My father Sangita Kalanidhi Sri D K Jayaraman. Born as the sixth and youngest child in the family on 22nd July 1928, little would my grandparents have thought that this child would be the second recipient in the family of the one of the most honored awards presented to musicians during the music season – the ‘Sangita Kalanidhi’. My father had a keen interest in mathematics and used to go to school as a very jovial kid. He did his intermediate course at Loyola College, Chennai.

Though his sister (my aunt) Padma Vibhushan Smt D.K.Pattammal was his first formal guru, he inherited his diction, knowledge in Tamil, and rendition of Tevarams, Tiruppugazhs, Tiruppavai, Kavadi Chindus, Sanskrit Compositions etc, from his father. His ‘Kelvi Gnanam that he developed by listening to various stalwarts, helped him, his disciples and even me till today that facilitates my anticipatory accompaniment to music. I have personally heard him say several times that how great and inspiring was the music of Ambi Dikshitar, N S Krishnaswamy Iyengar (disciple of Naina Pillai), Koteeswara Iyer, Palghat Mani Iyer, ‘Plate’ Venkatarama Iyer, T L Venkatarama Iyer and Papanasam Sivan. This instilled a perpetual thirst for knowledge for him while most of these stalwarts came home to personally coach D K Pattammal.

I have never seen him rest even for a few minutes. His mind and body would be ever active – learning, teaching or listening. I remember that he wanted to introduce a new krithi ‘Sharade’ in Devagandari by Sivan, for which he used to make me play it in the tape recorder throughout the day. He used to listen to it literally while eating, while in the bath, while relaxing in the afternoon etc. This was apart from him practising the krithi over thousand times before actually singing it for the audience in a concert for the first time! He was a true and complete musician. He lived by music and for it. His music lives even today like we listen to it live. This never meant that he missed other beautiful things in life. His zest and zeal for life was very contagious. He had a passionate love for all good things in life, be it good food, good clothes, cricket or movies. He thoroughly enjoyed his life. He admired Krishnamachari Srikkanth’s batting and enjoyed movies of MGR, Laurel & Hardy and Charlie Chaplin equally. He was very appreciative of Sivaji Ganesan’s acting. He used to mention that watching NTR in Lord Krishna’s get up, was like watching Lord Krishna himself. As a youngster he ran the Kanchipuram Cricket Association.

He often tells his students to sing the way Azharuddin bats – Orthodox. His other cricket favourites were Bradman, Mushtaq Ali, Gavaskar and Viswanath. During those days only All India Radio used to broadcast cricket commentary. My father’s very favourite commentator was Melvin De Mellow whose voice he used to admire very much. There was no dearth for fun and laughter in his classes. Just like his concerts, there was never a dull moment whenever he was amidst his students – they mutually enjoyed each others’ company. His principles were such that, he would teach 20 students at a time, intently listening and rightly spotting a mistake, correcting it with a joke or incident that he relished. Thus the student would never make the mistake again and immediately it would be back to work, serious work – for as a Guru he was a task master and a perfectionist. After all, his career a music teacher started at the age of 12! Yes – music was so much part of his life that at an age when a child would treasure their playing toys he treasured a small bit of paper in which he forcibly got the words for the Balagopalam (Bhairavi) written by his sister. He used to think that keeping something under the pillow would enable him to grasp it faster. In his case it proved to be true as he sang the whole krithi the very next day so perfectly, as a child of 7. My aunt used to be very emotional when she talked about her loving brother. She used to say “Jayaram was like karpooram (Camphor) in his ability to grasp anything. I used to be imperfect in rendering what was taught to me personally but he would playfully learn everything and recite them the very next day effortlessly”.

And thus he gave his first public performance with her at the age of 9! In 1939 at the age of 11, my father played the role of Prahlada in the musical opera by All India Radio ‘Prahlada Bhakti Vijayamu’. He was singing in the company of stalwarts like Chowdiah, Palghat Mani Iyer and Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar. A senior Vidwan took up ‘SriGanapathini’ in a very high pitch and couldn’t complete it. Since it was alive program surely disaster would have befallen if only it had not been for the presence of mind of the young DKJ whose voice piped up in a facile tone completing the krithi. Interestingly, Kalki Krishnamurthy remarked on this incident in his typical fashion, that this was the first time he saw Prahlada as the savior of Lord Vishnu! As musician he admired Smt T Brinda’s music. He had very great respect for her. He was literally a fan of Madurai Mani Iyer and G N Balasubramaniam.

When I was a new born baby, my father decided to shift to Madras, closer to his sister to learn and perform. Till then our family lived in Kanchipuram. My father was called ‘Cycle Vidwan’ as he used to go cycling in and around 8 villages of Kanchipuram to take classes. While cycling, he used to practise swara prastharams and pallavis that fetched him that name. Judge Tatachari of Chengleput compared my father with Henry Ford for his tireless work. My father often used to say: Duty is God’ and his motto was ‘NOW’. And all the heroes he worshipped were workaholics: Gandhi, Vivekananda, Buddha and Napoleon!

Similar to his liveliness being very infectious, the energy in his music charges everybody’s mind and soul. I have heard his American fan James A Rubin say “His rendition of ‘Mahadeva Siva Sambho’ is haunting” and the Violin Maestro Lalgudi Jayaraman say “DKJ can embellish any composition and give them his ‘Stamp’ “ As a teenager I have witnessed Padma Bhushan Dr S Balachander and ‘Kalaimamani Tanjore Upendran come home at midnight (1 a m to be precise) to present a shawl after listening to his pallavi (RTP) in a concert that evening. His music not only affected the layman and elite alike, even sanyasis would take a passion to his music. His Holiness Sri Jayendra Saraswathi Swamigal used to openly admit that he had an attachment to DKJ’s music.

There were there were several awards and titles including the Kalaimamani, Sangeetha Choodamani, Sangeetha Natak AcademyAward, Sur Singar, Gambhir Gana Mani etc, given to him. But amongst all, my father cherished one title the most was ‘Isai Thambi’ – that was given by his childhood hero – the great Nadaswara Vidwan Rajaratnam Pillai after listening to his rendering ‘Marubalka’ along with DKP at a wedding when he was 9 years old. Rajaratnam Pillai was honored with a shawl at the wedding which was worth Rs 1000 in those days, made of pure gold Zari, which he immediately presented to my father. What more can one ask for – being honored by the person you adore the most!

‘Naada Murthy’ and ‘Naada Murthy’ were presented on 5th August 1971 – as autographed and written in the book given by the great composer Papanasam Sivan in which he has mentioned “With the blessings of the Almighty, may he live a musically complete and auspicious life with the best of health and wealth”. I still possess that book at home. In spite of all the fervor he had for life, he was very much practical man, a workaholic. He would openly and wittily say ‘God made man, man made money and money makes many (everything)things’ – thus musical notes were not the only notes he loved!! His attitude towards these notes were ‘saving is religion’ !

As his son, I have never received any professional favoritism. He would be up along with me at 4 am every day. He would sit and help methrough my practice sessions. But when in the company of otherdisciples or musicians, as his children we were never given preferential treatment. He had never tried to recommend or influence for us. If I am anything in the music field today, I owe it all to him.

When Radha Parthasarathy came into music class as a little girl, no one could have imagined her becoming a Carnatic musician some day... she used to sing well and observe things keenly. Somewhere deep within her was a sensitivity for the art and our guru D K Jayaraman was responsible for bringing that sensitivity to the fore. His teaching was firm - there was no room for straying away from tradition, but he was gentle in correcting and shaping Radha's art. He has made a remarkable musician out of her. Today Radha sings without ever swerving from the path of tradition, her music is sure to move listeners to tears. Someone who heard Radha sing would compliment DKJ for it. His response was always a silent smile! How did DKJ transform a good singer into a consummate musician? That is a mystery not that no one can unravel!

Many teachers seem to treat music class as a break between chores of every day life. But DKJ lived his life in the time that was left to spare after all the music lessons he gave each day! Disciples would flock to his home starting quite early in the morning - at times even before he had brushed his teeth. If his hands were brushing, his ears were free and listening intently to the music! DKJ would listen to his students sing as he sat in the hall warming up to his first dose of coffee. He would remember all the slips his students had made until then, and take to correcting them systematically as soon as he settled down. In the middle of a music class, DKJ would let himself be distracted for a few seconds - perhaps over the cricket scores, taking a shot of insulin, attending to a telephone call, or to issue a quick command to either his sons or daughter, a chat with his wife about matters pertaining to the family, or a daily greeting from guru & older sister D K Pattammal. What a variety of distractions, but he would never get angry at being interrupted, neither would he lose concentration. He would resume class as though there had been no interruption.

DKJ approached people with warmth and cheer; students were captivated when introduced to his good-natured warmth, and an attitude that was friendly and devoid of pride. If he began the day with a music class early in the morning at 6 am dressed in a simple lungi and seated on his sofa, one could see him there taking classes until 9 in the evening!

One of our classmates was not Indian by birth and none of us in the student group could control our giggles when we heard him sing. But DKJ never slighted this student or disregard him. On the contrary, DKJ deeply appreciated the enthusiasm which brought a student across the seas, away from home. We used to wonder just how DKJ managed to keep a straight face. When this student sang the pronunciation would be hilarious. But he would only say "That student would feel hurt. I cannot spoil his enthusiasm by laughing at him!" Our guru never once calculated that he was wasting his time by teaching someone who clearly would not fit well into our mainstream.

Almost all of DKJ's students can distinctly recall his characteristic demeanour while singing, and particularly remember having seen him with his arms raised as he sang "Hiranmayeem Lakshmeem." At such times when DKJ was deeply involved in his music, his pet dog Caesar would run upto him and sink into his lap; occasionally Caesar would even wet DKJ's lungi! Caesar must have gathered sound knowledge of music while being conveniently seated on DKJ's lap. And soon enough Caesar grew into a big dog, no longer able to fit into our guru's lap. But Caesar refused to leave the music room! DKJ had no option but to leave him chained by the verandah right outside the music hall. Caesar's leash was just long enough to permit him to reach the doorway to the music hall and rest his face comfortably at the entrance. He never budged from his spot; students who entered or left music class had to mark their movements with the ever watchful Caesar! Anytime Caesar saw DKJ or any of his disciples, he would be overjoyed and rush up to greet them. Caesar was a staunch witness to all that we learnt and to all that we have been unable to grasp! With such constant attention to the goings-on of the music room, and if such a thing was physically possible then Caesar could easily have joined in the 'pinpaatu' of any song..

There was a time when DKJ had decided to teach the Kamalamba Navaavarana kritis of Muthuswami Dikshitar to all his disciples. Every evening the class would last about two hours and we used to meet at 6 pm to begin our session. We were 22 disciples in all... a huge group. All of us had to sing as one, enunciating the sahitya clearly and not refer to a book or tape for guidance. Our music had to be perfectly in sync with the shruti and adhere to the raga and tala as warranted by the kriti. What a task! DKJ trained us rigorously. People who are familiar with the format and the intricacy of the Navaavarana kritis can appreciate the difficulty of this project. Our guru wanted to give us this rare and special treasure, and he was taking great pains to accomplish the task ... and we wanted to reward him adequately, well beyond the nominal and usual guru dakshina that each of us used to give. Without DKJ's knowledge, we students got together and began discussing what would be a befitting reward for our guru. But even before we reached a consensus, DKJ sent word to us saying that he needed a special guru dakshina for this project and told us the specifics about individual contribution. Each of us readily gave the specified sum which was yet much less than what we planned to give. DKJ donated part of that dakshina to the Kamalamba temple at Tiruvarur, and the rest he spent on the welfare of a few students who were in need of assistance.

There were no limits to the concern that DKJ showed in grooming his disciples. I was learning 'Tulasidala Mulache'. I was leaving after class and had reached the gate of his house. He called me back and said "Sing that sangati one more time." He let me go only after making sure that I could sing that specific sangati to his expectation! DKJ was also very quick to appreciate his students. When any of his disciples sang well, he would rush to make a phone call to that student's home and convey his joy to the parents even before the student reached home from class!

One of his disciples, T G Badri Narayanan, was employed with the Government and sometimes would travel long distances on work. There would be many days when Badri was unable to attend class. DKJ would call him up and ask him to come over: "Oi Badri! It's fine if you're unable to make it to class, but why don't you drop in to say hello? And when you do, please bring puliyodarai, and also some roasted peanuts from Gandhi Stores!" Even a disciple who was lax in attending class regularly had nothing to fear from DKJ; he always welcomed his students with a warm smile. DKJ accepted not only his disciples but also their families! He readily helped his disciples in all matters - financial assistance, school admission, a job opportunity, medical help ... why, he even was ready to guide some of his disciples in their love lives! At the same time DKJ would never breathe a word about the help he had extended to someone in need.

DKJ's sense of humour used to continually lighten up our classes. This sense of humour was his constant companion, and didn't leave him even until the very last days. The seniormost of DKJ's disciples is V Sundaresan aka Sundu Mama. Sundu Mama travelled all the way from Tambaram to Alwarpet for class, every day! The day before DKJ passed away (January 25th, 1991), Sundu Mama was in a hurry to leave for home and insisted on leaving early. DKJ chided him saying: "Hey, why can't you wait a little longer? Stop behaving as if you were a newly married man!" All of us who were present including Sundu Mama burst into laughter at such teasing! Our classes used to always be filled with fun and frolic. Often, after classes were over, DKJ would engage in miming games, and would fondly mimic each of his students. Some of us would then take turns to imitate him, and these sessions became riotous fun. DKJ would thoroughly enjoy all our attempts to mimic him!

Though the music that DKJ taught was strictly bound by tradition, the methods of teaching were novel. In the early days he had banned the use of tape recorders in the classroom. Later on, he understood the need and benefits of the tape recorder. Not only did he permit the use of one but he continually advised us to store the tapes from class sessions with good care. While DKJ was teaching us one part of a song we'd have recorded the session. Soon he'd shout out a command "Push!" In his vocabulary, 'push' meant 'rewind.' Not knowing the precise meaning, Manoj once attempted to literally push and move the small table on which the tape recorder was kept! DKJ was totally amused and had a hearty laugh, exclaiming at Manoj’s innocent and spontaneous interpretation of ‘push’. Thats DKJ. His sensitivity for music was combined with a good sense of humour, a sense of appreciation and humaneness. One could see a stern teacher in him, and at the same time you experienced the comfort of having a good friend around you. Qualities that complemented one another continued to enrich DKJ's life. And DKJ unhesitatingly passed on all the wisdom he gained through his experience of life. That's why even after all these years of DKJ's passing, the bonding between his disciples continues to remain strong. Adequately equipped with the foundations laid by DKJ, his students can now go on stage and perform concerts together as a group.

Even today, DK Pattammal speaks with pride when she speaks of her younger brother and disciple Jayaraman: "His mind was razor sharp. I haven't seen another disciple like him." The confidence that DKP reposes in her brother's talent used to be reciprocated by DKJ. He would refer to Pattammal as "the pinnacle of patience." That unique bonding between brother and sister still guide us in our lives and music.

D.K.Jayaraman’s disciple and RFA member Savitha Kartikeyan recalls her years under his tutelage, and paystribute to her legendary Guru.Kritis that he taught have been etched in my memory and I am sure this will be echoed by any of his other disciples. There was some magical way in which these kritis got deeply deposited in us for years to come.

A perfectionist, who gave plenty of space in class for spontaneous humour, yet kept us vigilant every moment, he was light hearted yet uncompromising. He had the uncanny ability of singling out whoever sang a sangathi even mildly incorrect in as big a group as 20. Such was his astute alertness till his last breath. An unmistakable combination of pure diction, adherence to classicism combined with precision and passion defines the DKP, DKJ paddhati. There was never a dull moment in his class or in his concerts. Every composition that was rendered would have been practiced a million times and taught to his students before presenting it on the concert stage. Such was the respect given to the concert platform!

The aura he carried came from the sense of discipline and depth his demeanour and his music conveyed. His students never had to be told about punctuality. It was intrinsically understood. For a class at 5 PM the students would all assemble almost from nowhere at 4.58 PM at his gate. It may have equally been because nobody wished to miss even a single minute of his precious class.

Vijayadasami was always a memorable occasion where his multitude of disciples would keep trooping in with their offering of fruits and flowers to take his blessings. The privileged walls of #22, SS Iyengar Rd at Alwarpet, Madras would echo divine music through the day. On one such day, a young little student walked in wearing a bright yellow long skirt and DKJ Sir in the midst of the festivity broke into an unexpected tune ― en jodi manja kuruvi‖ (a super hit song then from the Tamil film Vikram) to receive the little girl sending everyone into a peal of laughter. After a light moment, it was soon back to serious work and he was teaching the chaste Mahaganapathe in Natanarayani!

The respect and affection he drew from his children and students were alike. His body bore multiple health issues but his spirit was undying. In his zest for life, he chose to belittle his health problems and carry on with immense positivity. I recall one of my most precious classes with him where he taught me Maname kanamum, a song that carries poignant questions about life and death. He must have got in touch with something so deep that the class turned into a spiritual discourse that brought tears to my eyes even at an age when I had hardly had a chance to experience life or appreciate the depth of what the song conveyed. That song remains one of my favourites for the DKJ had the openness and humility to genuinely appreciate good music however junior the singer was. He had heard the then up-and-coming Sanjay Subrahmanyam‘s Begada in a Music Academy afternoon concert and wondered aloud if even senior vidwans could sing such a splendid and evocative Begada! He never stopped short of praising his students openly or being protective of them when required. He equally gave himself the liberty to reprimand us openly thus keeping us all very aware and watchful all the time.

The most memorable phase for me was the time when about 15 of us were taught Muthuswami Dikshitar’s Kamalamba navavarnams and Panchalinga kshetra kritis and Dr. V.V.Srivatsa‘s compositions (many of the latter were set to tune by him). For weeks together, classes would go on for as long as 4 hours at a stretch, keenly perfecting the nuances of each of the gems. Ably supported by R.K.Shriramkumar and Vijay Siva, his senior disciples, DKJ Sir taught us all the intricate pieces with finesse, laboring enjoyably along with each of us.. We sang the Kamalamba navavarnams at many sabhas in various cities, including The Music Academy and Narada Gana Sabha and polished them more and more every time. The introductory speech that DKJ gave at NGS is a must listen where he shares an anecdote from his college days and connects old with contemporary intertwined with his amazing sense of humour. This has been released as a commercial CD and is a priceless collectible for any rasika of Carnatic music. A musician who could have as well kept all these treasures just to himself and maybe made commercial CDs, but in DKJ we found the most inspiring and untiring Guru who had the earnestness to pass on these treasures in their authentic form to all his disciples! The evening before his demise, all of us had sung Shyama Sastri‘s swarajathis in unison, as if designed to be his farewell prayer! Kritis such as Vinatha suthava (Jayanthasena), Rakshabettare (Bhairavi), Muruga Thirumal maruga (Harikambhoji), Gangadeeswaram, Karunai Deivame ( Sindhubhairavi),Shree Raghuvara (Kambhodhi), Mahadeva siva shambo (Revathi), Neelayathakshi (Paras), Geetha vadhya (Natakapriya), Nannu vidachi (Reetigowlai), Naati maata (Devakriya), Kapali (Mohanam), Nekkurugi (Abhogi) (the list is unending) bring resounding memories of his voice.

His music left an indelible mark in me that I have committed to carry on in a modest way the parampara, by sharing the richness that he gifted, with children of this generation. He had an infectious drive and determination and love for music that overpowered any shortcomings in his health. DKJ did not make any claims on serving the cause of music etc. He just lived and conveyed something very special, leaving for his disciples to pick up threads from and carry forward if they so wished.