A.R. Rahman is undeniably one of the greatest musicians India has ever produced. His music has been a constant companion for many of us, songs like Yeh Haseen Wadiyaan, Premika Ne Pyar Se, Muqabla Muqabla, and countless others are etched deeply into our memories. For me personally, his music was more than just entertainment. During my Master’s days in the USA, there wasn’t a single night when I slept without listening to his compositions. I had a playlist of his songs playing through the night, it was my escape from pain, loneliness, and the challenges of that phase of life.
My respect for him has always been immense. I admired him not just for his success, but for the depth and soul in his music. Every Independence Day, Vande Mataram by A.R. Rahman was a ritual. No matter how many times we listened to it, it always gave goosebumps. His compositions were always ahead of their time. There was never any discrimination in how his music was admired, Alaipayuthey’s “Alaipongera” and Jodhaa Akbar’s “Khwaja Mere Khwaja” were equally celebrated for their finesse, spirituality, and brilliance.
Over time, it is true that the impact of his recent albums hasn’t matched the magic of his earlier work. But even then, Rahman has remained a significant part of our lives, especially for those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s. He is a major part of our childhood, and our respect for him has always gone beyond anything else. We admired the artist, not anything beyond his music.
That is why his recent interview with the BBC came as a shock; not just to me, but to many across the nation. His statement suggesting that he stopped receiving opportunities over the last few years due to his communal identity drew widespread criticism. While some supported his view, many including ardent fans felt deeply disappointed.
My immediate reaction after hearing his statement was: Why?
Why was there a need to say this?
What compelled him to bring this up on an international platform?
From what I’ve read over the years through interviews of directors and articles, Rahman is known to be a perfectionist, someone who takes time to compose, prefers working at odd hours, and is also an expensive musician. Whether all of this is entirely true or not, it is believable. He is an Oscar winner, a recipient of numerous national and international awards, and someone who commands a premium for his craft. At the same time, the industry has seen the rise of many exceptionally talented composers like Pritam, Amit Trivedi, and Salim–Sulaiman, who resonate strongly with the current generation and evolving musical tastes.
Demand in any creative industry is dynamic, it changes with time, trends, budgets, and audience preferences. Whatever the reason for the decline in opportunities, attributing it to religion, especially in such a broad and sweeping manner, felt unnecessary and in poor taste. Instead of introspection or adaptation, the statement appeared more like deflection. As an artist of his stature, one expects maturity, the ability to accept competition, evolve with time, and focus on understanding what today’s generation connects with musically.
I strongly believe that no one in this country ever denied Rahman respect because of his religion. He was always celebrated purely for his work. His music transcended boundaries, beliefs, and identities.
Although he later apologized and reaffirmed his patriotism, the core issue was never about questioning his love for the country. The real concern was why such statements were made on an international forum, inadvertently projecting a negative image of the very nation that gave him recognition, respect, and success.
This incident serves as an important lesson not just for celebrities, but for all of us. Words carry weight, and when spoken by influential personalities, they can shape perceptions far beyond intent. Celebrities represent more than themselves; they represent their industry, their audience, and often their nation. A moment of emotional expression, if not thought through, can undo years of goodwill.
I sincerely hope this episode encourages public figures to be more mindful while giving interviews, especially on global platforms. Fame comes with responsibility, and wisdom lies not just in talent, but in knowing when to speak, what to speak, and where to speak.
Because sometimes, silence or thoughtful restraint can speak louder than words.
