Prior to the release of Mani Ratnam-Kamal Haasan’s Thug Life, anticipation for the film reached a crescendo when singer Chinmayi took to the stage at the audio launch and rendered a soulful version of ‘Muththa Mazhai’, adorned with intricate musical flourishes that felt like poetic alliterations to the melody. Her performance sparked a spirited discussion—“Whose version resonates more: Chinmayi’s or Dhee’s?” The conversation, while unnecessary, highlighted the distinct strengths of both gifted vocalists. As the release drew near, audiences seemed to set aside comparisons, choosing instead to await how the song would unfold on screen. Though the film has received mixed responses, one sentiment appears to unite listeners: a quiet disappointment over the song’s absence from the film.
The united ire of audience members over the song’s absence only underscores how ‘Muththa Mazhai’ has grown into an undeniable earworm over the past few weeks. While its omission within the film remains open to interpretation, there's much more to explore, appreciate, and celebrate about the composition and AR Rahman's ongoing relationship with the raga it's set in. By now, it's all over Instagram that the song is rooted in the Hindustani raag Puriya Dhanashree. This corresponds to the raga Pantuvarali in Carnatic music. Long before ‘Muththa Mazhai’, Rahman had already tapped into the emotional range of this raga in at least four other songs, each situated in a distinct cinematic context.
Before diving into Rahman’s use of the raga, let’s first understand a little about Pantuvarali—or Puriya Dhanashree, as it’s known in Hindustani classical music. Intense and emotionally charged, Pantuvarali, also called Kamavardhini, is a raga that carries a profound sense of longing. Interestingly, the word ‘Kama’ can refer to both desire in a sensual sense and in a broader context, yearning. In that light, Rahman has used this raga to gently evoke the former and deeply dwell in the latter. But the emotional palette of Pantuvarali doesn’t end there. Maestro Ilaiyaraaja, for instance, brought out its divinity and power in the spiritually soaring ‘Om Sivoham’ from Naan Kadavul. For those seeking a gentle yet clear introduction to the nuances of this raga, Ilaiyaraaja’s violin-led theme from Raja Paarvai remains one of the most accessible and elegant entry points.
Preceding ‘Muththa Mazhai’, AR Rahman has used interpretations of the raga in four other songs, with each composition revealing a new facet of its emotional range. Naturally, the songs are also shaped according to the film’s moods and the story’s needs. Here's a look at how the Oscar-winning composer has woven the same aarohanam-avarohanam into a diverse tapestry of sound across the years.
‘Atthini Chitthini’ from Thenali: Flirtation meets farce
AR Rahman had collaborated with Kamal Haasan twice before Thug Life—first in Indian and later in Thenali. It is in the latter, directed by KS Ravikumar, that the composer used Pantuvarali. Visualised by Jayaram’s character Doctor Kailash, the song features a confident Thenali Soman (Kamal), unlike his real personality, exuding charm and sensuousness with not just the former’s sister Janaki (Jyotika) but also his wife Jalaja (Devayani). With the picturisation dabbling in humour and focusing on Kailash’s insecurities, the song hits the right spot as it highlights strong emotions like envy and love while also making room for comic relief. It starts out rather casually, only for Hariharan's baritone voice to dial up the seriousness when he starts singing ‘Oh…Oh…’. Rahman’s choice to set this playfully intense sequence in Pantuvarali makes for a truly distinctive and layered use of the raga.
‘Hai Rama’ from Rangeela: Carnal longing in a velvet soundscape
A song that has been a banger for 30 years, ‘Hai Rama’ from Rangeela, makes apt use of Kamavardhini, once again rendered passionately by Hariharan along with Swarnalatha. Set exactly after Jackie Shroff’s Raj Kamal decides to propose to Urmila Matondkar’s Mili Joshi, the song oozes carnal longing while also somehow accentuating his unrequited love for her. There is some urgency in the way the song is composed – with the Veena making way for a brilliant interlude when the verses are absent – something that is very primal. Rahman’s use of a soundscape that is smooth and rich, providing an immersive auditory experience doubled with sultry visuals, puts the spotlight on raw physical emotions while also hinting at innate despair.
‘Macha Machiniye’ from Star: Hero introduction with a drizzle of oomph
Immediately after Murthy’s (Prashanth) rogue ways are established in Star, ‘Macha Machiniye’ bursts forth as an introductory song for the hero, while also doubling down as a ‘dance number’ with a special appearance from Mumtaj. For a song that is essentially meant as eye candy, Rahman’s choice to use the intense and immersive Pantuvarali gives us an insight into his confidence with experimentation. For a dance number, the song is composed with intense notes and heavy vocals. Despite having lyrics that don’t quite match the raga’s deep emotional weight, the composition succeeds in exuding sensuality and solidifying Murthy’s complex, charismatic identity.
‘Idhayam’ from Kochadaiiyaan: Betrayal and melancholy with a dash of longing
Since ‘Idhayam’ is also crooned by Chinmayi and composed with shades of Pantuvaraali, its resemblance to ‘Muththa Mazhai’ was easily picked up on. The beauty of ‘Idhayam’ is its placement in Kochadaiiyaan, when Vadhana (Deepika Padukone) discovers being betrayed by her dearest Rana (Rajinikanth). It is composed in a way that starts with Vadhana's misery-filled lamentations, slowly snowballing into a sorrowful melody. The lyrics, along with Chinmayi’s melodic embellishments, bring out deep-rooted despondency while allowing flickers of longing for the loved one to rise to the surface every now and then.
‘Muththa Mazhai’ from Thug Life: Grief takes a stride with hope
Coming to the song that sparked the conversation, ‘Muththa Mazhai’. Its haunting violin motif surfaces during Shakthivel’s (Kamal Haasan) confrontation with Indrani (Trisha), layering the moment with grief. Rahman has not only used Carnatic and Hindustani music, but has also added a beautiful Sufi layer to the composition, blending multiple musical styles to present a euphonious refrain. The fascinating aspect of it all is how a singer can make all the difference. Rather simple, yet meaningful and deep, is Dhee’s version, which, to me, brought through the pain and suffering of the heart. Chinmayi’s interpretation comes with a bit of playfulness and a tinge of passive-aggressive sarcasm, which makes the affliction more agonising. In a way, the song's absence from the film lends itself to multiple meanings, each personal and subjective.