From the Archives . .
I don’t know where to start. And I am sure there would be no ending. People follow music religiously. It is tough to tag it as a ‘hobby’ anymore. It almost defines the kind of person you are. Only a few end up taking up music as a profession & make a living out of it. Others have to be content with just listen to music. Their tastes differ. It differs as much as the lines in the palm do. You will find people sitting down on the floor to listen to a “kutchery”, tapping their thigh with the beats. Or, you will find them banging their heads in a rock concert. I remember from school a friend of mine who used to listen only to Christian devotional songs. And there also are people who would listen to anything that come their way. But there is a set of people who take one man’s music seriously. And when it comes to listening to that man’s composition, they would leave aside everything else. These people would dedicate their lives for one cause – being a Rahmaniac. There is only one religion that they follow – Rahman’s music. They call him “Boss”. And no points for guessing who their God is. I know, it is crazy calling a human being God. But then to each his/her own God. I belong to this cult too.
The amount of pride these people take in being a Rahmaniac is bewildering. They would have first hand information of his compositions. What movies he has signed, where his next concert is, what song is coming next. They researching deep into each one of his compositions – it’s almost dutiful. Following Rahman in his concerts, buying original CDs on the first day of music release, posting their thoughts in various groups, meeting up fellow Rahmaniacs and discussing only and only his music comes to them instinctively. It is mighty hard for them to accept that any Rahman composition can be “ordinary”. Ask them what the one thing is that you want to do in life”. The answer would be simple –Meet the man! Some would have a secret ambition of singing for him. I would not go mad about getting his autograph or getting a photo clicked with him (Even though it would give me 10000 likes on my facebook profile pic!). If ever that moment is to come, I would just like to say ‘Thank You’ to him. For all the music he has given us and the ones he is going to.
One of the things you would notice about rahmaniacs is all of them would have their status message reflecting his song names/movie names etc. It is not to show off their craziness. They do not know any other way in which they can express the happiness, bliss, eternal satisfaction they feel while listening to his album. And the pleasure you get when you play the CD for the first time, is unmatched. The CD would be played in loop. And on each round of listening, the music grows on you. Slow nectar, they call it. There are other songs/compositions too which would be like cocaine – would shoot up to the brain straight. These people need no drugs to follow the music. His music in itself would take the effect.
So what is bringing out this huge outpour of emotions into words? The Oscars? His being the ambassador for Indian music? I guess not. Something better has happened over the years. For me it started with a song called Chaiyya Chaiyya. It made me realize that music could be the only way to salvation. I could go on to make a list of songs, but then it will include most of his compositions – from Roja to Rockstar. But once I heard Arziyan. Life had a new meaning to it. People say you have to die to go to heaven. I tell them I have been their atleast a thousand times – each time I hear Arziyan. And by the time the harmonica of “Tango” from Passage faded, the Guitar strums struck me. Aaromale was a word I had never used till then. It might be the word I have used the most, now. As always, I am happily waiting for the next one now. Like I said, I do not have a concluding paragraph for this write up. I thank God, the real one, for having had me live in this era – The era in which A.R.Rahman lived.
And to Boss all I would quote a line from his own song - “Un isai mattum illayendral naan endro endro irandiruppen”
Vinod R Iyer