Mexican painter and global icon Frida Kahlo once said, “I paint flowers, so they will not die.” Similarly, the multi-faceted Kaber Vasuki also decided to pay tribute to a late friend by making a herbarium of verses. “Indha poo peru frangipani, idha paakkum podhu, enna nenachupiyaani (This flower is called Frangipani, when you see this, will you get reminded of me)?” goes the hook line of his latest song, which has not just excited his ardent fans, but also opened doors for newer sets of audiences to ‘discover’ him. “It’s a bittersweet song. I wrote it to grieve my friend’s passing, and I feel it would have been better if she were there when it became popular. In some ways, I do think she is there,” says Kaber, who continues to remain calm despite the song gaining even more momentum after a video of the song was released. “After a song is released, it’s not our song, right? It becomes the song of the people.”
Gradually, these people made Frangipani an anthem of sorts, and the ‘Nila’ of that song became the manifestation of their loss and longing. They imagined their own fluttering heart in that Nila, and when actor-director Snehaa Sesh stepped into the role in the video song, she gave clarity to many people’s blurry thoughts. “As an artist, it’s such a beautiful experience, right? When I know it’s a true story, it also heals a part of me, and I can channelise my own grief through this,” says Snehaa, who recently quit her corporate career to concentrate on her more artistic pursuits.
But being part of such an intense song and the outpouring of love, grief, and everything in between wouldn’t have been easy. While there is a raging debate about the ill effects of trauma-dumping on artists, Kaber and Snehaa assert that when you put out something so personal, you have to open your hearts to the people who use this art to heal. “I think it’s our responsibility to listen to people’s feelings. I had people message me saying it made them realize not to make rash decisions because they understood what it would mean for their loved ones left behind. It is overwhelming, but it helps me be balanced,” says Kaber. Echoing this sentiment, Snehaa says, “Such artistic expressions are meant to be shared, and we have to hold that grief together to help each other. Isn’t that what art is meant to do?”
But as always, art is subjective, and there is a fair share of people who have expressed their dislike of Frangipani and Kaber’s style of music, which, honestly, can be labelled as an acquired taste. In the era of social media, likes and dislikes are both instant and intense. However, Kaber, without missing a beat, says it is all for the best. “As an artist, the worst-case scenario is when no one cares about us. If I’m being trolled, it means I’m relevant. They ask me, is this even a voice, or is this even a song, or is this just a poem? The definition of what a song should be is shaken to its core. That’s how I see it, and you know what they say about any publicity, right?” asks Kaber, who pensively says that he had come to terms with his music never becoming mainstream. “Honestly, 2-3 years ago, I came to the conclusion that I’m never going to be mainstream. Even Frangipani was written for myself and a few of Nila’s friends. I wrote it for 10-15 people, and it was never meant to be anything ground-breaking. Probably why Frangipani’s journey has been magical.”
Having met for the first time while working on Frangipani, it is interesting that both Kaber and Snehaa understand what it takes to be mainstream but don’t mind embracing the independence that comes with staying on the periphery. “I’m a hardcore theatre girl,” says Snehaa, who has acted and directed in theatre plays, and feels ‘alive’ when she is on stage. “My soul is in theatre. Of course, I am also focussing on screen opportunities, theatre is something I’d do until my last breath,” says Sneha matter-of-factly. Talking about how Snehaa became the Nila of his song, Kaber says, “We were looking for someone who was fresh, and yet, really pull off that character. We met a lot of people in the theatre circuit, and when we met Nila, we knew she was perfect.”
Responding to Kaber’s words in kind, Snehaa immediately says that he was a ‘superb’ co-star. “He is such a sensitive and sensible person. Even for Nila, he just gave a few perspectives and asked me to just be natural and figure out the rest, says the actor, who points out that it is increasingly rare to get quality work in a time when social media following is playing an integral part in being chosen for projects. “It is difficult, for sure. Within the theatre community, we plan to pool resources, pitch scripts to producers, and explore crowdfunding opportunities. However, I understand that off-stage social media performance is important. It is taxing, but that seems to be the nature of business.”
Kaber strongly believes that this understanding of commerce is very important, even if one is plying wares in non-mainstream spaces. That’s why the musician, who doesn’t like being forced to do a particular style of song or stick to a specific genre, has no reservations about being part of the cut-throat world of cinema. “As Vaali ayya said, there is ‘karpanai tamizh’ (Creative Tamil) and ‘virppanai tamizh’ (Commercial Tamil). Cinema is like a corporate job. My job is to listen to what they want and make them happy, because that’s what I’m paid to do. I work very sincerely, but much like Snehaa, my heart, too, is in the independent scene,” says Kaber, who makes it a point to assert that this doesn’t mean the commercially successful artists are any less artistic. “I think we tend to overlook the artistic depth in commercial music. For example, there’s a line from an Asal Kolaar song that goes, “Un thiramaikketha parisa vaangardhu un thiramai (There is a talent in putting the right price on your talent)” That line hit me hard. So, just because it’s a fun song, you can’t deny the strength of its verses.”
Balancing commerce and creativity might be the next big frontier for both Kaber and Snehaa, and the question of how they manage it will be even more pronounced after the success of Frangipani. “I have to find the balance between what I give the audience and what I do because acting, I believe, is my life’s purpose. There are also times when I feel rebellious, and I want to do a particular piece of art for myself,” says Snehaa. On the other hand, Kaber, who has created a niche for himself purely on the back of being a rebel in the Tamil music scene, is clear that Frangipani’s success isn’t going to deter him from doing what he loves doing best: listening to the voice in his heart. “See, I am not running a grocery store where you get whatever you want. My job isn’t to do music that connects with you, but to blow your mind when you listen to it. If you connect with my music, then you connect; otherwise… this vehicle will continue to move ahead, like always.”