The book opens with a quote from Rahman: "When people ask me what's the best way to compose a song, I tell them: ‘A song has to come to you like the breeze. In south India, we talk of the breeze that blows through the leaves of the coconut tree. It has a natural feel and makes the leaves rustle gently. It isn't the same thing if you shake the tree violently'."
Talking about writing music, he says: "I don't really follow any style when writing a melody. I go by instinct. People might expect the melody will follow a certain progression but then it goes somewhere else."
Looking back on his childhood years, Rahman opens up about the influence of his late father, RK Sekhar, a composer, arranger and conductor, who played the harmonium and the piano. Sekhar was the only musician with six keyboards in his house. Rahman received his first music lesson from his father and grew up listening to his music. A loner as a child, Rahman preferred playing on the harmonium for hours instead of playing outdoors with friends. Tragedy struck the family when Sekhar died at 43. Rahman was 9.
"My father did not leave me a castle or anything, but he did leave me some musical instruments. And most importantly he left me the tremendous goodwill of musicians," Rahman says. Initially, his mother rented out her husband's musical equipment. So Rahman began working as a roadie, setting up their keyboards for other musicians. A year later, when these musicians could afford their own equipment, they stopped renting from Rahman's family.
It became imperative for 12-year-old Rahman to shoulder the family responsibility. His first job as a keyboard player under MK Arjunan, (Malayalam composer and his father's friend) was for a token salary of Rs50 (Dh4).
The next ten years he worked as a session musician for every music director, including Illayaraja and Raj-Koti. When work interfered with studies, Rahman had to quit studies. And to augment income, he worked on advertisement jingles besides working in films.
Electronic gadgets always fascinated Rahman, who at one time aspired to become a computer engineer. What gave him great joy was composing music in his spare time. He would save these tracks. When destiny brought Mani Ratnam to his studios, Rahman played these tracks. The magical combination of the duo was thus launched with their film Roja.
Expressing admiration for Mani Ratnam, Rahman says that under the director he learnt to push the envelope and experiment by combining and contrasting one style of music with another in the same composition. Another person who opened his mind to new ideas was Shekhar Kapoor.
"He introduced me to Andrew Webber. Shekhar showed me that anything was possible," Rahman says.
Rahman commends Andrew's decision to make Bombay Dreams, a brave and a great one, that too in the early 2000s, when the Western audience was not ready for his kind of score. Working on stage productions such as Bombay Dreams and The Lord of the Rings was like journeying into another world, adds the Mozart of Madras.
Fondly recalling memories with Michael Jackson, whom he had last met in 2009, Rahman talks about MJ praising the chord progression in the Jai Ho chorus.
Sharing interesting nuggets about his music compositions, he refers to the catch words in the song Mayya mayya, from the film Guru. The idea came up after hearing a water seller cry out "Mayya, mayya" during the Haj to Saudi Arabia. As for the song Barso Re, Rahman recalls: "My son, Ameen, was playing near me when I was working on a tune for Guru. But I decided not to use it. A week later I heard him singing ‘Na na na na re'. I thought to myself, ‘Ah, he likes it.' I worked on the song and used that line as a hook in Barso Re."
When the author asks, "What happens if you get stuck and can't find a tune?" Rahman says he takes Subramanya Bharati's poetry (freedom poetry) for inspiration and sets it to tune, which is later replaced with film lyrics. Similarly, he uses the poetry of Hazrat Amir Khusrau or Bulleh Shah to compose Hindi or Urdu songs.
On the personal front, you learn about his journey on the path of Sufism under the influence of Karim Allah Shah Qadri, a Sufi peer, whom he met during his father's illness. Surprisingly, it was a Hindu astrologer who gave him a Muslim name.
Rahman owes it to his mother, who believed in him and ensured that he learnt music. She sold jewellery kept aside for his sister's marriage to buy her son his first Fostex16-track mixer recorder. "All those years of struggle, humiliation, being ordered around by other people, seeing worry on the faces of my family, remembering the feeling of being overwhelmed by an inferiority complex, the lack of self-esteem and even at times fighting suicidal thoughts — all that seemed to fade away. Sitting in the music studio that night and staring at my new recorder, I felt like a king," Rahman confesses.
Married to Saira, Rahman talks about their children, Khatija, Rahima and Ameen (who sang in Couples Retreat).
Written in an easy format that is quick to read, the book does whet your appetite interspersed with pictures from Rahman's albums, hitherto unseen.
However, Munni Kabir's questions do not follow a chronological narrative and this is not a biographical tale. Yet every journalist who has covered Rahman will tell you how tough it is to pin him down. The author has managed that, giving us a glimpse into the awe-inspiring saga of a shy lad who rose through sheer perseverance to grab the global podium, beating all odds.
Mythily Ramachandran is an independent writer based in Chennai.
AR Rahman: The Spirit of MusicBy Nasreen Munni Kabir, Om Books International, 216 pages, Rs495
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