He leaves to where his music came from

I generally attend very few kutcheris during the music season, though my visits to the Sabha are more frequent to savour the food that is on offering. But every year I always used to watch out the papers for the Sabha's where Kunakkudi used to be playing.  He generally played for everyone, the connoisseur as well as the layman. His music reached everyone, right from the knowledgable maami's in their impeccable kanchipuram sarees to those who came just to listen to some soul stirring music. There have been occassions when his violin used to speak with the audience, he used to play songs on demand, even cine ones.  There have been occasions when I have been forced to go to kutcheris just to accompany my mother, I used to sit because I was forced to, but when Kunakudi was playing it was different. 

His greatest achievement will perhaps be making the Murugan temple at Marudhamalai extremely popular. The song Marudhamali Mamaniye murugayya from the movie Deivam set to tune by Kunnakudi remains fresh in memory to this day. Every time he played the song one could sense something special, the smile used to widen,  the hands used to move on auto pilot mode. It was more than just a song to him , it was his offering to his favourite god for all that he had bestowed on him. 

The greatest teachers are those who are able to reach and communicate effectively to the students with the lowest IQ. A teacher is judged not by the knowledge or degrees he accumulates but in the way he articulates the most complex of theories. Similarly a musician's greatness should be judged not by how the connoisseur's perceive him , but by the impact he has created amongst the laymen. This is where Kunnakudi stood head and shoulders above the rest. He drew the music illiterate into the halls, people who didn't know what laya, shruti, pallavi or anupallavi flocked to listen to him. To them the notes emenating from his violin were divine, they just came there and lost themselves in the magic he weaved.  The  rhythmic nodding of his head, the bow moving like a magic wand,  ash smeared all over his forehead with the kungumam in the middle added to his mystique. There will never be another Kunnakudi. I for one will certainly miss him