Every chilly morning in December, Rukmini Ramani is on the streets of Mylapore, leading a group of music enthusiasts. They go around the famous Mylapore mada veedhis, singing bhajans and kritis in praise of the lord.
Since she was five, Rukmini has been a part of this. And, now, she is 75.
Daughter of legendary singer-composer Papanasam Sivan, who pioneered veedhi bhajan singing in Mylapore, Rukmini’s tryst with music was from the day she was born. “I started going out on the streets for bhajans when I was barely five — thukindu poirukaenna (they’ve carried me on their shoulders)… I don’t remember that very clearly now,” she says almost apologetically.
Cut to 2015, she’ll be doing the same. But now, she’s leading the pack.
The Tamil month of Margazhi, which is just about to commence, is special to Chennai in many ways. It will see music, not just in all the leading sabhas, but on the streets as well. Starting as early as 5 a.m., a group, led by Rukmini, will embark on a short journey through the veedhis, stopping at many places to sing even as ladies keep themselves busy, drawing elaborate kolams and men sipping hot filter kaapi.
“The bhajan concept has changed over the years,” says Rukmini, “At that time, crowds used to flock the streets to join us. But now, there are just a few people, and even they want to wrap up by 7 a.m. to get to work.” But in the hour-and-a-half that they get, the air is filled with devotional songs set to tune in Carnatic ragas. The popular Thyagaraja and Muthuswami Dikshitar kritis also find a place; so do the Thiruppaavai and Thiruvampavai… as well as songs composed by her father.
“Appa was a big draw in those days,” she says, “While his Mylapore bhajans are remembered even today, I vividly recall a few years when we visited Thiruvaiyaru and its neighbouring villages. That must be around 1955-1956. People from all the villages would gather for the songs — ‘Sivan Bhajanai’ as they would call it then — and bask in religious fervour.”
The charm of such street concerts, she says, is that it has no instrument accompaniments. “They’re free to join us. When you sing in a normal sabha, you have to allot time for their thani avarthanam. Here, the emphasis is on singing your heart out and giving a chance to everybody who joins us.”
She urges music lovers to attend such street concerts. “The basic point that any bhajanai goshti strives for is reciprocation. We need a lot of people to listen to the chant and repeat it so that the bhajans are more musical.”
It’s not just in Mylapore that you can bask in the warmth of bhajans — there are other localities in the city that have groups hosting such concerts. The only common link is that they all begin as early as 5 a.m..
“Yes, it is tough for people who’re old,” she says. “Sometimes, it rains too. When that happens, we just stand in a mandapam near the Kapaleeshwarar Temple and sing.” Refreshments are available at times, with regular rasikas bringing milk in flasks for the singers. “Science tells us that the morning oxygen is pure and very good for health. And when you get to experience that with some nice Carnatic songs, the bliss you experience is ultimate,” she describes.
The crowds might have dwindled, but Rukmini plans to carry on till her health permits. “I’m 75 and have shifted from Mylapore to West Mambalam now,” she says. “But we’ll continue this tradition. My appa once said, ‘only bhajanais can save us.’ I’m trying to follow that.”
