While Carnatic musician TM Krishna is no stranger to controversy, this year must have been particularly onerous for him, given the year-long dispute over the Sangita Kalanidhi award. In March, when the Madras Music Academy named him as the awardee, many of his fellow musicians declared their intent to boycott the December annual conference during which the award is usually conferred. In August, singer MS Subbulakshmi’s grandson Shrinivasan filed a case in the Madras High Court challenging the award being given in his grandmother’s name. Last week, the court restrained the Hindu Group from using the legendary singer’s name in the award.
It is not TM Krishna’s musical genius that is questioned by those who oppose the decision of the Music Academy. The opposition is geared towards TM Krishna himself. The conservative section of the Brahmin community has banded together in protest against a liberal Brahmin, who is popular for his progressive politics, anti-caste stance, and self-reflexive critique of Brahminism and its hegemony, especially in the field of classical arts.
A short story, Isai Payirchi (translated as The Music Lesson in English) by Tamil writer Thi Janakiraman (1921-82), a Brahmin himself, can be used to understand the feud between conservatives and liberals. Thi Ja, as he is fondly called, through his stories often explored the Brahmin psyche, its complexities, sensibilities, preoccupations, and orthodoxies. The fictionalised world of Isai Payirchi merges with the real world as the events are of a similar nature.
Isai Payirchi (1967) tells the story of Mallikai, a Brahmin music teacher, who is shunned by his agraharam (the Brahmin neighbourhood in a village) when he decides to teach Carnatic music to Kuppandi, a Dalit Christian. Mallikai, the protagonist, on discovering Kuppandi’s natural talent for singing, coerces him into learning Carnatic music despite Kuppandi’s hesitancy due to social norms. Mallikai’s neighbours oppose this decision. They harass him and try to prevent him from conducting the music lesson. Their incessant questions and mockery lead him to falter and rethink his decision. Though Mallikai manages to conduct the first music lesson, the story ends with him dealing with the aftermath. He is seen trembling in fear, gripped by a feeling of loneliness.
The conservative agraharam mobilising itself against a liberal and his efforts to democratise the Brahminical world of Carnatic music has been seen across centuries. More than half a century has gone by, but things for Mallikai and TM Krishna remain the same. Like Mallikai, TM Krishna is met with the disapproval of the conservative block. It rallies against the liberal, tries to isolate him from the community, induces loneliness, and causes mental anguish. It must be noted that while TM Krishna did receive overwhelming support from other quarters, no artist from his own field has extended solidarity publicly. Exclusion from the community is a well-established disciplinary technique employed to coerce the liberal to fit in and play by the rules set by the community. Boycotting the award and filing court cases are acts of intimidation aimed at slowing down TM Krishna’s pace of progressive endeavours. It also serves as a cautionary lesson that instils fear and doubt in others who might follow in his footsteps.
TM Krishna’s efforts to shake up the existing status quo and make Carnatic music accessible are perceived by many conservatives as an attack against their very existence. Their gatekeeping of the high arts arises from the belief that it belongs to them and that inclusion of others would endanger the sanctity of the arts, or the belief that others are not adequately equipped. This sentiment is prevalent in the interviews given by some musicians. Singer Sudha Ragunathan says that only a privileged few have the capacity to understand the complex system that Carnatic music is, interspersing her argument with swaras and sangathis to prove her point. She goes to the extent of using the allegory of a garbhagriha (sanctum) to assert that not everyone has the right to enter it. Going beyond the temple, singers Ranjani and Gayatri take a different route by comparing Carnatic music to the theory of relativity and declare that not everyone is capable of understanding it. It is quite ironic that while making such statements they also deny the existence of casteism.
The same bias is highlighted in Thi Ja’s story. One of Mallikai’s neighbours asks him, “So… you think he [Kuppandi], of all persons, can be taught?” The casteist prejudice that lowered caste people are not intelligent or talented enough has been perpetuated for centuries, leading to unequal opportunities and the sustained dominance of certain castes in almost every field.
Thi Ja’s genius lies in writing a story that transcends the liberal and conservative binary by bringing out in a nuanced manner how the liberal himself is susceptible to casteist ways. While Mallikai’s neighbours are agitated about Kuppandi entering the agraharam, Mallikai has no qualms about it. But the eventual realisation that he would have to invite Kuppandi inside his house for the lesson leaves him perturbed. Mallikai gives in to his own casteist upbringing in the end and conducts the first music lesson in the backyard of his house.
Mallikai’s neighbours mock him by saying that he has “managed to taste the gruel without wetting [his] moustache,” a reversal of the popular Tamil saying:“koozhukum aasai, meesaikum aasai” (You can’t eat the gruel without wetting your moustache). This reinforces their belief that Mallikai, at the end of the day, is not different from them and cannot claim to be progressive.
The conservatives employ a similar play with TM Krishna where they assume that all liberals feel superior and mock them to bring them off their high horses. While responding to Music Academy’s President N Murali’s letter defending TM Krishna and criticising Ranjani and Gayatri, the duo calls out the hypocrisy of the academy itself. They point out that the academy’s stage has always been exclusively Brahmin, as has the leadership. According to them, the academy’s anti-caste stance is mere “lip service,” making TM Krishna’s award a tokenistic attempt. They do not spare TM Krishna as well. In one of their interviews, they question the caste composition of Krishna’s own accompaniment and raise doubts regarding his ability to bring diversity to his usual set of artists.
When Mallikai is teased about his unwillingness to invite Kuppandi inside his house, he furiously defends himself by promising to conduct the next day’s lesson in his house. The story doesn’t disclose the events of the next day and ends with Mallikai’s internal tribulations. The readers dare not hope that Mallikai will muster enough courage to transcend caste boundaries and follow through on his promise.
Thi Ja could very well have been living in our times and drawing inspiration from current events. In the story, we have some non-Brahmin onlookers who observe the music lesson from a distance. They merely serve as silent spectators, whereas, conceived as an ideological battle, the non-Brahmin community has been vocal in its support for TM Krishna, including Tamil Nadu Chief Minister Stalin and MP Kanimozhi. TM Krishna was also awarded an honorary Doctor of Letters degree by the Periyar Maniammai Institute of Science and Technology in October.
The overwhelming support that TM Krishna received from non-Brahmin quarters indicates a positive change. But how much of a difference does it actually make? The Brahminical world of Carnatic music has retained its power by keeping it a close-knit community, which remains insular and fenced off to outsiders. Even after half a century, the non-Brahmin onlookers in the story, despite becoming vocal, retain their status of being mere spectators.
TM Krishna is one of the few people in our times who acknowledges his caste privilege and uses it to create an egalitarian society. For Kuppandi to enter the agraharam and sit on the Music Academy’s stage, we need more people like TM Krishna and Mallikai to walk unfettered. It is easier when someone from the inside opens the door. For once.
Aazhi is a research scholar in the Department of English at Stella Maris College, Chennai. Views expressed are the author’s own.