Homespun icon: How Rajkumar’s legacy endures

Earlier this week, a packed Chowdaiah Memorial Hall listened to some of Rajkumar’s most popular songs. The show, titled Bangarada Manushya, was a first of its kind, tracing the life and times of the iconic Kannada film star through his songs.

For three hours and a half, the audience sat spellbound, humming along when the singers gave them a prompt. It was just a day before Rajkumar’s 97th birth anniversary, and it brought back nostalgic memories of a momentous era in Kannada cinema when Rajkumar films ruled the box office. Hosted by the music groups Suraaghavi and Babu School of Rhythms, the show also reminded us how the actor-singer’s work remains popular to this day.

It has been 20 years since Rajkumar’s passing, and close to 72 years since his debut in a leading role. The audience had a considerable section of young people familiar with his songs. The musicians, some of the best in the business, were clearly enjoying the challenges of covering hit melodies recorded by orchestras of 80-120 musicians.

Many legends surround Rajkumar, a phenomenon like no other, and stories emerging in recent years reveal new facets of his life. A telling incident recalled by music composer V Manohar speaks volumes about how Rajkumar conducted himself with his peers. When asked to compose for an album, Manohar created multiple tunes for each song and nervously confessed to Rajkumar that he was not familiar with classical ragas. “I don’t know much about them either,” Rajkumar reassured him. Manohar later discovered that Rajkumar knew all 72 melakarta ragas, which form the basis of raga classification in Karnatik classical music.

‘Simple’ and ‘humble’ are terms used commonly to describe Rajkumar, but they can be misleading. Rajkumar had little formal learning – he dropped out in primary school. But his learning was informal and vast. He could quote classic Kannada poetry from memory, he could sing difficult ragas, and pull off difficult asanas in yoga. He wore his simplicity like Gandhi wore khadi, perhaps to disarm the not-so-accomplished people who interacted with him.

We see Rajkumar as a Kannada icon, but was there even a single contemporary in all of Indian cinema who could match his disciplined understanding and exposition of classical music? Much of Rajkumar’s musical ability came from the days he had spent on stage, doing mythological roles.

How Rajkumar galvanised the Gokak agitation, demanding primacy for Kannada in school education, is well documented. His films mined Karnataka’s history and folklore, and were proud about the Kannada identity. That spirit has eroded, with more recent stars talking more about pan-India releases rather than their roots. Rajkumar’s acting range was wide, and covered everything from comedy to historical dramas to Bond-style adventures. His devotional oeuvre was stagey and populist – when he played Kalidasa, for instance, he reinforced the myth that the Sanskrit poet, born a shepherd, had acquired literary merit not because of his efforts but because a goddess had blessed him. But then, even when his films reinforced conventional stereotypes, they scored with their music.

Rajkumar’s relationship with writers was occasionally contentious. Novelist S L Bhyrappa reportedly refused permission for one of his works to be made into a Rajkumar film. U R Ananthamurthy criticised Rajkumar spearheading the Gokak agitation, asserting that literary intellectuals were best suited for that role. Rajkumar and Ananthamurthy eventually shared a stage in Udupi, and Rajkumar asked the writer for advice on what he should speak. The Jnanpith laureate, who defined the role of a writer as that of a ‘critical insider’, suggested Rajkumar sing a Purandaradasa composition, which he did to huge applause.

When the firebrand writer P Lankesh interviewed Rajkumar, he asked him probing questions. Rajkumar had famously played the saint Raghavendra Swami, and Lankesh asked him about discrimination when meals were served at places hallowed by his memory. Rajkumar hinted that he was aware of the darker dimensions of caste, but at the same time asserted that he had transcended them by winning the love of fans across all communities.

In 2000, Rajkumar was kidnapped by Veerappan, the dreaded sandalwood smuggler and poacher who, with a gang armed with rifles, ruled the forests of Karnataka and Tamil Nadu for decades. For a little over a hundred days, he held Rajkumar captive, triggering panic across the two states. He was eventually released after two desperate governments sent their emissaries and negotiated a deal with him.

Rajkumar’s films continue to be restored and released – Sampathige Saval, from 1974, was released again in 2026. His songs appear frequently on music reality shows. In a recent reel, shot at a live show abroad, Malayalam star Mohanlal sang one of Rajkumar’s hits. Another reel doing the rounds shows the Hindi actor Govinda singing a Rajkumar song. Rajkumar will not be forgotten anytime soon. And, as highlighted by the musical documentary Bangarada Manushya, the most striking quality of Rajkumar’s cinema is its optimism and music.

The writer often sees high art in kitsch and vice versa.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.