Can a voice flow through your blood vessels? Can a voice be always there in the air? Can a great flowing river remind you of a song? Can a voice croon a baby to sleep and also sing a song that sets your blood racing, on the same day? Reach God, but also make the front benchers dance and whistle? Can a singer become the operating system of generations of music lovers across five decades? For me and millions of music lovers, SP Balasubramaniam is that voice. From the day I recollect being alive on this earth to this day, his voice has been a part of me. One of the earliest songs I remember is “Neevunte verey kanulu enduku. Neekante very bratuku enduku.” A blind man sings, “If I have you by my side, why would I need an extra pair of eyes. If I have you by my side, why would I need another life?” He somehow has taken that place in our collective lives through his ubiquitous voice. Balu continues to be there at every bend of my life, immortalising each moment with one of his gems. I was fifteen, writing my board exams. As I was having my breakfast, I heard the legendary song break on the radio, “Sirimalle neevey, viru jallu kaave. Varadalle raave, Vallapante neeve.” Midway, he breaks into a flighted aalapana that bloomed a thousand flowers in the valley of my heart! I did well in the exam. SPB is a blessing in the form of countless songs. His songs weaved through the cycle of life. His “O papa lali” would wrap a baby in its arms and put it to sleep. His “mabbe maskesindi le” set free a million youth and their raging hormones. His “om-namaha” is a tribute that would melt a frozen statue. In the same year, he sang the highest philosophical hymns from Shankarabharnam “Manasa Sancharare’ and also grunted his way through mass-pleasing songs from Vetagadu like “Aaku Chatu Pindhe Tadise”. His voice helped us glide through every conceivable mood–joy, sadness, revelry, loneliness, and companionship. His song would return a lonesome wanderer back to the embrace of his lover in Gitanjali, “vontari batasari, janta ku cherara, kanti ki paapa vaitey, reppa ga maarana.” His Keeravani would set a thousand birds free in Anvehshana, “Nee gaganaalalo, nee chiru tara nai, nee adaraalalo, nee chirunavvu nai.” How many shall I count?

Extraordinary people apparently spend 10,000 hours doing what they like in order to become outliers in their chosen field. SPB was an outlier several times over. He sang for 50 years. He recorded an astounding 50,000 songs in multiple languages. His playback career lent voice to successive generations of actors, sometimes within the same family. I, for a moment, think that he lived in multiple universes at the same time because every generation separated by age as well as language would simultaneously claim him to be their own beloved Balu. How can that be possible? In the immortal song from Sagara Sangamam “vedam anuvanuvuna naadam,” SPB is our vedam, the divine word, in every atom of our existence, he is the naadam, the divine voice.

S.P. Balasubrahmanyam in 2011. | Photo Credit: M. Periasamy