Annakili heralded the arrival of a new phenomenon in Tamil cinema — maestro Ilaiyaraaja. The film was based on the real-life story of Meena, a midwife from Pappanaickenpatti in Madurai.
“She was raped and murdered after being called to attend a childbirth, and her tragic story later found a place in local ballads and folk narratives,” said R. Selvaraj, the writer of the film. He was instrumental in helping Mr. Ilaiyaraaja secure the opportunity to compose music for Annakili, which was released on May 14, 1976. In those days, Pappanaickenpatti, near T. Kallupatti, was difficult to access. Visitors had to inform the villagers in advance so that a bullock cart could be sent to fetch them. The sister of Selvaraj’s grandfather, Kothandarama Naidu, lived there.
“She had a large house, and the terrace was used for drying paddy. The terrace had holes connected to a storage room below. Women drying the paddy would push the grain with their feet into these holes so that it could be collected downstairs. It was while watching them work that I heard songs in praise of Meena, who had been raped and murdered. They would sing that the paddy would have dried faster had Meena been alive,” recalled Mr. Selvaraj.
Though he originally wrote the story under the title Maruthuvachi, it was later renamed Annakili for its film adaptation. In the film, Meena became Annam, a character portrayed almost as a flawless epic heroine. In the climactic scene, she is lured into the room of theatre owner Azhagappan, who attempts to rape her. Annam later succumbs to burn injuries. A voracious reader of Russian literature and a keen observer of human life, Mr. Selvaraj had his first short story, Inaikodugal, published in Malaimurasu. The story, about a sex worker, won the first prize and earned him a remuneration of ₹10, when he was just 11-years-old.
He said the love affair between Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky and Anna Snitkina, who was 25 years younger than him, inspired the theme of Mudhal Mariyathai, which starred Sivaji Ganesan and Radha in the film adaptation of the story.
It was communist leader and Mr. Selvaraj’s uncle N. Sankaraiah, who first recognised his literary talent. Before being taken to Salem Central Prison, Sankaraiah visited Selvaraj’s residence, read his stories and urged his elder brother Rajamanickam to send the young writer to Chennai.
The story also caught the attention of filmmaker Bharathiraja, who was then working as a health inspector. “He wrote to me appreciating the story, and that marked the beginning of our pen friendship. He still says it deserves to be made into a film,” Selvaraj said.
“When Bharathiraja narrated the story to Ilaiyaraaja and his brothers, they told him about our friendship,” he added.
A native of Madurai, Mr. Selvaraj’s close association with the communist movement introduced him to Pavalar Varadarajan and his brothers — Ilaiyaraaja, Gangai Amaran, and Bhaskar — who had by then become popular across Tamil Nadu for their politically charged musical performances.
Their friendship endured even after they moved to Chennai in search of opportunities in the film industry. Mr. Selvaraj, who worked as an assistant to producer and lyricist Panchu Arunachalam and others, introduced Mr. Ilaiyaraaja and his brothers to him. Despite discouragement from several quarters, Panchu Arunachalam gave them the opportunity to compose music for the film.
Ironically, the original file containing the story and dialogues did not survive until the film went into production. “When we were struggling even to buy rice, Gangai Amaran suggested selling some old papers to a scrap dealer. I objected, but he said the story would remain in my memory. He took the file, sold the papers, and returned with rice for us to cook. He would cook the rice and add chillies for flavour. That was how we survived in those days,” recalled Mr. Selvaraj, who later wrote stories for several acclaimed films, including Kavikuyil, Kadalora Kavithaigal, Puthiya Vaarpugal, Pudhumai Penn, Pudhu Nellu Pudhu Naathu, and Alaipayuthey.
Selvaraj recalled how, during their days in Madurai, Mr. Ilaiyaraaja would mesmerise listeners by singing songs from Raj Kapoor’s films with remarkable feeling and precision.
“We shared a common love for great music,” Mr. Selvaraj said, recalling the warning he gave Ilaiyaraaja before he left for Chennai.
Though major producers such as D. Ramanaidu and actress K.R. Vijaya admired the story of Annakili, they felt it was a very small story to be adapted into a feature film.
“Rama Naidu wanted me to rewrite the heroine Annam as a wealthy woman. It was then that I met Panchu Arunachalam again, and he expressed interest in producing the film. I narrated the story to his brother Subbu, and he liked it very much,” Mr. Selvaraj recalled.
As preparations for the film gathered pace, producer and lyricist Panchu Arunachalam asked Mr. Selvaraj, who was working as an assistant, to bring Ilaiyaraaja and his brothers to meet him.
“We stayed in a lodge opposite the Shiva-Vishnu Temple. Panchu Arunachalam expected well-dressed young men, but those who arrived reflected the poverty we were living in. He was unimpressed and seemed to be searching for a polite way to send them away. Then Mr. Ilaiyaraaja said he had composed tunes for two songs and insisted that we listen to him. Tapping rhythmically on the table, he sang Machana Paartheengala and Annakili Unnai Theduthe. Panchu Arunachalam, who had worked with Kannadasan on countless memorable songs, was spellbound,” he said.
While some among the brothers and family members were unconvinced about Mr. Ilaiyaraaja’s future, Panchu Arunachalam remained firm in his faith.
He reportedly said that he had seen many music directors, but Ilaiyaraaja was something extraordinary.
“Even during the recording, there were conspiracies. At one point, there was a power cut and the songs could not be recorded. But Ilaiyaraaja overcame every hurdle and went on to scale extraordinary heights,” Mr. Selvaraj added.
























