Following Dikshitar to Iyermalai

The start of the ascent – Iyermalai

I stand at the base of the Iyermalai (aka Vaatpokki) at 9 a.m. At the summit I can see a rock fort akin to the more famous one at Tiruchi. A song and an artist’s rendition of it have brought me here – Muthuswami Dikshitar’s ‘Pahimam Ratnachalanayaka’ (Mukhari) and Musiri Subramania Iyer’s recording of the same. It is a jewel of a song, and after listening to it being sung by the master of emotion I had to visit the temple that had inspired it. A friend, whose native place is Iyermalai, has promised me that a priest will meet me at the top of the hill. But what I did not know was that several ferocious monkeys would be scrambling up and down the pathway.

The climb is steep and the sight of two monkeys fighting ferociously like Vali and Sugriva has me running back to the base. I join a group of pilgrims who are amused at my cowardice. The climb of 1,000 steps is difficult but the views are picturesque, especially that of the village and the large temple tank. I am told that in a year with plentiful rains, the greenery around can be breathtaking. A large rock is split into two owing to natural reasons near the summit and in the shadow of the two pieces is an open-air shrine for the Sapta Matas with a Ganesa keeping them company. Opposite this is a stone seat in the shadow of another giant rock. Could Dikshitar have sat here?

More monkeys greet us inside the shrine proper. The Goddess, Aralakesi (Surumbar Kuzhali) has a tiny shrine to herself outside the main temple. We then enter a mandapam with 100 pillars, one wall of which is the hill itself. The temperature drops abruptly and the coolness is welcome. A Nandi faces a wall and around it are the 63 Nayanmars. We cross this mandapam and again are in the open. Then follows a small climb and we are finally at the temple for Siva – Ratnagiriswara. The Lord resides here in solitary splendour, a guardian deity – Vairaperumal being his sole companion. The Linga is tall and has a prominent scar at the top, the result of a king having cut it with a sword. The silence is deafening and as we prostrate, me mumbling Dikshitar’s song, we know we are in the presence of God in all his magnificence. Perhaps it is appropriate that the monkeys made us reach the sanctum empty-handed for what could we have offered other than prayer?

Flooded with inscriptions

The temple would be an epigraphist’s delight, for the walls are flooded with inscriptions. After the worship, I talk to the priest. Muthuswami Dikshitar in his song writes that it is the temple tradition that a member of the Aryaraja community brings water everyday from the River Cauvery for anointing the deity. What happened to it? I am stunned to know that it is still in vogue. This involves someone going to the river, which is eight km away, carrying the water all the way, climbing up the hill and finally emptying it into a large cauldron kept beside the Linga. The priest adds that Appar’s Pathigam on the temple also records the same tradition. I am humbled to know that the locals have kept alive a practice going back to the seventh century. “Why did Dikshitar write that the Linga is in the form of the Sri Chakra,”? I ask. Apparently, Iyermalai is in the form of the Sri Chakra, it being considered an earthly representation of the sacred Meru, and the Linga is a natural outcrop of the hill.

The priest informs me that all the temple festivals are held at the village and so the processional deities are taken down each time and brought up. What with the bringing of water and the carrying of the deities, worshipping at Iyermalai demands a high degree of physical fitness. The priest could have given all our gym-trained urbanites a run for their money.

Iyermalai is one of a sacred triad of Siva temples, along what is known as the Akhanda Cauvery and all an hour from Tiruchi. Tradition demands that we worship Kadambeswara at Kulithalai in the morning, Ratnagiriswara at Iyermalai in the afternoon and Marakadachaleswara at Tiringoimalai (another hill top shrine). Dikshitar composed on all three. Songs on the first two (‘Neelakantam’ in Kedaragowla and ‘Pahimam Ratnachalanayaka’ in Mukhari) are in Subbarama Dikshitar’s Sangita Sampradaya Pradarsini while ‘Marakatalingam’ in Vasanta is not.

As I begin my descent, I think of the piety that brought Appar and Dikshitar to this lonely spot. What about the sculptors who gave the temple its shape? And then I reflect on the stern resolve with which the locals keep their traditions going. I am moved to tears.

Also see More pics from Iyermalai

Where Ariyakkudi sang for idlis

Musiri at PSS with RK Venkatarama Sastry violin and Nagercoil Ganesa Iyer mridangam

Among the vintage concert recordings that abound, there are at least three where the performance is pierced by a shrill whistle. Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar must have clearly given instructions for a complete halt when that happens, for next we hear the huffing and puffing of a railway train. The concert resumes once the train recedes into the distance. In a Musiri Subramania Iyer concert, the whistle is aligned completely to his high pitch. And in a Mali concert, he imitates the whistle on his flute, much to the amusement of the audience.

A concert interrupted by a whistle invariably meant a performance at the Perambur Sangeetha Sabha (PSS), one of the veteran music organisations in North Chennai. In fact, it is one of only two survivors from what was once the very hub of Carnatic Music, the other one being the Tamil Isai Sangam.

Perambur owed its growth essentially to the railways and the nearby industrial areas; the composition of its population therefore being middle and lower middle class. Those interested in the arts had to travel to distant George Town, Triplicane or Mylapore. The Perambur Sangeetha Sabha was therefore founded in 1933, to bring the arts closer home. The organisation’s live wire was S.G. Subramania Iyer, its secretary and the venue of its concerts was the historic Dharmamurthy Rao Bahadur Calavala Cunnan Chetty High School just off what is now the Gandhi Park.

The settings were simple to the extreme, a thatch shelter being the best that the Sabha could afford, but such was the deep knowledge of music of its members that artists from all over South India considered it an honour to perform under its auspices. Soon making a mark at the PSS was as important as creating an impact on the aristocratic Mylapore venues.

In 1950, the Sabha was to render what can be considered its greatest contribution to Carnatic music. It brought the veteran vainika Karaikkudi Sambasiva Iyer from Tirugokarnam to Madras. This was thanks to Subramania Iyer and his son S. Sethuraman, who was to succeed the former as Secretary of the PSS. Thanks to this, Madras and the larger cultural world came to know of the great artist.

Sambasiva Iyer moved to Perambur and became the President of the PSS. This was to greatly enhance the Sabha’s stature. The presence of the greatly revered figure was to bring several artistes to perform in Perambur. Among those who came was Mysore Vasudevachar, then in his eighties. Another artist who became a regular was Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar. Sambasiva Iyer would make it a point to attend all the concerts and if an artiste particularly impressed him, he would make a speech at the end of the performance. One among these was M.S. Subbulakshmi about whom Sambasiva Iyer remarked that she carried the veena in her throat.

In 1952, Sethuraman and other members of the PSS were to convince Sambasiva Iyer to accept the President’s (now the Sangeet Natak Akademi) award, in the year of its inception. Arrangements were made for the party to break journey en-route to Delhi so that Iyer’s daily worship would not be disrupted. In Delhi, Sambasiva Iyer was convinced to record for AIR. It was a first for Iyer and a major achievement for the radio. Sambasiva Iyer was to remain president of the PSS till 1954 when he moved over to Kalakshetra. Dr. K.N. Karunakaran, leading physician of the area, succeeded him to the post.

Such was the reputation of the PSS for providing the best music that people from all over the city would attend its concerts. The PSS was known to be ever in dire straits financially and it was only the persuasive skill of Sethuraman and the love of the local audience that kept bringing the artistes back. The erratic Mali was known to beg for concert opportunities here and be on his best behaviour while performing. On one occasion Ariyakkudi was greeted by Sethuraman with a packet of idlis. Rather taken aback Ariyakkudi asked as to what it meant whereupon Sethuraman burst into tears and said that that was the remuneration. Ariyakkudi in his witty fashion wondered why Sethuraman was shedding tears, when it was he, Ariyakkudi, who ought to be doing so for having to sing for a mere packet of idlis!

Sankaralayam, Perambur

Times have changed and so has the arts scenario. But what is heartening is that the Sabha still functions, from Sankaralayam on Meenakshi Street. Run by local aficionados, it provides a platform for young talent. Its platinum jubilee was celebrated a few years ago and the Tyagaraja Aradhana is a regular feature. It is organisations like this that keep the flag of Carnatic music flying.
This article appeared in the Hindu’s Friday Features dated 14th December 2012

Remembering Musiri

For some reason, he is stuck in my head from this morning. Perhaps because I listened yesterday to his singing Dikshitar’s pAhi mAm ratnAchala (mukhAri)

I have therefore fished out this sleeve note I wrote long ago for Charsur:

Musiri Subramania Iyer

- The human face of bhava

It is not often the fortune of an artiste to draw tears from listeners’ eyes, even as he or she performs. But to endow even replays and recordings with such an ability, is almost an impossibility. Musiri Subramanya Iyer, or simply Musiri as he was called, had perfected this art to such an extent that till date his feats in bhava, especially in neraval, (an imaginative exposition of lyrics, within the limits set by Raga and Tala) have never been matched.

The voice was high for a man. In his youth, it was even higher (F Sharp) and as he aged, it did drop to D Sharp, but the high voice, in complete unison with the drone of the tanpura, created a mesmeric effect, often likened to a bee flitting about in garden of music in springtime. The body was often frail, but it scaled Himalayan heights when it came to musical tourneys. The combination spelt dignity, a dignity of art, of accomplishment and achievement, from which he never lowered himself. Ayyarval (respected one), he was called and he remained true to that name till the very end.

Subramanya Iyer was born on 9th April, 1899 to Sankara Sastry, a Sanskrit Pandit and his wife Seethalakshmi, at Bommalapalayam Village, Trichy District. Whether he had formal schooling in the three R’s is a matter of debate, but the fact remains that he was an erudite and scholarly speaker and writer in the English language, one of the earliest Carnatic Musicians to have that capability. An ardent admiration for Charles Dickens was his hallmark, amidst a variety of reading interests.

In music, he came under the spell of SG Kittappa, the singing stage star, like many of his generation. In fact his usage of a high pitch is attributed by many to this. This admiration, added to a musical disposition, led him to begin learning music at the age of 17 from S Narayanaswamy Iyer, a music teacher in the princely state of Pudukottah. Three years later he apprenticed himself with Sangita Kalanidhi Karur Chinnaswami Iyah, the ace violinist, of the Garbhapuri family and Guru to many stars in the Carnatic firmament. At Chinnaswami Iyah’s own suggestion, he moved to Madras and sought the tutelage of Sangita Kalanidhi TS Sabhesa Iyer, a vocalist par excellence and a disciple of Maha Vaidyanatha Iyer himself. For nine years, Subramanya Iyer was to learn from Sabhesa Iyer, a period which saw him absorb his Guru’s greatest asset – an incomparable style of rendering neraval.

In 1920, Subramanya Iyer made his debut at a Sabha in Triplicane, Madras. It was then the practice for most artistes to prefix their village names to their own and the Sabha organizers, perhaps thinking that Bommalapalayam did not sound impressive, announced his name as Musiri Subramanya Iyer. And that was how he came to be known for the rest of his life. This is one of many similar versions, but the name stuck. His career took off in the right direction and he was soon famous. Crowds flocked to hear his emotion packed renditions of such songs as “Tiruvadi Charanam”, “ Nagumomu”, “Entavetukondu”, “Viritta senjadai” and “Pahi Ramachandra”. He left an indelible stamp on them, causing audiences to judge any other artistes rendition of these as inferior. His fame further grew with the introduction of 78 rpm gramophone records, for which industry he was a money spinner.

In 1932, he undertook a visit to the Federated Malay States (then including Singapore), Burma and Ceylon, for raising funds for the Sri Ramakrishna Mission. It was a brave decision in times when it was taboo to “cross the waters” and his impressions of that visit, as written by him are a touching memoir. In 1937, Musiri was invited to act as Tukaram in the film of the same name, produced by business magnates of Coimbatore. Though the film was not a commercial success, its songs were very well received and Musiri added some more emotion packed pieces to his repertoire. His health however received a setback at around this time and he was to remain a victim of lung trouble till his very end.

Till the mid forties, he was a busy concert artiste. The great concert Halls of Carnatic Music, such as the 100 pillared hall, Rockfort, Trichy, the Gokhale Hall, Armenian Street, Madras and the Nellai Sangeetha Sabha, echoed to his voice as thousands gathered to hear. It is said that when he rendered Taye Yashoda or Teyilai Tottatile , there would not be a dry eye in the audience. Packed with bhava, he alone amongst his peers had the magic of portraying multiple emotions in a single line of a song, while still remaining within the contours of a raga. Who could forget the way he interpreted the line beginning “gagana” in Nagumomu?

He was a pioneer in bringing dignity to music as a profession. He broke the superior patron – beseeching musician scheme of things and moved among his admirers as their social equal and not someone to be called and made to perform at will. Senior advocates, lawyers, judges, business magnates and ICS and IAS officers were all his friends, who sought his company for his art and also for the person he was. The former Under Secretary General of the United Nations, CV Narasimhan was his disciple. He was all for dignity as a performing musician. His social graces, his clean lifestyle, the high standard of his English all added to his image.

Many were the honours that came his way. In 1939, he became Sangita Kalanidhi, one of the youngest in terms of age, ever to have got the Music Academy’s prestigious title. In 1963, the Tamil Isai Sangam awarded him the title Isai Perarignar. In 1957, he was given the Sangeeta Nataka Akademi award and in 1968, its fellowship. From 1939, he involved himself in the Tyaga Brahma Mahotsava Sabha, one of the three bodies that govern the worship at Tyagaraja’s Samadhi in Tiruvayyaru. He was also Asthana Vidwan of the erstwhile princely state of Travancore.

In 1949, the Central College of Music, now located at Brodie’s Castle, Madras, was inaugurated and Musiri was appointed its first principal. He came into his own as a tutor and administrator and given his popularity in the field, used his good offices in recruiting some of the very best talent as part of the teaching faculty. With his felicity with language and his experience as a teacher, he was able to bring out the best in his students. Some of the lecture demonstrations that he has given, when heard on tape now, show that he had a sense of humour, that like him was dignified and yet pointed. His simple and lucid explanations on tricky aspects of Raga and Tala, are valuable treatises in today’s environment. Musiri retired from this assignment in 1965.

Musiri was married to Nagalakshmi at the age of 14. They were childless, but lavished their love on an extended family, that comprised near and distant relatives, fellow musicians, aspirants and sishyas. He led a contented and happy life, in the then sylvan surroundings of Oliver Road, Mylapore. He had bought a house there in the 1930s and this is where some of his students such as KS Venkataraman, Sangita Kalanidhis TK Govinda Rao and Mani Krishnaswamy, Smt Suguna Purushottaman and Smt Suguna Varadachari, came to be tutored by him till his demise. He passed away, after a lifetime of achievement, on 24th March, 1975. As a singular token of respect, the road where his house is located is now named after him. A fitting honour for a musician of superlative talent and rare class.

Navaratri Concerts at the RK Mutt

This was written last year and published in Sruti magazine

An enjoyable concert of Sanjay Subrahmanyan was drawing to a close at the vast Swami Vivekananda Centenary Hall of the Ramakrishna Students Home in Mylapore. It was part of the Navaratri series. In attendance was a huge audience, which included students of the home, several monks of the Ramakrishna Order and the music-loving public. It struck me that what I was witnessing was part of a great Mylapore tradition, for the Navaratri series at the Ramakrishna Mission goes back to the 1920s. The portrait of C Ramanujachari, the man who initiated it, hangs rather appropriately by the side of the stage, facing the audience. He would have been delighted with the series, for the man loved music and theatre.

The Home moved into its present premises in 1921 and ever since then, it became customary to host concerts during Navaratri. It would be relevant to point out here that music has always been an integral part of the Ramakrishna Order. Sri Ramakrishna was greatly moved by music and would frequently go into Samadhi while it was being performed. Swami Vivekananda was a good singer himself. Music is a part of the worship at the headquarters in Belur Math and the evening arati in particular is musically most moving.

C Ramanujachariar was a senior bureaucrat, having begun life as a clerk in the Madras Secretariat and risen to the level of Under Secretary, Department of Law and Education. He was also very knowledgeable in Carnatic music. Such a combination meant that any concert series organised by him could count on Carnatic stars and members of the higher echelons of society participating in it. The Navaratri series, begun in 1921, became a high-profile event from its first year. All the big names of Carnatic music – Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar, Maharajapuram Viswanatha Iyer, Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavatar, Palladam Sanjeeva Rao and later Musiri Subramania Iyer, Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer, GN Balasubramaniam and Madurai Mani Iyer, performed at the Home. This was not a benefit series for no tickets were sold or funds collected. Musicians were not given anything beyond the proverbial thengamoodi, but the presence of Ramanujachariar and the sheer atmosphere of the Home made up for everything. In a way it also served a beneficial purpose for the Home. There were not many Sabhas in Mylapore in the early 1920s and the residents of the upper-class area were starved of music. Several came to listen and also, by the way, came to know of the Home and the good work it was doing. The lawyer ND Varadachariar who was an indefatigable diarist has noted thus on September 23rd, 1925 – “In the night, to Sri Ramakrishna Students’ Home for Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar’s vocal, Parur Sundaram violin, Dakshinamurthy mridangam. A good performance”.

Concerts were initially held in the Nattukottai Nagarathar building remember old-timers. The Nagarathar Building could accommodate a vast number and once during an Ariyakkudi concert some youngsters decided to have fun at the expense of the musicians by making a hissing noise repeatedly while the music was in progress. Ariyakkudi stopped singing and made an announcement. “This is the Ramakrishna Mission,” he said. “I expect people who come here to observe due decorum at such a place”. That had its effect and the rest of the concert was heard in peace.Later, when the Vivekananda College came up in that premises, the concerts were shifted to the Abdul Hakim Ward, one of the several dormitories in the Home and named after the donor who made the construction possible. The Abdul Hakim ward had a problem. It could accommodate only about 40-50 people. Loudspeaker arrangements were therefore made whenever a star was performing and people would congregate in the open spaces around the building and listen to the performance.

Several are the stories recollected about concerts at the Abdul Hakim Ward. People remember Ariyakkudi with fondness. His fraternal affection and admiration for the Harikatha artiste C Saraswathi Bai was well-known and she was a regular at the Home too. It was said that the audience would be jubilant if she was among the attendees at an Ariyakkudi concert for he would then take extra care to ensure that his performance was a success. She, on her part, according to her nephew, would not hesitate by means of a sign language that the two understood, express her appreciation or disapproval of his performance. It was a kind of live feedback that went on all the time.

Once, Maharajapuram Viswanatha Iyer was late for a performance. C Ramanujachariar was a stickler for punctuality and noticing the young GNB in the audience he commanded him to get on to stage. Viswanatha Iyer arrived just as the first song was completed. GNB offered to vacate the stage but Ramanujachariar would have none of it. He rather indifferently informed Viswanatha Iyer that everything being well, he could perform the next year. The next Navaratri, Maharajapuram practically camped on the premises. It was GNB concert and when the artiste began, his throat was found to be in poor form. Ramanujachariar, with GNB’s permission, requested Viswanatha Iyer to take over. The latter gleefully did so. It was a kind of poetic justice.

Old-timers recall that Musiri Subramania Iyer was practically adopted by the Home in the sense that Ramanujachariar could ask him to sing at any time. It also perhaps helped that Musiri lived within calling distance. A concert of Musiri’s at the Home was apparently converted into an exposition of raga alapanas by Karaikkudi Sambasiva Iyer who, seated in the audience repeatedly requested for one raga after another. Musiri was also roped in by Ramanujachariar to go to Malaysia for a series of fund-raising concerts for the benefit of the Home . In 1936, Lord Erskine, the then Governor of Madras visited the Home and Musiri was asked to sing the prayer. This was held in the prayer-hall of the Home and those present remember that Musiri sang a shloka in Anandabhairavi and the Governor stood throughout. He was also sensitive enough to remove his shoes at the entrance.

Another regular at the Home, both as a member of the audience and also as performer, was Madurai Mani Iyer. He, like Musiri, lived a stone’s throw away. Once Mani Iyer was performing at the Abdul Hakim Ward and as 9.00 pm approached, several people began leaving. The maestro was losing his vision by then and could not see this. TS Vembu Iyer, Mani Iyer’s companion and vocal accompanist whispered to him that the concert should perhaps conclude soon, to which the former replied that he would like to sing for some more time. Ramanujachariar on hearing this called out to Mani Iyer that he would remain in the hall as long as the latter would like to sing. The concert concluded at midnight.

Flute Mali was another huge draw at this venue. He had performed here from a very young age. In the 1930s, a concert by Mali was in progress with Ramanujachariar keeping the talam with enthusiasm. The Ananda Vikatan’s cartoonist Mali was busy sketching both of them. On seeing this Ramanujachariar’s attention was diverted and he missed a beat. The young Mali immediately put down his flute and smilingly corrected Ramanujachariar who took it in good spirit. Later Mali would play truant at the Home. On one occasion he called off his concert at the last minute and a notice to the effect was put up outside the Home. Those who came to listen to Mali saw the notice and left after having roundly cursed the musician. Standing next to the notice board was a heavily bearded man who laughed uproariously each time someone abused Mali. None could identify that it was Mali himself, having the time of his life.

On yet another occasion, Mali did not land up and the crowd grew restive. Ramanujachariar, who was resting in his room did not even bother to wear an upper garment. He and Jagannathan, an inmate of the Home, rushed off in a car to Bazaar Road where Mali was living. Having found him there they lifted him bodily, placed him in the car and brought him to the Home. By then, Mali having recovered from the influence of the stuff that cheers, proceeded to give a scintillating performance.

While kutcheris were the norm on Navaratri evenings, Harikathas and upanyasams were conducted in the morning on all the nine days. These were held in the library of the Home. There were performances by Soundararaja Iyengar, C Saraswathi Bai, Harikesanallur Muthiah Bhagavatar and others.

In order to collect funds for the Home, Ramanujachariar adopted several measures, all with the fine arts as the focus. In 1932, he got the permission of the Maharajah of Travancore to conduct Sri Jayanti concerts at Trivandrum and Nagercoil. This got him Rs 3000 for the Home. In 1936, the birth centenary of Sri Ramakrishna was celebrated all over Madras for a week. Ramanujachariar was the chief planner. Processions were taken out in various parts of the city with the top-ranking nagaswaram artistes in attendance. Harikatha performances were held at various places. The highlight was a Harikatha on the life of Sri Ramakrishna by Srirangam Satagopachariar. Saraswathi Bai’s nephew remembers that she performed on the occasion at the Hindu High School. The crowds were so great that she could not get in. Someone led her to the rear of the building, where having scaled the compound wall by means of a ladder, she managed to gain entry. Music concerts were held too.

Ramanujachariar also floated the Secretariat Party, a dramatic society of amateurs who were all employed at the Madras Secretariat. This was an all-men group, assisted by the boys at the Home. Among the talents discovered at the Home was that of R Ganesh who at the encouragement of Ramanujachariar decided to seek a career in films. He became a star and is remembered as Gemini Ganesan. The Madras Secretariat Party too scaled great heights, and functioned for twenty years. The plays were invariably with a strong bhakti motif and ranged from topics such as Hanumat Sanjeevi to Kabir or Meera. Ramanujachariar was the playwright, music director and coach. He could at a pinch act any of the roles. This came in handy when during the staging of Raja Bhakti, the hero was injured by his own sword. None noticed this but Ramanujachariar and within five minutes he had donned the greasepaint and the costume and had got on to stage.

The Secretariat Party staged plays regularly in Madras at the Walltax Theatre and also travelled to every important town in Madras Presidency and beyond. It also staged performances at Rangoon and Colombo. Travelling to so many places meant a lot of preparation beforehand, for the shifting of props, the travel arrangements for the actors, local hospitality and sale of tickets at each town had all to be handled. But Ramanujachariar worked with a will and over a period, the Secretariat Party contributed more than Rs 5 lakhs towards the corpus for running the Home, thereby ensuring financial stability. Those championing other causes were quick to solicit its help and the Secretariat Party put up plays for the war effort and relief efforts following natural disasters.

After his retirement, Ramanujachariar’s influence over the Secretariat Party waned and in 1945, he promoted the Ramakrishna Kripa Amateurs, with membership being open to all those wanting to help the cause. This group, rehearsed all its plays at the Home and by way of its performances added Rs 3 lakhs to the corpus. Its biggest hit was Kalki’s Sivagamiyin Sabadam, the first staging of which was seen and approved by the author. The play was adjudged the best play in Tamil at a contest organised by the Delhi Natak Sangh. Ramanujachariar sent the team to Delhi and there, supported by the vast bureaucratic network that had several South Indians, the play was staged twice, once officially for the Sangh and the second time to collect funds for the Home.

Ramanujachariar was a strong proponent of the idea that Carnatic music ought to be taught using modern methods. He was one of the signatories of the famous resolution dated 7th January 1926 that proposed an Academy for Music in Madras, which became reality a year later. He was also, in his capacity as Under Secretary, Department of Education, involved with the setting up of the Annamalai University where he helped in particular with the conceptualising of the Music College, the first of its kind in modern times.

As age advanced, Ramanujachariar, like Ramu, spent time increasingly at the Home. In the last years of his life, he began working on his magnum opus – the translation of the lyrics of Tyagaraja into English. He completed the work and entrusted its presentation and publication to his close friend V Raghavan who brought it out in 1958. Sadly, Ramanujachariar did not live to see the book in print for he died on 4th November 1956. But the work Spiritual Heritage of Tyagaraja is still in print.

The Navaratri series continued till the 1970s thanks to Kolathu, who as Principal of the Ramakrishna Mission School, kept it going. But in the 1980s the practice was discontinued. The Abdul Hakim Ward had become dilapidated and was pulled down in 2005 to make way for the new Centenary Block. That year, several old students decided that the tradition established by Ramanujachariar ought to be revived. The new hall was rectified for better acoustics and a search began for a sponsor for the Navaratri series began. Nalli Kuppuswami Chetty, who had personally known Ramanujachariar came forward gladly and began underwriting the concert expenses. Since then, the Navaratri series has been taking place for the past six years. The response is terrific and once again, while it serves the cause of art, it also helps that a larger public gets to know of the good work being done by the Ramakrishna Mission Students Home.