Farewell, SK Raja

The passing of SK Raja has come as something of a shock. He was one of those people who wear their age lightly (he was 75 but went about with the unfailing cheer of a child), dismiss their illnesses as unworthy of concern, and look at the positive in anything and everything. He was good fun, had a fund of Carnatic musician stories, had heard some of the greatest music possible in his time and yet was appreciative of all that is performed today. That Raja should have taken his farewell of the world that he loved and was so much a part of, is stunning to say the least.

Raja became my friend in the mid 1990s. You know how it is, you repeatedly meet someone in concerts and social occasions and gradually drift into friendship. It is just that I would have let it remain a nodding acquaintance but Raja was not like that. He sought you out and made a friend out of you. And you got drawn into his circle. He was not the kind that demanded anything of you in return. He just liked to be in touch. Every once in a while he would call apropos of nothing, just because he felt like talking to you. And you ended up looking forward to those calls, simply because there was no agenda of any kind.

Raja was Sangita Kalanidhi Aruna Sairam’s brother and husband of this year’s Sangita Kala Acharya awardee Geetha Raja. Being a man of very few wants from life, he beamed with delight when introduced by anyone this way. He was not the typical egoist who would then want his qualifications and job experience listed. But he prided himself, and rightfully so, on how he had grown up in the midst of musical greats.

Raja, Aruna, and for that matter Geetha, grew up in Bombay. His parents Sethuraman and Rajalakshmi kept open house for musicians. The flat was small as Raja often reminisced but his parents had large hearts and so most Carnatic musicians would want to stay with them when they travelled to Bombay. And those were times when such visits lasted weeks, often months on end. The list was eye-popping – Brinda, Mukta, Balasaraswati, TR Mahalingam, Ramnad Krishnan … to name just a few. And Raja, and Aruna, were at hand to listen to their music, run errands for them and observe their mannerisms and quirks up close.

Mali was Raja’s favourite. And perhaps because of his closeness, he viewed Mali Sir as he referred to him, very differently. To him Mali was a genius but he never considered his eccentricities to be the subject of fun. He felt Mali’s problems would have been better understood and handled in today’s scenario. His stories about Mali were unique and often unheard of – such as Mali winning in the Bombay races and each time he was victorious, taking the young Raja to Sher-e-Punjab restaurant for a treat!

There were other stories – of the kind that would make you madly jealous. Of Balasaraswati coming home after a performance asking for pongal and while it was being prepared doing an impromptu recital. Ameer Khan dropping in while this is in progress and the session then getting extended to a few hours, with pongal being served in between.

My favourite Raja story was of how he got admission into engineering college. He had applied to the College of Engg, Guindy and came down from Bombay to attend the interview. He stayed at Balasaraswati’s place. The interview was not a success and he came back quite dejected. Bala saw this at once and asked him what was the matter. He explained it all. She immediately made a call to the Vice Chancellor or the Minister whoever it was. The next morning he was offered admission in Azhagappa Chettiar College of Engg, Karaikudi, from where he graduated later. Raja’s narration of the conversation between Bala and the minister/VC was a gem.

On one occasion we were together at a concert where the violinist was sawing away at the instrument. “Curzon & Co saw mill,” said Raja in my ear. We collapsed laughing. But I was intrigued that a die-hard Bombayite like him knew of this timber facility of Curzon’s which had closed long ago. He then said it was a favourite phrase of Mukta’s.

By the time I got to know Raja, he was happily retired. He listened to a lot of music. He was a happy member of the Madras Youth Choir, which is full of elderly people young at heart. The day before he died, he rehearsed with them. Each summer, he hired a house in Coonoor and invited friends to come over. It is my everlasting regret that I kept putting off till too late. For the record, Raja died in his sleep on Sunday, July 14th. It was perhaps the best exit for him but a huge shock to his circle of family and friends. That he will not be physically present to see his wife receive the Sangita Kala Acharya award is a great disappointment. Nothing could equal his joy when it was announced. Life is sometimes like that.