Suresh took up a job with Lintas and opted for a Chennai posting since he was fed up with Bombay. But after he moved there, he had good news to report. He had come across a keyboard whiz who knew his music as well as his technology. He was also open to new ideas and wouldn’t mind doing a bit of experimentation. What’s more, he was willing to invest his talent, free time and studio in helping us with the keyboard programming and drum sequencing to bolster our basic melodies and lyrics. The young man in question was A.R. Rahman, whom the world has come to toast and applaud.
Having collaborated on the songs, I too went to Rahman’s now-famous studio at Kodambakkam, Chennai. Within minutes of meeting the soft-spoken, affable, almost self-effacing young man, one couldn’t but be impressed. He had no airs about him despite being one of most sought-after sessions players in the Tamil film industry. Later, other musicians on the Chennai circuit would speak of how he was one music director who respected artistes and allowed them space to express their own creativity.
But what about our songs? We got as far as the rough cuts and punched in the vocals. Then Suresh and I got busy at our respective offices, and over time our idea of what the songs should sound like underwent changes. The Kodambakkam tapes were shelved. Meanwhile, Roja happened, and the rest is history. Suresh’s wife Shuba later sang for some of Rahman’s film tracks.
On the day of the Oscars, I rang up Suresh, and we reminisced about how this musical genius had helped us with our little experiment. The wholehearted generosity with which Rahman responded to our efforts speaks scoresheets about the kind of man he is.
