
Bharat Ratna M.S. Subbulakshmi’s has been a life and a music of liberation. It may not appear so at first sight. But this octogenarian musician, clad in ultra-traditional attire and who appears a picture of conservative propriety, has been a revolutionary in many ways. Preceded by her mother, veena virtuoso Dhanammal, she became part of a socio-cultural movement for emancipation, the first of the feminine voices in Carnatic concert music. She was followed by others like purist D.K. Pattammal, the brilliant N.C. Vasanthakokilam, whose life was so tragically cut short, and M.L. Vasanthakumari, but Subbulakshmi’s mellifluous strains have never faded away in the 60 years that she has been singing publicly. She was also among the few who strove to free southern classical music from the conventions and constraints that had rendered it obscure for the millions. This she did in many ways, but largely by attaching importance to diction. Unlike her peers, she realised that the greatness of music often lay in the words that were set to music. While this helped to give Tamil its due place in Carnatic music, it also made her renditions in other languages something of a rediscovery for rapt listeners. Besides, her rare emotional expressiveness helped further in popularising her classical oeuvre. Indeed, the bhava, or feeling, she put into her singing made it akin to bhakti poetry in its unaffected, unrestrained spontaneity.
When India’s highest civilian honour was awarded posthumously to former Chief Minister M.G. Ramachandran some years ago, it created an instant controversy. The present award, in contrast, strikes a chord of approval across the country. It does this because it symbolises a hope, however slender, that music can help to save the nation’s soul, even in these trying times when moral bankruptcy stares it in the face. That M.S. Subbulakshmi can achieve this is an everlasting tribute to the magic of her music.