her as a rasika, I knew her as a listener watching from the other side of the stage. She had one of the most mellifluous voices ever. Everything that she sang had a charm about it that was difficult to critique. Even in my child’s mind, she appeared with a halo and was mesmerising. That quality stemmed from her own musical ingenuity and sweetness of song. Just to put it simply, I liked her music and always felt like listening to more of it. The many series of songs she popularised still resound clear and true. She had a phenomenal stage presence — pleasant, alluring and devoid of anything flashy or garish. She was a natural. Quite naturally, she slid into that slot of the legend that is not given to all. She charmed other greats like the Mahatma with her undying songs. She sang for the sake of music, for herself, for just causes, for humanity. Even before we started paying attention to sartorial elegance on stage, M.S. epitomised all that with her glittering diamonds, emblematic sarees and her own distinct style of being — all imitated, plagiarised over and over again but to no avail. Because fortunately we have not yet learnt to duplicate human beings. There can be only one of each of us. And M.S. was herself. She surely may have had her foibles, a side less palatable than what we saw or heard, for she was no divinity but one like all of us. But I only heard and perceived her objectively, because my connect lay just with the music. The M.S. I knew from the outside was outstanding. In this case, the persona remained at the same level with the music and that is why I still enjoy listening to M.S. In a world where everything is mixed, mashed and confused, one cannot always be objective about one’s judgment. Knowing M.S. from her music alone gave me that privilege and I am grateful for that.
Having said that, the legend’s space amongst women in Indian classical music is occupied by M.S. undisputably. We try to remember her through many ways. Including statues. Most of them are regrettable and are an apology of the finesse and grace that M.S. represented. Hoisted atop ungainly pedestals, tastelessly chosen colours and shabbily executed. Why In a land of pristine art and creativity, our sense of aesthetics is often missing in the current day. I have lamented about it in the past and it is surely lamentable. Just like the wires that run across the tambura on her giant statue in Tirupati. This ironic urge to deify and to nullify simultaneously, first through poorly commissioned works and second through disdain makes the sanctity and sincerity of such efforts questionable.
On a pleasant Sunday morning drive in South Mumbai, I paused again as I have several times before to admire the pre-independance era solid, elegant stone structures that dot the city and some of the most wonderful statues erected in this part of town. Some brilliant examples of architecture and sculpture, though not always maintained, still remain in the city that never sleeps.
Dr Vasumathi Badrinathan is an eminent Carnatic vocalist based in Mumbai. She can be contacted on vasu@vasumathi.net
