Sankarabharanam (1980) — Sankara Nada Sareera Para!

1980. Telugu cinema was dominated by mass entertainers. No distributor would touch a film about a classical musician and a social outcast. One producer said yes, and changed Telugu cinema forever.

Kala Tapasvi Kasinadhuni Viswanath. The ascetic of art. A man who believed that cinema could be a form of devotion. That traditional music, classical dance, and social complexity need not be obstacles to commercial success. In fact, they were the path to it.

Today, we rewatch the all-time classic Sankarabharanam. With someone who has loved this film for decades. Who sings Carnatic music. And who carries this film in her heart the way so many of us do.

This episode: The extraordinary story of Poornodaya Movie Creations and Edida Nageswara Rao — the producer who believed when nobody else did. 
K. Viswanath's remarkable body of work. The story of Shankara Sastry and Tulasi — two worlds that should never have intersected. The music of K.V. Mahadevan. SPB singing from the peak of his powers. And Veturi weaving his lyrical magic through classical kritis from Thyagaraja, Bhakta Ramadasu, and others.

A film that opened to empty halls on February 2nd, 1980. And became a phenomenon through nothing but word-of-mouth. K. Viswanath passed away on February 2nd, 2023. Forty-three years to the day.

The music lives on. The movie lives on.

Because the best part of any movie isn't the movie — it's always the conversation after.

New episodes every week.

Interval ke baad, the real conversation starts.

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Produced by The LuminACE Group, LLC

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:39

Lately, I've been thinking about what movies and music mean to us. We lost Asha Bosley last month. Twelve thousand songs, a voice that was there for every mood, every moment, and every one of us, and the outpouring of love from our listeners reminded us why we started the podcast. And then the Michael Jackson biopic released, a film about one of the greatest musical artists who ever lived, his genius, his complexity, his extraordinary relationship with his own craft, a global blockbuster reminding us once again that when a story about music is told well, it transcends everything. And today we are going to talk about another artist and technician who devoted his entire life to that same belief that art matters, that music matters, that cinema can be a form of devotion while still being entertaining. Kalatapaswe, K. Viswanar. A man who became one of the greatest directors in the history of Indian cinema, and a man who made the masterpiece, we'll be re-watching today. Arsha Bursley, Michael Jackson, K. Vishwanat, three artists, three completely different worlds, but one truth that when you dedicate your life to your art with complete purity and complete conviction, the world eventually comes to you. This is what cinema does. This is what music does. It gives us the language for things we cannot say. It gives us company when we feel alone, and it gives us a way to understand our lives. Hello, friends. I am Bharat. Welcome to After the Interval, Interval Kebat, because the best part of any movie is not the movie, it's always the conversation after. One of the great joys of doing this podcast is that it brings people together. Film lovers, music lovers, people who carry these stories in their hearts and want to share them with us. We are going to watch one of the most iconic films in the history of Indian cinema today. A film that opened to empty halls and became a phenomenon through nothing but the power of mouth. A film that revived Carnatic music for an entire generation. And a film that K. Vishmanat made with 13 lakh rupees that changed Telugu cinema forever. The year is 1980 and the movie is Shankarabharana. Joining me today is someone who has loved the film for as long as she can remember. Someone who does not just listen to Karnataka music, she sings it, and someone who has been one of the most ardent fans of After the Interval, one of our most loyal and enthusiastic listeners from the very beginning. Rather, welcome to After the Interval. We are so glad you are here.

SPEAKER_00 4:04

Advaita Siddhiki.

SPEAKER_05 4:26

Thank you so much, Barat. It's truly an honor to be here on after the interval. Shankara Varnam is not just a film for me. It's an emotion, a spiritual experience, and a celebration of our culture and music. Though I learned Kalnatic classical music for many years, I never pursued it very seriously. I would like to offer my apologies at the outset for any shortcomings or mistakes in my singing.

SPEAKER_01 4:53

I think you're doing fantastic. I think you're going to do great. But rather, before we dive into the movie, tell us a little bit about why Shankara Bharanam means so much to you.

SPEAKER_05 5:07

One day after I returned home from my school, my father asked me to get ready quickly because we are going to the movie Shankara Bharnam at Royal Theatre in Hyderabad. To be honest, I wasn't very excited. I had already seen the movie poster which showed an elderly man dressed in a traditional panche holding a musical instrument in his hand. So as a 10-year-old, I assumed it was a film meant for the older generation and not something I would enjoy. What happened next was something I never expected. After watching the film, I was completely blown away. The story stayed with me, and I kept replaying it in my mind long after we left the theater. It was unlike any of the movies I had seen before. Until then, I was used to watching NTR blockbusters like Driver Ramu, Veta Gadu, and Yogandar, where the hero appeared in colorful shirts and pants and fought villains and entertained audiences with action and glamour. Shankarabaranam was different. It introduced me to a world of classical music, tradition, values, and deep human emotions. The elderly man from the poster, whom I had initially dismissed as boring, became a character I deeply admired by the end of the film. Looking back, that visit to the Royal Theatre remains one of my most memorable moviego-going experiences. It taught me that great cinema can come in unexpected forms and appearances can often be deceiving.

SPEAKER_01 6:39

Fantastic, rather. I am looking forward to diving into Shankara Barnam with you. But before we begin and talk about Shankara Baranam, I want to talk about the man who made it possible, the producer Edidanagias Warrao. He had come to Madras to be an actor. Rather, he appeared in a few minor roles. And then he made a decision that changed Telugu cinema forever. He decided to become a producer. He founded Purnodaya Movie Creations. And for the next 16 years, from 1976 to about 1992, he made exactly 10 movies. Rather, I have the list here. I'm gonna quickly go through it. First one, Sir Sri Mover, 1976, Vishunat directed two national awards. Apparently, after the movie, Vishnuath suggested the name Purnodaya Movie Creations to Adidhanagi Swarra. Tayarama Bangaraya, big hit in 79, The Magnum Opus, Shankaraburnam comes in 1980, Sita Kokachilika in 81, National Award. Then my all-time favorite movie, Sagara Sangamam, which we will absolutely rewatch in a multi-part podcast. Sitara Nandi Award, Swatimutyam, Kamala's in an autistic man, national award. Actually, India's submission to the 59th Academy Awards for Best Foreign Language film. Swam Krishna 87, Swarakalpana, and then of course Vicharanjee, Apad Bandavudu. That was the last movie under Purno Deaha. So 10 films, seven directed by K Vishnah, nearly everyone a national award winner. And two of the 10 movies are in the hundred greatest films ever made in India. And to be able to have that kind of success, but also in every movie, there are just social themes running through each of them. The artistic purity and poverty in Sagara Sangamam, the story of a special needs person and the remarriage of widows in Swatimutyam, the concept of rural dignity in Swayam Krushi. Eididana Geswar didn't just produce films. He was making such a statement about what Telugu cinema could be. And that is the best part. And for me, the thing that is mind-boggling is that when Vishnuanath came to him for the script of Shankara Barnam, even Vishwanath had doubts to the point you made earlier, Radha. It was NTR and Krishna. And movies of this kind were not made frequently, but Adidanagi Swarau absolutely had this vision that this movie would work. So one decision and Telugu cinema would never be the same again. Let's get into the movie a little bit. So the context, the year is 1980, Telugu cinema, like you mentioned, was dominated by NTR and Krishna. There was simply no room, or at least people thought, for a film about classical music, a social outcast, and this concept of devoting oneself to one's craft. And into that world, Shankaravaran came and it came into empty halls. So rather, uh just a question for you. When you look at that body of work that Purnodaya and K. Vishwanat created and the messages that each film carried, what do you think they were trying to say? What did those films mean to Telugu society at that time?

SPEAKER_05 10:19

The films that Purnodaya and K. Vishwanath created together were deeply rooted in Telugu culture while conveying universal human values. Films like Sankara Bharnam, Swati Mutyam, Sagar Sangamam, and Sriri Vendala explored themes of art, tradition, social equality, dignity, and compassion with remarkable sensitivity. What made these films special was that their messages emerged naturally through compelling storytelling and memorable characters rather than through preaching. They entertained audiences while also encouraging the reflection on culture, social reform, and human relationships. Their impact on Telugu society was significant, fostering pride in cultural heritage and sparking meaningful conversations. Even today, their themes remain relevant because they speak to timeless human values.

SPEAKER_01 11:18

Absolutely. Were there any other Purnoyadaya movies that are near and dear to your heart?

SPEAKER_05 11:27

Yes. Apart from Shankarabranam, Sagar Sangamam is the Purnadaya film that has stayed with me. No, you can't say that. Every Telugu Telugu person would be proud of that, you know, movie. What moves me about Ace is how beautifully it captures the tragedy of a gifted artist whose devotion to art is not matched by success in life. Through Balakrishna, portrayed brilliantly by Kamal Hassan, the film explores unfulfilled dreams, missed opportunities, and the quiet loneliness that often accompanies greatness. Directed with remarkable sensitivity by K. Vishwana and enriched by the music of Eli Raja. Sadhara Sangamam lingers because it's not just about dance, it's about time, sacrifice, and the bittersweet gap between artistic excellence and personal fulfillment. It leaves behind a feeling of tenderness, melancholy that remains long after the film ends.

SPEAKER_01 12:40

Very well said. Folks, if one's favorite movie has to be judged by how many times someone has seen it, rather I can tell you that Sagara Sangamam would for me be the easy winner. I'm scared to admit how many times I have seen it. I probably see it twice or thrice a year because for me, and the reason why that movie stands out is it is a perfect 10 in so many categories. One of Vishwanath's best directorial movies. In many ways, Shankara Barnam was building towards Sagara Sangamam's epic, the way he has taken it. Kamalhasan believes K Vishwat as his mentor, probably one of Kamal Hasan's finest performances. Peak Jayaprada. Like a 15 out of 10 in terms of just the natural beauty, that song in Mauna Mela Noi. I have watched it a thousand times. He began as a sound engineer in Wahini Studios, so he had the opportunity to learn cinema from the inside out. And for the next 25 years, before even Shankara Barnam was released, he had already built a body of work that established him as someone who believed that cinema could be there not just for entertainment. And his films were not just arthouse films that played to empty halls. So many of them were super duper hits. They filled cinema theaters, won multiple awards while carrying great social messages. So the partnership between K Viswanath and Eididhanagi Swarao, in my view, is one of the great creative partnerships in the history of Indian cinema. And Telugu audiences by then definitely deserved more than the typical formula. So five national awards, the Padmasri, and then he won the Dadasah Falke Award, which is given to the for his contributions to Indian cinema, the highest honor in Indian cinema. He won the Dadasab Falke in 2016. And rather one of the most interesting tidbits is the movie comes out on February 2nd, 1980, and K Vishona Garu passes away on February 2nd, 2023. 43 years to the day after Shankara Varnam was released. So some things cannot be explained. They just have to be felt. So rather, clearly he was making a lot of movies that were different from the ones he was making around him. Classical music, the industry was already starting to go into pop. Social complexity when there is movies wanted, story simplicity and villains, unconventional stories, but was still printing money. And he kept succeeding every single time. So what do you think was K. Vishwanad's secret sauce?

SPEAKER_05 16:21

I think K Vishwanad succeeded because he never made films about classical music or dance. He made films about people. Beneath the cultural setting were universal emotions, love, loss, dignity, aspiration, and sacrifice. He trusted audiences to connect with sincere storytelling rather than form loss. So while his films look different from everything around them, their emotional core was deeply relatable. That is why they worked. Not despite being unconventional, but because they were authentic. For example, take Swati Batyam. This movie tells the story of Srivaya, an innocent and kind-hearted man with a cognitive disability, who marries Lalita, a young widow, to give her dignity and acceptance in society. Despite being criticism from villagers who oppose widow remarriage, they build a loving family and a happy life together. The film highlights compassion, humanity, and the courage to challenge social prejudices.

SPEAKER_01 17:30

Beautifully said, Rather. Beautifully said. The name Kalatapaswi is just perfect for Mr. Vishwanad. All right, let's get into the movie. I want to rather break this into two parts. Before the interval, Shankara Burnam essentially tells the story of two people whose words should never have intersected and what happens when they do. So Shankara Shastri, a widower, a father, one of the great Carnatic singers of his generation, a man of extraordinary compassion. There's a scene in the movie where a young group of young men are mocking classical music, but he doesn't rebuke them, he challenges them, he teaches them the importance of music deserving respect. That is the kind of heart he has. That's him. And then there is Tulesi. The story, the daughter of a prostitute born into a world that in many ways has already decided her destiny. But she's such a devout fan of Shankara Shastri. She admires him with a purity that really has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with devotion. And especially that scene, one morning when Tuleshi comes across Shastri teaching his daughter on a riverbank. Right? She she hears him singing, she's thrilled by it, she begins to dance, she gets completely lost in the music. What's the song? Sariga. That one. Beautiful, beautiful. So she admires him. She's watching him sing that song. She gets completely lost. And then she comes to her senses and she sees that he's seeing her, and she's just terrified. She expects him to rebuke her, but he appreciates her sincerity. And he continues to sing that. And so that is that is the moment between them. The single, that single moment of grace on a riverbank. I feel like that is the first big moment in the movie. Rather, when you think about that riverbank scene, what comes to mind?

SPEAKER_05 20:25

As a child, I couldn't understand why that little girl stood in the cold water shivering, Shankar Shastri's daughter. She was practicing music there. When I asked my father, he explained that it was a traditional discipline believed to strengthen one's singing and concentration. And then came the moment that truly mesmerized me, Manju Pargavi dancing to the Swaras of Shankar Shastri. The way he continues singing for her and the way she responds, dancing with pure joy, like a peacock in the rain, creates something magical. When she finally bows and touches his feet, the emotion is overwhelming. That's the beauty of Shankar Abharana.

SPEAKER_01 21:08

Brilliantly said, Radha. Such an amazing and memorable scene. Okay, so their worlds collide again later in the train. Tulesi is running away because her mom is trying to sell her to a landlord. She hides in Shastri's compartment, her mother finds her, and then publicly in front of everyone accuses Shastri of eloping with her daughter. But before that, when Shankar Shastri takes Tulesi to that event that where he's going to be singing, Handy comes off the train. You thought that was a terrific scene when he alights from the train, right? Why?

SPEAKER_05 21:51

Yeah. In this scene, Kyagaraja Kriti plays in the background as Shankar Shastri alights from the train, accompanied by Tulsi. Watching them both coming alight in the tray, Gopalam Damridangam player wears a sarcastic smile as the lyrics of the Kriti mirror his thoughts at that moment. To him, the sight confirms his cynical belief that even Shankar Shastri, a man of lofty principles and spiritual devotion, is not immune to worldly attractions and has become captivated by a woman's beauty. The beauty and subtle irony of this scene can be fully appreciated only by those familiar with the Tyagara Jakriti playing in the background as its lyrics reflect Gopalam's thoughts at that very moment.

SPEAKER_01 22:58

And another genius of K Viswana Radha, especially in this movie, is he expects us to have some understanding because they're not actually singing, it's only the music of the Tyagara Jagriti that's playing in the background. So as the audience, we have to connect the dots. We have to play the song in our heads and then understand the meaning of what exactly Vishunadh was trying to convey. An absolute genius scene, no doubt. The next pivotal scene is when the landlord assaults Tulesi and she kills him.

SPEAKER_05 23:40

Please allow me to clarify this point. Tulasi does not kill the Jaminda because he assaulted her. She kills him after he insults her revered guru. This act underscores the depth of her admiration, devotion, and respect for Shankar Sastri, whose honor she values above her own personal grievances.

SPEAKER_01 24:02

What a brilliant scene. And then Shastri defends her at her trial, she's freed, but she's homeless and shamed. Shastri takes her in, and the rumors start to begin. Society thinks there is something going on between them. But again, it doesn't matter what the world thinks. It only matters what these two people choose to believe. Shamed, Tulesi leaves, the interval arrives. And then after the interval, the movie progresses forward, I think by about 10 years or so. Classical music has declined, pop music has risen, Shankar Shastri has lost his audience, his comfortable life, his place in the world. And Tulesi has this kid, Shankaram, a 10-year-old son, born out of that assault. But she has a dream for him, and that also talks about how parents have dreams and aspirations for their children, no matter what their situation or lot in life is. And this is where I think the title finds its true meaning. Sankara Baranam, the jewel of Shankara. In Hindu tradition, Lord Shiva wears this venomous snake as his ornament, Shankara's Abharanam. And I think that snake, the born of poison, transformed into something sacred by its proximity to the divine, is this subtext around the movie. So Tulisi wants her son to become Shastri's Abharanam to be transformed to carry the music forward. And there's a great scene where the son enters the household as a servant. Gradually he becomes Shankarashastri's protege. And Tulesi is watching all this from a distance. In the entire movie, there is no dialogue or conversation between Shankara Shastri and Tulesi. Again, just a genius move. She's never revealing herself. She's never asking for recognition. So towards the end, at Sharda's wedding concert, Shastri suffers this heart attack, mid-performance. The student takes over and completes the song. And one, Shastri is overwhelmed by this pride and fulfillment, realizing that his spirit lives on. But two, he recognizes who the child is. And he accepts the child and he connects all the dots because he he sees Tulesi in the backdrop. And then, in my view, one of the most deeply symbolic moments in Telugu cinema, he removes his abharanam, the Gandhapinderum, the sacred ornament bestowed upon him as an honor, and he places it on the boy. So having done that, he breathes his last, Tulashi rushes on stage, she sees Sasri gone, the man she has revered her entire life, she collapses at his feet in grief and devotion. That is the whole film that the music lives on. So rather, question for you that climax scene, the Ganda Penderum, Shastri putting it on the young boy. Why has that scene grown on you so much over time?

SPEAKER_05 27:25

You realize it isn't just an ending, it's a profoundly moving act of recognition and gratitude. The Gandapenderum is not merely an honor being bestowed. It symbolizes the survival of a tradition that many had dismissed. And when Tulasi falls at the feet of Shankar Shastri, it's not an act of submission, it is a culmination of years of devotion, sacrifice, and unwavering faith in both the man and the art he represents. When we are younger, we admire the emotion of the scene. As we grow older, we begin to appreciate everything that led to it. The misunderstandings, the social stigma, the loneliness, and the quiet dignity with which both the characters endured them. That's why the climax becomes more powerful over time. It starts feeling like a tribute to a guru, to a disciple, and to the timeless bond between art and devotion.

SPEAKER_01 28:23

Absolutely. Brilliantly said, Rather. And uh you rewatched the movie recently. What hit you that maybe you were not expecting? How was it different this time?

SPEAKER_05 28:36

What stood out to me was the generosity of the character of Shankar Shastri. After classical music lost its popularity, he fell into financial hardship and could no longer sustain himself through concerts. When he happened to meet the very who had contributed to his loss of respect and standing in society, yet instead of holding the grudge against it, Shankar Sasri responded with compassion. Realizing that the other musician was also struggling to make ends meet, he willingly shared a portion of the money he had just borrowed. That moment revealed the depth of his character.

SPEAKER_01 29:48

Beautifully said, rather, beautifully said. Alright, let's uh let's get to the best part of the movie, the music itself by KV Mahadevin. So K. V. Mahadevin composed the soundtrack. But what he understood is that this film did not lead a lot of background music. It really needed Carnatic music, placed at the center of the film, not as a peripheral, not as a decoration, but as the soul of the movie. And apparently, Mangalampalli Balamudakrishnagaru was who was the greatest living Carnatic vocalist of his time, was the original choice for playback. And then he declined. So KV Mahadevan turned to SPB. SPB had never sung classical music of this complexity. He was in his early 30s. And rather, when you hear SPB sing for Somayajalu's character Shankara Shastri, the voice is completely different than anything SPB had ever done before or after. So the voice is so different that you forget who is doing the playback because it literally, especially in that Shankara Nadapar Isari Rav song, it literally feels like you're hearing Shankar Shastri himself. Clearly, one of SPB's greatest accomplishments, he won his first national award. And when I was re-watching the movie, rather, if you watch the opening credits again, there is a very clear, separate recognition for SPB where he says, Nepatya Ganam, na Sodarudu, Chiranjivi, SP Bala Subramanya Muku Naku, na Asi Sulu, K. Vishwanat. So even before the movie comes out, Vishwanath had recognized that SPB had done something just remarkable with the movie. One of the greatest musical soundtracks in the history of cinema. Rather, I apologized at the beginning. I'm going to apologize here. We can do a complete two-hour podcast on every single song in this movie. The musical soundtrack itself can be a separate podcast. We are going to keep this a little short because it's not a conventional soundtrack. It's a confluence of centuries of tradition and melody. There are ancient Karnatic compositions. There is Tyagaraja, Badra Chalaramadasu, Mysur, Vasudevachar, Sadasiva Brahmendra. These compositions sit alongside original lyrics written by the great Vedur Sundaramurti. There is a poem by Kali Dasa Appears. And Vedur even adds his own lyrics around some of Tyagaraja's original kirtanas, like in Samajavaragamana. So he's working within the classical tradition rather than just replacing it. So we'll walk through a few songs. Rather, since you're trained in Karnataka music, can I ask you to please sing a line as we go through each of these? And then just share a little bit about what they mean to you. The first one is Unkaranadhanus. It is eight, it's a long song, eight minutes. I know. It's the devotional opening of the film. SPB's voice establishing himself as the world of Sankara Sastri before Shankara Sashri utters any dialogues. Pure raga Shankarabarna and pure devotion.

SPEAKER_05 34:23

Before she suddenly realizes she is in a public place and gently restrains her aj to dance.

SPEAKER_01 34:29

Yeah, you can't you can't stop yourself from from uh trying to dance to that one. The next song is the classical concert centerpiece in the first half, which is Rakam Thanam Palavi. So this performance showcases Shankar Shastri's mastery over music in the first half. Again, this song is long too, about six minutes, but this is SPB at just the peak of his classical range.

SPEAKER_05 35:45

But here she appears almost ethereal, like an apsara brought to life, or a temple sculpture set into motion. Her dance completely dominates the screen. Every gesture feels filled with devotion and grace. Dressed in elegant costumes and traditional temple jewelry, her presence is both stunning and unforgettable.

SPEAKER_01 36:07

I thousand percent agree. And then we get into the song Shankara Nada Sarira Para. I will not even attempt to hum this. I am disqualified, I have no skills to do so. But this song is the philosophical heart of the film. This is the song that articulates everything that the film believes that music is not just for entertainment, it is really devotion, and it is the path to the divine.

SPEAKER_05 36:58

As his emotions intensify, nature itself seems to respond in sympathy. Thunder rolls, lightning flashes, and heavy rain pours down, mirroring the turmoil within him.

SPEAKER_01 37:11

Oh, this is an unbelievable song right before the interval. The next song we'll cover is Samajavara Gamana. So this is a Tyagaraja Kriti, one of the most beloved compositions in Karnatic traditions. Now, for this song, Vayturi Improviser. So he's written some lyrics woven into the original, and then this is a Janaki SPB special. They're both together in this. And uh Chandramohan and Nirmalama, like the mother son, they bring a little bit of levity to what is otherwise uh very heavy on the emotion, heavy on the music scene, and they both perform their roles so admirably in the movie. Okay, the next song is the is the closing devotional, and then the lyrics Veturi at his most transcendent, and SPB just surrendering himself to the song. Absolutely. And we cannot talk about Sankarabanam without talking about Vaiturisand Ramurti because the lyrics for some of these songs are just absolute classics. I talked about uh when we did the Get Anjali episode, rather, about my family's connection to Veturi Garu. We are related to him, we know the family. Uh, we all grew up knowing exactly who he was, the greatest Telugu lyricist of his generation. But one of the stories about Shankara Burnam is that my dad was posted in Chennai, and he and Vetur Sundar Ramur Tigaru had a special bond. And so they used to meet. The film industry still hadn't fully moved to Hyderabad yet, it was still based in Chennai. So Vaiturigaru and my dad would meet. And my dad tells the story that Veturigaru was not well and was in the hospital when writing the lyrics for this movie, but he was so completely engrossed in writing the songs for the movie, and uh right there from his hospital bed, he composed some of the lyrics for the movie, just great to know him.

SPEAKER_05 40:52

And Barat, what about you? What is your favorite song or moment from this soundtrack?

SPEAKER_01 40:57

So we did not cover this song, rather, which is the famous Bro, chewa reverura. But the reason I love this is when it happens, Sankarishastri says, He lectures this guy, they come home. For me, the most amazing line in the movie where he says, Ardrata ante bha shake. And then he sings that song, and you then really understand what Ardrata means.

SPEAKER_05 42:20

This song holds a special place in my musical journey, Bharat. Just like Tulisi's son in that movie, he learnt the Swaras of this Kriti by asking Shankar Shastri's daughter to write on a book and paper. And similarly, I was learning this song with a notebook and pen by my side, eagerly waiting for the song to be played on the radio on Vividabharati.

SPEAKER_01 42:45

Yeah, no, no YouTube to just go back and forth and and write the whole song down back then. But that's why Ratha we we all love the music so much because he nailed it. He like he said, it tries to explain those feelings for which words don't exist unless they are composed in the form of a kriti or a raga. So well said. Folks, probably the greatest soundtrack, musical soundtrack in the history of Telugu cinema. Or I'd rather let's do some favorite scenes from the movie. I mentioned this earlier in the episode. One of my favorite scenes is when Alu Ramalingaya, who is a lawyer and Shankarashri's best friend, and Shankar Shastri has taken Tulesi in, the rumors are spreading in town. Alu Ramalinga's wife calls him aside and starts poking him, asking him around you know what's really going on.

SPEAKER_06 43:47

And then Alu Ramalinga says, Again, I mean, the genius of Kviswan.

SPEAKER_01 44:00

Sending such a good message through an ordinary man defending his friend. It's not a big speech, it's not an explanation. He just delivers it in a way where it's just simply spoken.

SPEAKER_05 44:16

As I mentioned mentioned earlier, Tulisi comes across Shastri teaching his daughter singing on a riverbank, thrilled by his uh Shastri's singing. She begins dancing on the riverbank, oblivious of her surroundings. Shastri sees her, appreciates her sincerity, and continues singing.

SPEAKER_01 44:41

It is an absolutely amazing scene because there isn't a lot of cinematic touches given to it. It is in the riverbank, Tulesi is singing in the background. There are no sets, just truly beautiful, beautiful scene. My next favorite is Shastri speaking to Tulesi when he has taken her in and she's not helping her around the house. And then you see Tulesi's expression when she realizes that he sees her just as a fellow human being. That expression, rather, is just worth a thousand words. And then her expression, when she hears that, is just worth re-watching over and over again. Just a great scene.

SPEAKER_05 45:48

One of my favorite scenes is when a group of boys who are fond of Western pop music mock Shankar Shastri and his devotion to classical music. In response, he challenges and effortlessly sings their style of song, proving his mastery. And that no genre should be insulted or looked down upon. This scene beautifully reflects the film's core message: unity in music and respect for all art forms.

SPEAKER_08 46:34

But the dialogues he says when he says, Music has no language barriers.

SPEAKER_01 46:54

It is the eternal river of nectar. And that is the film's core message, stated again and again through different characters, different situations, until it just becomes the very air that the film breathes.

SPEAKER_05 47:10

Towards the end of the movie, as the Tulasi's son completes the song, Shankar Shastri, overwhelmed with pride and fulfillment, realizes that the spirit of his music will live on. In a deeply symbolic moment, he removes his Abharinam, the sacred Gandhapindiram. Once he bestowed upon him as an honor and a lifelong part of his identity and places it on the boy, accepting him as his true musical heir. Having finally witnessed the continuation of his art and values, Shastri breathes his last peacefully.

SPEAKER_01 48:09

Beautifully said, Rather. Because just the dedication and devotion that went into every frame, Kvishwanat, KV Madhavan, Veduri, SPB, Manjubar Gavi, Somayajalu, it is visible and jumps out in every single moment. You feel it, you cannot explain it rationally. You just you just feel it. And Kviswunat Garu, as long as there are people who carry this film in their hearts, you live on to. Radha, thank you so much. Thank you for your love for the film, for your knowledge of this music. You are our first guest host on this podcast. Thank you for singing for us today, for sharing memories that only someone who has lived with this film for decades could share. You came as a fan of Shankara Barnam, a fan of our podcast after the interval, and you gave this episode something that no research, no script, no preparation could have given it. You gave it your all, you gave it your heart. Thank you.

SPEAKER_05 49:31

I feel truly blessed to have been born in a Telugu-speaking land. It fills me with immense pride to think of the visionary directors, legendary musicians, and gifted singers who have created works that transcend cinema and become part of our lives. Their contributions feel nothing short of divine, a blessing for the generations to cherish.

SPEAKER_01 49:55

Absolutely. Beautifully said. This has been one of the most special conversations we've had on this podcast. And I hope for every listener who has watched Shankara Burnham, it felt a little like sitting with someone who truly understands why this film matters. Rather, thank you again. Folks, I hope you enjoyed the podcast. Next week, Neilma is back, and we are doing something we have been looking forward to since episode one. Our first episode about the big B, Mr. Butchen himself, a son, a father, an empire, and a score that has been 30 years in the making. Come ready. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions for movies that we should feature, please reach out to us on After the Interval podcast at gmail.com. I'm Bharat, this is Radha, and thank you for listening to another episode of After the Interval. Alvida, thank you. See you all next week.