When Rajini Became Superstar
I wasn't always like this. Like many of my TamBrahm friends, I looked back at the days of Mannan, Thalapathy and Annamalai (or his funnier side in Thillu Mullu), and thought of them as Rajini's glory-years, before he sold out to his Superstar avatar. Although he always lived in the shadow of Kamal Hassan in our minds, that's the closest he had come to being the real king of cinema."Amma Enrarazhaikaatha..." from the film Mannan
When Padayappa killed it in the Box Office in '99, Rajini quickly shifted gears and became the South India's biggest and only real superstar. In the next few years, he released Chandramukhi (Bhool Bhulaiya, in Hindi), Sivaji - The Boss, Enthiran... each opening in more theatres globally than its predecessors. Packed with elaborate unbelievable plot-lines and trademark Rajini punch-dialogues (delivered like only Rajini can deliver), and riding on his highly affable personality, Tamil cinema thrust itself on the national stage.
North India watched, not in awe, but clutching its belly in laughter: Rajini stopped bullets, Rajini conquered Mars, Rajini could change the laws of Physics. I remember distinctly how it irritated me when people laughed at Rajinikanth - someone they had never watched in theatres, because of SMS forwards which were not even true. For the first time in my life, I defended this man - not because I admired his acting, but because it threatened my identity. Suddenly, Rajinikanth was part of who I was.
I watched Enthiran alone in the theatre...
The inaccessibility of Tamil cinema outside Tamil Nadu and major metropolitan cities creates a barrier for even the most ardent fans. For a travelling, English-speaking, semi-fan like me, who finds it easier to name Hollywood films than films in Hindi or Tamil, it is almost impossible to follow Kollywood.Given Rajini's stature, he was one of the few (probably the only) actors whose films were screened in smaller Indian cities up North, at least dubbed in Hindi. During my college days, news about Rajini films became my only connection to Tamil Nadu, to Chennai and my childhood. I made it a point to watch his films, and say nice things about it.
Saying good things about Rajini felt like patting yourself on the back, happy that you'd enjoyed what your childhood friends had enjoyed, wherever they were in the world. You could enter Sathyam cinemas, knowing nothing could go wrong in the next two hours. After all, they did a paal abhishekam outside to ward off evil spirits.
And so I went to watch Enthiran, long after everybody else had, alone, with a Rs. 120 ticket in Sathyam. I've never gone to a theatre alone since, but that day I had an incredible shared-experience with strangers I couldn't see in the cinema hall. *wolf whistles*
The Rajini Effect
While the great Indian emigration, specifically the emigration of Tamils, started a long time ago, it received that massive push in 1991, that changed things as we know. The kind of push that ensures you and your friends will find yourself outside Chennai, probably outside Tamil Nadu, and possibly outside India, a few years after school.
This, however, also ensured that all of us carry a bit of home, and therefore a bit of Rajini, to every corner of the globe. And suddenly, people in Europe, Japan and Houston were mouthing the words - "Naan oru tharava sonna, nooru tharam sonna madhiri".
My friend's startup, that designs T-Shirts, came up with designs like this one, that I purchased:
Some things happen once, and only once, and never happen again. Rajinikanth is our last superstar. Rajinikanth - the phenomenon - will end, and there will never be a Rajini again. When will there be another time, when such mass-migration will take niche pop-culture to every corner of the globe?
The reason we all feel connected by Rajini, and can share the Rajini-experience wherever we are, is because we started in an age that wasn't as connected, and grew into the information age carrying our mini-cultures with us. There will never be another Rajini, because the beginning of the Information Age has ended, and we've lived through it already. There will never be another Rajini because our idea of home has forever changed. There will never be another Rajini because we cannot imagine another age where we can share a veg puff at a shady roadside teashop, trying to wear a pair of round -3.50D spectacles Rajini-style.
Rajinikanth, who I never admired in my childhood, is now a part of me. I have the option to watch the full Kabali movie right now, by clicking on a link on Whatsapp. But I won't. Because Kabali is more than a movie, Rajinikanth is more than an actor.
Rajini is an experience. Rajini is a phenomenon. He gives us a collective-identity. It doesn't matter where you are in the world, Rajinikanth will guide you home.
