Try interrupting Y. G. Mahendran’s play, and he will not mind stopping the play if only to throw you out. I’ve seen this happen once, and always wondered what it’d be like to meet him in person. The meeting finally happened last week, and I realised, one masala chai and a chat session later, that even though he is a man of opinions, he does not force them on the other person—a trait I respect immensely in people. During the conversation, I also recalled how violinist L. Subramaniam, during one of his concerts, spoke about his experience of jamming with Mahendran during their college days. When I asked him about it, he seemed embarrassed. “I used to, during college days, and I am surprised he even remembered,” he said.
Hailing from a culturally rich background, his commitment to art has never been in doubt. While we were gearing up for the shoot, he was so relaxed that he was talking to us about how much trouble he used to get into, during his college days. He also discussed his father, and the many artists who were products of the drama troupe, United Amateur Artists (UAA), started by his father.
He also complained that contemporary film music lacks depth and the melodic value of previous generations, with just a few exceptions. Needless to say, I was curious to hear his thoughts on the music of his nephew, composer Anirudh. He smiled and said, “Anirudh has told me that he will work hard and compose a song in keeping with the calibre I expect of him. He has told me that I should listen to his music only that day.”
