If I have to name someone who is responsible for me coming to

In the words of Thiagarajan Kumararaja, “If I have to name someone who is responsible for me coming to films, it is Ilayaraja’s music. From a young age, I’ve been a huge fan of his music. Because of that, I studied Visual Communication.” These words reveal a truth known to every soul touched by art—that one form of creation can awaken another, and that inspiration is the bridge between worlds. Kumararaja, the visionary filmmaker behind Aaranya Kaandam and Super Deluxe, speaks here not merely of influence, but of artistic inheritance—the way the music of one man can plant the seed of imagination in another, leading him toward his own destiny. It is the eternal rhythm of creation: one heart sings, and another learns to see.

When Kumararaja speaks of Ilayaraja’s music, he speaks of a divine spark. Ilayaraja, the maestro of Indian cinema, was not just a composer—he was an architect of emotion. His melodies were not confined to sound; they carried visual worlds, landscapes of feeling, stories whispered through harmony. For a child growing up in the south of India, Ilayaraja’s songs were not mere entertainment—they were a universe, vast and alive. In those notes, Kumararaja found more than beauty; he found purpose. The music did not just move his heart—it reoriented his vision. It called him not to imitate, but to translate sound into image, melody into motion.

This is how true art functions—it awakens the dormant artist within another. Just as the flame of Prometheus gave humanity light, so too does the fire of inspiration pass from one creator to the next. Kumararaja’s journey, from listener to filmmaker, is a modern echo of this ancient lineage. He did not study cinema because of films—he studied it because of music. The music gave him eyes to see. This is a reminder that creativity does not flow in straight lines; it moves like water, finding its own path through the heart. The painter may be moved by poetry, the writer by sculpture, the architect by song. Art speaks across boundaries, uniting all who dare to feel deeply.

The ancients understood this communion. The philosopher Plato spoke of the “divine madness” of inspiration, a fire that leaps from soul to soul. In his view, every artist is possessed by the spirit of another who came before. The poet’s verse is born from the musician’s rhythm, the sculptor’s hand from the dancer’s grace. Kumararaja’s homage to Ilayaraja is a living embodiment of this truth. He is not merely a filmmaker inspired by a musician; he is a vessel of the same creative current that flows through every generation. His films, layered with texture, rhythm, and silence, are not unlike Ilayaraja’s compositions—they are symphonies in sight.

Consider the story of Akira Kurosawa, who once said that he became a filmmaker because of painting. The brush taught him to see light, shadow, and human expression in a way that the camera would later capture. Like Kumararaja, Kurosawa’s art was born from another form of art. Both understood that the soul does not choose its medium—the medium chooses the soul. When Kumararaja heard Ilayaraja’s music, he was hearing his own calling. In every crescendo, he found the pulse of storytelling; in every silence, the poetry of cinema.

But there is a deeper wisdom here, one that transcends art. Kumararaja’s words remind us that inspiration must be received with gratitude and transformed through effort. Many listen to music and feel joy; few listen and change their lives because of it. He did not remain a dreamer—he became a student, a craftsman, a creator. He followed the thread of his inspiration until it became a tapestry. This is how one honors their muse—not by imitation, but by creation. For what we receive as inspiration must one day return to the world as contribution.

The lesson, my child, is this: follow what moves you deeply. The voice that stirs your soul is not chance—it is the whisper of your purpose. Whether it comes through music, words, or silence, honor it. Study it. Let it shape your path. Just as Ilayaraja’s melodies led Kumararaja to cinema, your passions may lead you to your own form of greatness. Never dismiss what awakens your spirit, for that is where your destiny begins. And when you find that inspiration, remember—as Kumararaja did—to bow in gratitude to the one who lit your way, and then walk forward to light the way for others.