His knowledge gave him the courage
LEELA VENKATRAMAN
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Subbudu was a fearless critic, a man with a resilient spirit whose strength was his sparkling sense of humour.
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The award ceremony was followed by a performance of the recipients.
Photo: Anu Pushkarna.
NO ARMCHAIR CRITIC: Subbudu could handle the harmonium with great skill.
Subbudu the stormy petrel is no more and he leaves a gaping void in the world of dance and music. Literally gate crashing the Madras scene years ago, Subbudu's hard-hitting reviews made the formal and polite critical writings of even the likes of E. Krishna Iyer and Sri Raghavan appear vapid.
The pioneer of fearless criticism, Subbudu's pen did not hesitate to invade areas where angels fear to tread. His courage sprang from his in-depth knowledge of music and rhythm. This was no armchair critic, for he could compete with the best with his harmonium. Subbudu also had an uncanny insight into laya and its intricacies. Dancers ranted and raved in private about the "unfairness of his crude criticism." They never confronted him publiclybecause they knew he would test their knowledge by asking them about the arithmetic of the micro elements in the rhythmic sequence, and its architectonic build-up — something few dancers knew about .
Affectionate taunt
"My English is not King's or Queen's English. I know no Sanskrit and cannot spew verses from any treatise. But I know my subject. And people read me for that." He said with his usual frankness.
Subbudu often affectionately taunted me: "Here you are so right in your criticism but oh-so-polite and polished - you should have been in the diplomatic service. Hit these people hard. You have to hammer them or else they will just go unheeding."
I was always touched by his generosity. He was careful but not miserly with praise.
Mama would often ask me "Why don't you write about me? It would be so nice. I have asked you so many times". I did write a couple of stories on him and he was thrilled no end. I always wondered at his childlike desire to be written about. Here was one whose pen was feared and who seemed to care a fig for the opinions of society, yet he wanted to be written about.
In fact, his younger brother P.V. Krishnamoorthy also well known in the field of AIR and Doordarshan and a fine music composer himself, would say in mixed admiration and irritation, "I am always trying to shield AIR artistes during National programme recordings, from reading any untoward criticism by Subbudu published in some Tamil or English journal by hiding the writings - at least till the recording gets over. That brother of mine cares for nobody's opinions."
The family remembers that Subbudu as a youngster was painfully shy. PVK's wife (whose cooking skills mama called "Nalapakam") narrated an incident of which she learned when she entered the family about how Subbudu's extreme shyness kept him from talking even to his wife, and the young bride, wondering about the husband's aloofness wished to return to her parents' house for a few days. Deciding that enough was enough Subbudu's parents sent the couple away separately - this kind of honeymoon privacy not being the usual mode in orthodox families.
Loving companion
On their return, the wife no more talked of going away and indeed was a loving companion, sharing his triumphs and disappointments till her death a couple of years ago leaving Subbudu very lonely - even though he was surrounded by a caring family. Subbudu called me one day and said, "Mami about whom you were so often concerned is no more." In the crematorium with dry-eyed anguish he said, "Her last thought was for me. She told my my grand-daughter, `Look after your grand dad'".
Subbudu never wore his heart on his sleeve and he often couched his pain in humour. . I remember a most difficult time when he lost his loving grandson of about sixteen. I went to see Mama. He walked out to greet me sporting a colourful T-shirt and dhoti, "You see I am still the sporting kind, even when younger persons decide to go away." I still think of this as Mama's greatest hour - when he refused to be crushed by cruel fate.
A mimic who could hold you in splits , he was as famous for his scathing writings as for his witty one-liners"Objectivity is not about not having views but about applying them without fear or favour," he advised me.
In the last few months, my mother's ill health occupied my time and I could not visit Mama. "We are both the same age," Mama would say.
Coincidentally they were both ninety when they passed away, a few days after their respective birthdays!
Mama, you will be missed.
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