The Incomparable M.S.

For generations of Indians, the sound of dawn was the sound of the music of M.S. Subbulakshmi, who died Dec. 11 at the age of 88. Even today, her mellifluous voice, chanting the Venkateswara Suprabadam, the Sanskrit wake-up call to Lord Vishnu, is heard not only in temples all over India but by the Indian diaspora everywhere.

A renowned singer in South India's Carnatic music style, M.S., as she came to be called, was blessed with a voice that was tonally pure yet nimble enough to perform the operatic gyrations that are part of a Carnatic singer's repertoire. Yet what set M.S. apart from many of the talented singers of her day, and even today, was not her technical virtuosity, clear diction, or the astounding range of her voice. It was her ability to create spiritual transcendence through her music. Her voice could transport the listener to another plane and experience, if for a moment, a measure of bliss. The Sanskrit word for this is "bhava," which means emotion.

M.S.' voice was very evocative. It was said that when she sang "Rama O Rama," it was as if Lord Rama himself had come to sit in the first row of the concert hall. When she sang hymns to the Goddess Lakshmi, listeners could feel the presence of not only Lakshmi, but every other female goddess in the Hindu pantheon. Before his death, Mahatma Gandhi asked M.S. to sing his favorite bhajan (devotional song), "Hari Tuma Haro," whose haunting lyrics translate to "Oh Lord, take the pain away from mankind." M.S. demurred, saying that she didn't know the Hindi language and suggesting another singer. Gandhiji replied, "I would rather hear M.S. speak the words than have another singer sing them."

Being from South India, M.S. didn't speak Hindi. Yet, she still recorded the hymn, albeit many months later. When Gandhiji was assassinated years later, it was M.S.'s haunting voice singing "Hari tuma haro" that the nation heard again and again on national radio.

Carnatic music connoisseurs frequently call her voice "divine" and still recall--with goose pimples, they say--a favorite moment in a concert. After her performance in Carnegie Hall in 1977, then-New York Times music critic John Rockwell hailed her as "India's best woman singer." Few Indians, if any, would dispute that claim, and some may even remove the female moniker. Rockwell himself said later in his review "It would be interesting to hear any male singer who is better."

Born in 1916 in Madurai, a small but culturally rich town in South India, M.S. grew up surrounded by music. Her mother was a veena player (similar to a sitar), and her brother played the mridangam (Indian drum). M.S. herself would sit for hours strumming the tambura, which provides the tonal background for all Carnatic music, and practice matching her voice with the purity of the sound.

Beautiful and talented, M.S. had many suitors. But when her mother tried to arrange a marriage for her, M.S. rejected the match and left her home for Madras city. She arrived in the middle of the night in a horse-drawn carriage at the home of Thiagarajan Sadasivam, a maverick publisher and Congress party member. Recently separated from his wife and the father of two children, Sadasivam scandalized Madras society by taking M.S. into his house and later marrying her in 1940. They would remain married and intensely devoted to each other all their lives. M.S. sought direction and Sadasivam gave it. She desired nothing more than to sing, and he happily took on the role of managing her career.

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