Does Thyagaraja need our approval to survive?

IN PERSPECTIVE

When Michael Angelo painted his astonishing vision of the Genesis on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the entire hierarchy of the Vatican abused and hurled insults at him for desecrating the catholic church and the sacred chapel with “shameless, naked and obscene” figures. They advised Pope Julius to tear them down and banish this heretic. When the pope asked him what he had to say to these accusations, Michael Angelo answered “Nothing.” And continued to paint.

I am sure the 18th century composer, Thyagaraja, would have responded in the same way to the recent controversy concerning his accepting alms in the name of Lord Rama. A true artist does not let anything stop his creativity which is an inspired thing, not to be denied.

Michael Angelo was driven by a frenzy when he painted or carved his larger-than-life figures, while every composition of Thyagaraja was an epitome of quiet devotion to his god. The essence of his music was bhakti, which flowed like a peaceful river in his immortal keerthanas. True, it brought him no monetary rewards. He gratefully accepted whatever food that was given to him as “unchavratti,” which was a common practice in his time. Kamal Haasan may have had this in mind when he said that Thyagaraja begged in the name of Rama. In an online conversation with another theatre person, Vijay Sethupathi, he used this example to show how a truly committed artist does not sell his art for fame and money -- both of which Thyagaraja had rejected to live a life of simplicity.

It is surprising that a complimentary remark like this one should provoke such angry reactions from musicians. Haasan is no mean artist. A gifted actor, dancer, filmmaker who has displayed remarkable sensitivity in his own career, why would he try to diminish Thyagaraja? He actually marvelled at the way he pursued his art by discarding wealth and opulence.

“Dadhi navanita kshiramulu ruchiyo, Dasarathi dhyana bhajana sudha rasamu ruchiyo...” speaks eloquently about the bard’s own preferences. When generations of musicians, critics and music lovers have endorsed Thyagaraja’s lifestyle, this controversy reflects a poor understanding of his philosophy that asserted: “Nidhi chala sukhama, Ramuni sannidhi seva sukhama?”

Yet, he was no empty philosopher. He was a singer/composer par excellence. In addition to thousands of keerthanas that he composed, he created two plays with rare krithis set in different ragas and metres. Kamal Haasan, as a filmmaker, would be the first to acknowledge such theatrical skills. As for the bhakti element in his music, it was not empty adoration either. To Thyagaraja, Rama was real. Not merely a god to be worshipped. He did not hesitate to censure Him for not answering his prayers. Sometimes, he scorned Him for His indifference. Then, where is the question of begging in the name of Rama when he was ready to take on his god with anger, contempt or even subterfuge? Look at the way he scoffs at Him when he says His glory is only because he held the hand of Sita: “Ma Janaki chetha pattaga, maharaja vaitivi…”

It has become commonplace today for musicians to act as the moral conscience-keepers of music. This is not the first time that they have denigrated artists for what they think is an insult to the great composers. They exposed their own mediocrity when they attacked eminent artists like OS Arun and Nityashree for singing on Christian themes. Their stupid trolls even made the two artists apologise for their ‘crime’! If TM Krishna chose to sing “theliyaleru Rama bhakti margamunu” in a Jewish synagogue, it did not dilute the sanctity of Thyagaraja’s composition. On the other hand, the beauty of his music was enhanced in that magical space.

So, I sought the views of this singular musician on the ongoing controversy and this is what he wrote:

“In an interview with Vijay Sethupathi, Kamal Haasan was asked to comment on commercial cinema vs art cinema. In this context, he spoke of Thyagaraja singing in praise of Rama while begging on the streets of Thanjavur. He actually placed Thyagaraja on a very high pedestal by stating that unlike artists like himself who want fame and money, Thyagaraja created art for art’s sake, least bothered about his own economic wellbeing.

But the problem was the Tamil word “picchai” that Kamal used to describe Thyagaraja asking for alms. It conjures images of a shabby beggar belonging to the “lower caste”. To see Thyagaraja in that frame is inconceivable for conservative brahmins. If Kamal had used the Sanskrit equivalent “bhiksha,” no one would have objected, because it bestows respect upon the act of begging. The Carnatic music community has displayed its own caste-ridden prejudices by making this an issue and stigmatising people who ask for alms.

Some have even tried to argue that the nuance lies in the difference between “unchavritti” vs “picchai.” While unchavritti is seen as a lofty, selfless, divine service, picchai is simply a lowly act born of despair. The sly attempt to disconnect unchavritti (as practiced by brahmins in bygone days) from alms begging is sheer brahmin arrogance. I must add that historical context, Thyagaraja’s biographies as well as his own kirtanas reveal that he was a person in dire need.”

Carnatic music is at a crossroads today. Whatever direction it may take, great composers like Thyagaraja or Purandara Dasa will remain unchallenged. No slander can hurt them. Nor do they need the approval or validation from their self-styled guardians to retain their place in the archives of music.