HE’S out of his cocoon. At least until April when the concerts end. ‘‘Then I’ll go back to my producers and into my shell,’’ chuckles India’s most reticent music director.True to his word, there’s an impressive line-up of producers waiting for him to belt out those strains. Shyam Benegal, Atul Agnihotri, Rakesh Mehra, M F Husain, Ahmed Khan, Subhash Ghai and the big one.a Chinese film for Columbia Tristar, which is due for release in May or June.Stripped of all shyness, no one would recognise this avatar — a livewire at the centre of the stage who belts out a guttural O Humdum Suniyo Re from Saathiya. He’s on a different sphere on stage, where music is his axis. Watch him bob up and down on his toes and you feel the rhythm running right up his spine. He rarely looks up from the keys, but one whispered wrong note and his head shoots up in its direction. No loud cracking of the whip for Rahman, the look does it all and the take starts over.What happened to the man who couldn’t find his voice at at an awards function years ago? ‘‘I’ve learnt the importance of presentation from Bombay Dreams. I’ve never been a part of a theatre production and people there don’t expect you to go into hiding.’’Rahman tackles the volley of questions with ease. ‘‘There wasn’t much excitement initially, in fact, Bombay Dreams was booked only for a week. I was nervous about how people would receive it, but it’s been groundbreaking, the music was a revelation when I heard the English lyrics.’’The extravagant production will be travelling to Toronto next. ‘‘It won’t come to India,’’ the ace composer says with a hint of sadness, ‘‘The budget and dates didn’t work out. Anyway we’ve addressed issues such as Dharavi, which may not be as exciting for Mumbai. You can take Bombay to London, but you can’t bring it back to Bombay.’’ In Mumbai, for an AIDS concert organised by the Mukti Foundation, Rahman talks about striking a balance. ‘‘The more you go towards the West, the more you’re rooted in your native music,’’ says the 36-year-old musician.Trashing past criticism which accused him of excessive digitilisation, he says, ‘‘I think ahead of time and have tried to do justice to both electronic and acoustic systems. But it’s easy to pick the shortest way and put down someone’s work by criticism.’’ In the same breath he adds that his music did turn monotonous between ’96 and ’98. ‘‘But the stereotypes vanished with the criticism. I don’t know how,’’ he smiles.The expectations have only increased over the years. Tours, films, non-film albums that complete the circle. Almost. ‘‘But the pace strangles you sometimes because music is no longer just an art. And then I escape.’’The Andrew Lloyd Weber production was one such safety valve. There are more. A pop album for UK-based BMG artiste Karen David, an orchestral album with the Royal Philharmonic and a regional album. ‘‘I wanted to bring Stevie Wonder for the concert, but he’s cracking something new and the budget wasn’t right.’’ Concerts, according to the maestro are excitingbecause they involve fine tuning a whole orchestra to one frequency. ‘‘But I can’t operate the way Weber does — he manages his business and coordinates a million other things. I’d rather be left to my music,’’ says the man who swayed the music scene with Roja in ’92. He looks every bit the crouching tiger, waiting to make yet another leap.
