A deeply personal recollection of discovery, creativity, culture, and artistic encounters in Madras — forming the third chapter of Surabhi Diaries by Suhail Tatari — capturing unforgettable experiences that shaped both craft and perspective.
This third chapter of Surabhi Diaries by Suhail Tatari offers a vivid, immersive journey through Madras—its artists, musicians, dancers, and iconic creators like A.R. Rahman. Rich with cultural insight, memory, and cinematic discovery, it appeals to readers seeking authentic Indian arts, behind-the-scenes storytelling, and the origins of creative legends.

My 2nd outdoor was to Chennai, than known as Madras. At the time of the briefing, I was extremely excited and nervous about two stories in particular; Mani Ratnam and Rahman. Nervous about doing a story on Mani Ratnam who I considered a genius and excited about the upcoming talent of Rahman.
This time I flew to Madras, as the team was to be hired locally. Madras was extremely humid, and not easy to handle even though one was used to some amount of humidity in Bombay. Ramani an alumni from FTII was the DOP and one to handle the production locally.
Potters, Light, and Living Traditions

We started the schedule with the Potters village little away from the city. It was a village resided only by potters. The poor condition of the huts was a clear indictor of the economic condition of the artists. Despite the fact that the market of pottery products was dwindling, we wanted to witness this piece of history and capture it for posterity.

However what was astonishing & heart-warming was the enthusiasm and dedication of the potters towards their art. They seem to have magic in their fingers as they shaped different vessels which was nothing short of poetry. The potters would bring the black soil from the river bed nearby as the soil was extremely soft and supple, apt for turning into different products like cups, bowls, jugs, vessels, water pots and surahis. The challenge for us was to capture the ambience of this story authentically.

Ramani decided to shoot without any artificial lights, relying solely on natural light and bouncing it from outside. This created an earthy texture on the faces of the characters. I hadn’t had such an experience before, as in advertising the approach to lighting is very different.
We were able to capture the essence of the story which highlighted the artform and the condition of the artist. However what became the highlight of the story was the magic surahi which became a question in the sawal jawab section in the show. When water was poured from the bottom of the vessel, through the pores, and later turned back water would not fall from the same pores at all. This seemed almost magical and the viewers wondered as to where the water disappeared. I was told that a record number of letters came for that particular question.

The Mandolin Prodigy’s World
In the early 90s U Srinivas a young musician from Madras was making waves in the Carnatic classical music scene of India, at the age of 21. Mandolin belongs to the lute family that was evolved in Italy and Germany. It’s four paired strings which was plucked with ta plectrum for tremolo effect & sustained notes. His father introduced him to Mandolin, as he himself was an exponent of the instrument. Srinivas was the first musician to use the electric mandolin in Carnatic music: he modified the electric western instrument, using five single strings instead of the traditional four doubled strings to suit the Carnatic pitch, raga system, and especially Gamaks or nuanced oscillations. I was very keen to shoot him at a concert. He was performing at a wedding the next day and invited us to shoot there. I landed up at the wedding with my team and to my surprise saw Vinayak ram performing on the Ghatam. What was more interesting was the way the wedding guests were listening to the music even at the wedding with rapt attention. To top it all the guests were evolved music listeners and counting tala` along with the performance. They were connoisseurs of music and not just any ordinary listeners. I had my first meal on a banana leaf at the wedding. What was overwhelming was the simplicity of the event with no shebang and over the top display of wealth.

Allarmal valli, an exponent of Bharatnatyam, Pandanallur choreographer, founded The Dipasikha Dance Foundation in Madras in 1984. She spoke in detail about the difference between the Bharatnatyam style of dance vis a vis the north Indian classical style.
What was extremely noticeable about Bhartnatyam was the use of eyes and expressions. To be honest I had little knowledge about the dance form and was learning as I went through the story. In 1991, Alarmel Valli was the second youngest dancer to be conferred the Padam shri from the Government of India.

Artists, Communes, and Creative Histories
Cholamandal Artists' Village is an artist commune in Madras. Established in 1966, it is the largest artists' commune in India. The community is located in the southern coastal neighbourhood of Injambakkam. Its artists are credited for the Madras Movement of Art (1950s–1980s) bringing modernism to art in South India. Their work is widely recognized as some of the best art produced in post war India and is shown regularly in galleries across the country. The community had over 20 resident painters and sculptors, who live as a community and pool their skills. They run the Artists Handicrafts Association, a cooperative which manages the village and sale of works through the permanent exhibition at the complex, which includes paintings, sketches, terra-cotta/stone/metal sculptures, batiks and handicrafts etc., making the village a self-supporting entity.

The community was founded by KCS Panikar the principal of the Madras school of Arts along with his students and a few artists associated with the college. It used the `art-meets-craft' approach where artists made handicrafts for a living as they pursued their art. By the 1970s, the village became self-sufficient and grew into one of the most important meeting places for international artists in India. Today, it is one of the few artist-driven movements in India. Four decades on, it is one of the few artists' colonies in the world to survive successfully and its foundation remains one of the "10 biggest art moments" in India.

The last two stories in the schedule were to be of Mani Ratnam and AR Rahman.
We had a confirmed shoot date for Rahman but had got no confirmation of Mani Ratnam. Meeting Rahman was, in many ways, special. He had already become a sensation in Tamil cinema after Roja, though the music hadn’t yet reached Bombay. He was soft-spoken, almost reticent, his words few and measured. I sensed I would have to draw him out, and perhaps I too was still learning to shed my own reserve as a director.

Rahman, Roja, and Revelations
I decided to film the interview portions a bit later so that he or rather both of us open up to each other. We discussed our advertising backgrounds and found that several advertising directors from Bombay had worked with him. My research told me about his initial years as part of a rock band so I spoke about it. I realised his passion skyrocketed once he was on his synthesiser or the programming machine.
I requested him to play a few songs from the album, Roja. He played the title track and it was absolutely mesmerising. But when he played the tamil version of yeh hasin wadian I was blown. The production was another level. It transported me to the mountains of Kashmir. I was extremely curious to know what kind of brief he had received from the Director, Mani Ratnam, for the song?. He recalled and said, I want to feel the cold icy winds of the mountains of Kashmir.

I realised how important it was for the Director and the music Director to be on the same page. What was unique about Rahman was that his style was extremely theatrical or operatic. Each song would start slow, gather momentum and having really high dramatic sections and low sections was his trademark. I thoroughly enjoyed shooting the story and getting to know him in the process. His recordist Hari joined us later and spoke about their collaboration since their advertising days and their transition into films music. I asked AR how familiar he was with Hindi film music and ragas. He mentioned that he wasn’t listening to too much film music but was familiar with the ragas. He though had heard music of the 60s, what was notable in the 90s was that there was very little exchange of technicians between south and North film industries.
The schedule ended with the Rahman story. Although Mani Ratnam story eluded us because of his schedule.
On my return I was extremely excited about the AR story and edited it first. During my edit, I used the Tamil songs as the Hindi version had not yet been readied. Everyone in the office was excited to see that story and importantly meet the man, who was to become a cult figure in the next decade or two.

For me the Madras schedule was learning a bit more of the Southern states, their culture, people and its food. Surabhi was proving to be my second schooling; this time though, not in classrooms and through books but in reality. There is no better learning than what you experience with people and their cultures.

The Madras schedule was more than just another assignment — it was a gentle initiation into the soul of the South, its cadence of speech, the warmth of its people, the quiet grace of its culture, and the spice-laden poetry of its food.
Surabhi had become my second school, but this one had no walls, no chalk, no textbooks — only open skies and winding streets. Here, lessons unfolded not in ink and print, but in the laughter of strangers, the fragrance of kitchens, and the stories etched into ancient stones.
There is no richer learning than what life itself whispers to you — through real people, in their own worlds, in their own tongue.