In 1958, M.G. Ramachandran needed a song for a prison sequence in his film Nadodi Mannan. The scene called for something that would stir audiences out of resignation—an anthem against apathy, disguised as a lullaby in reverse. He first turned to Kannadasan, the reigning titan of Tamil film lyrics. Kannadasan could not deliver what M.G.R. had in mind. The actor then called on a 28-year-old communist from Thanjavur district, a man who had never been to school and had worked 16 odd jobs before finding his way into cinema.

Pattukkottai Kalyanasundaram wrote “Thoongathe thambi thoongathe” (Do not sleep, younger brother), and the song became the defining anthem of M.G.R.’s political rise. Years later, as Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, M.G.R. famously said: “I do not know what the three legs of the Chief Minister’s chair are. But the fourth leg, I am certain, is Pattukottai Kalyanasundaram.”

The lyricist did not live to hear that tribute. Kalyanasundaram died on October 8, 1959, at the age of 29, of a cerebral haemorrhage following a botched sinus surgery at a government hospital in Madras. He left behind a wife, an infant son, and over 250 songs written across 58 films in barely five years. In terms of volume, this is modest compared to Tamil lyricists who have written over 5,000 songs. What makes Kalyanasundaram’s work endure is that his lines did not arrive from a distance. He wrote about hunger because he had known it. He wrote about labour because he had done it—as a farmer, cattle herder, salt pan worker, machine operator, and mango seller, among other trades. When asked once by a journalist to sum up his life, he said he had gone from walking on foot, to travelling by bus and train, and finally to travelling in taxis.

The government of India later recognised him alongside Subramania Bharathi and Bharathidasan as one of the three foremost Tamil poets of the 20th century. In 1993, the Tamil Nadu government nationalised his literary works. But the surest measure of his afterlife is more ordinary: when farmers in Tamil Nadu take to the streets, they still invoke his line—“Engum vivasaya sangam amaithathathil angam vagithiduvom” (Let us take part in forming farmers’ unions everywhere). In an increasingly unequal world, the songs of a man who died at 29 carry the weight of unfinished business.

A political education in song

Kalyanasundaram was born on April 13, 1930, in Thanjavur district to Arunachalam and Visalatchi, both farmers. His political education began early. From the age of eight, he began singing songs written by his elder brother, Ganapathisundaram, for the Self-Respect Movement. Campaigning through theatre and songs was integral to his activism.

During the 1952 general election, Kalyanasundaram campaigned for the Communist Party of India (CPI) by singing at election meetings across Thanjavur district, in the regions of Mannargudi, Pattukkottai, Peravurani, and Aranthangi.

He joined the Sakthi Nadaga Sabha, a theatre troupe run by the playwright Krishnaswamy. In its acclaimed production, Kaviyin Kanavu (“A Poet’s Dream”), written by S.D. Sundaram, the celebrated role of the Rajaguru, was originally portrayed by actor M.N. Nambiar. As the role brought him widespread recognition, Nambiar made the transition to Tamil cinema, and Kalyanasundaram took over the part.

Mannar Mannan, a Tamil scholar and son of Bharathidasan, the Puratchi Kavigar (Revolutionary Poet), happened to watch Kalyanasundaram’s performance when the play was staged in Pondicherry. Impressed, he sought him out and introduced him to his father. Kalyanasundaram had already come prepared with letters of recommendation from Anaikaadu David and Pattukottai Azhagiri, hoping to work with the eminent Dravidian poet.

Kalyanasundaram did not have a formal education in literature. He worked at Bharathidasan’s Kuyil magazine. His direct involvement with peasant unions, CPI activities, and theatre acquainted him with the harsh realities of life at an early stage. He subsequently joined Shivaji Nataka Mandram and Seva Stage, the drama troupes owned by actor Shivaji Ganesan and theatre artist S.V. Sahasranamam, respectively, before finding a break in songwriting in cinema.

In 1953, Kalyanasundaram’s friendship with Malayalam actor T.K. Balachandran exposed him to the Kerala People’s Arts Club’s (KPAC) popular drama Ningalenne Communistakki (You Made Me a Communist).

Kalyanasundaram’s poem “Nandu Seidha Thondu”, published in Janasakthi in 1955, tells the story of a crab in an agricultural field that dug through the bunds to ensure equal distribution of water to all fields. According to multiple sources, the poem was inspired by a real-life incident. If the imaginary crab could articulate, it would have told Kalyanasundaram that he made it a communist.

From the fields to the film set

His first film as a lyricist was Maheswari (1955), with five songs written by him. He did not wait to test the waters; his very first effort carried strong pro-poor messaging.

Kalyanasundaram’s life and politics were inseparable. He openly aligned himself with the CPI. When he wrote songs for films such as Rangoon Radha (1956) and Pudhaiyal (1957)—both penned by M. Karunanidhi—and Nadodi Mannan (1958), starring M.G. Ramachandran, all associated with the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK), communist leader Manali Kandasami wondered if Kalyanasundaram would switch over to the DMK. When this concern was conveyed to him, Kalyanasundaram responded that once he moved his family out of poverty, within two years’ time, he would personally campaign on the streets for the communist party full time.

Kalyanasundaram’s songs played a part in shaping M.G. Ramachandran’s emergence as a leader who articulated the DMK’s political ideals. M.G.R. was impressed by the poet from their first interaction; the matinee idol created an entirely new sequence to accommodate Kalyanasundaram’s “Kaadu velanjenna machan” song in Nadodi Mannan. On October 16, 1958, the DMK celebrated the film’s success with a public function at Tamukkam Ground in Madurai. An estimated 2,00,000 people attended. M.G.R. was taken in a procession on a chariot drawn by four horses and garlanded by party leader C.N. Annadurai.

Like the writer Rahul Sankrityayan, who was associated with the All India Kisan Sabha, Kalyanasundaram engaged with the peasant movement in Tamil Nadu in his short lifetime. The play Kannin Manigal, for which he wrote the songs, was staged at the Tamil Nadu Farmers’ Union Conference in Dindigul in 1954.

His writings

Kalyanasundaram’s respect for Bharathidasan was such that whenever he set out to write, he would first draw the customary pillaiyar suzhi (an auspicious mark) at the top of the page and, beneath it, write “Vaazhga Bharathidasan” (Long live Bharathidasan). This habit, at times, led some to question his stance on faith and belief.

In the song “Dharmamenbaar” from Bhim Singh’s 1958 film Pathi Bakthi, he wrote: “Kadavul iruppadhum illai enbathum kavaikku udhavaadha verum pechu, kanji killadhaar kavalai neengave karudha vendiyadhai marandhaachu.” (Whether God exists or not is mere pointless talk; we have forgotten the true concern: the hunger of those who do not even have a bowl of gruel.)

Author K. Jeevabharathi, whose book Kaalamarindhu kooviya seval remains an important text for understanding Kalyanasundaram’s lyrical mind, writes that the spirit of the Russian revolutionary Vladimir Lenin lived through the works of the lyricist. Lenin is said to have remarked: “Art belongs to the people. It must have its deepest roots in the broad mass of workers.” These words found a strong echo in Kalyanasundaram’s writing.

His “Kaadu velanjenna” song is a striking example. In the sequence, a couple discusses agricultural production and labour conditions. The woman questions why the working poor, despite their hard labour, continue to face hunger. Her partner responds by pointing to the accumulation of profits by employers as the root cause of poverty—a plain-spoken critique of economic inequality.

His songs did more than advance socialist thought; they called upon people to act. In the song “Chinna Payale” from the M.G.R.-starrer Arasilankumari (released posthumously in 1961), his words urge the younger generation to work towards ending the cruelties of private property.

Lyricist Yugabharathi told Frontline that the tradition of recording the struggles of the working class in film songs began with the poet Udumalai Narayana Kavi. “Udumalai can be seen as a precursor to Kalyanasundaram,” he said.

Building on Udumalai’s legacy, and drawing more directly from Marxist ideas, Kalyanasundaram came into close contact with communist leader P. Jeevanandham. This association trained him in writing with a dialectical understanding of history.

Kalyanasundaram’s lyric form, though rich in rhyme scheme, alliteration, and other poetic devices, did not confine itself to any established model, according to Yugabharathi. It remained rooted in the language of the people. “Chinna payale chinna payale” and “Thoongathe thambi” are strong examples.

Kalyanasundaram married Gouravambal in 1957. In her interview with Jeevabharathi after his death, Gouravambal said the lyricist used to fondly sing his “Thulli thulli alaigal ellaam” song for her, from the film Thalai koduthaan thambi (1959). In another instance, at a baby shower function within the family, Kalyanasundaram playfully asked Gouravambal and his brother’s wife to write a song about the event, which he could use for the Gemini Ganesan-starrer Kalyana Parisu (1959). Of the two lines Gouravambal had written, the poet used the first as a peg and wrote the full song, “Akkalukku valaikappu”.

Fifteen films bearing Kalyanasundaram’s songs were released in 1959, the year of his death. Among them, Thanga Padhumai, starring Shivaji Ganesan, alone had nine songs.

The legacy

After Kalyanasundaram, no popular lyricist in Tamil film music was able to establish themselves as a flagbearer of Left politics. A balanced reading would be that Kalyanasundaram himself did not write songs exclusively on communism; he engaged with a variety of themes beyond ideology. The poet also lived and worked during a period when Tamil cinema itself was moving towards politics. Communist struggles, both electorally and on the ground, in feudal regions like Thanjavur, were at their peak.

Tamil cinema has passed through the 1980s and 1990s, a period when pro-feudal, pro-caste songs became widely popular and set the political ground for caste-based mobilisations. At the same time, songs like “Poradada” from Alai Osai (1985), scored by Ilaiyaraaja and written by Ilaiya Bharathi, served as an antidote. Like Kalyanasundaram, Ilaiyaraaja’s musical journey also had communist roots, in the Pavalar Brothers troupe.

Progressive songs have never existed across all films at all times; they have been confined to films with specific political or social themes. In general, films carry only a subtle layer of politics; overtly agitational or protest-oriented messaging has remained rare in songs.

The Vaanampadi poetry movement in the 1970s promoted progressive poetry, but only a few from it, like Na. Kamarasan and Mu. Metha wrote song lyrics for films. Tamil Nadu Progressive Writers and Artists Association and People’s Art and Literary Association produced many popular political songs outside Tamil cinema in the 1980s and 1990s.

On the lyrics in contemporary Tamil cinema, Yugabharathi said: “Most songs have, in fact, become largely apolitical. Yet, everything that manages to draw attention remains inherently political; that is the biggest irony.” Films made by Pa. Ranjith, Mari Selvaraj, Vetrimaaran, and a few others, he added, actively use songs as vehicles for political messaging.

The view is that as consumerism grows, people become more focused on themselves, creating the impression that society is drifting away from social concerns. Some lyricists still go against this trend.

Yugabharathi himself has worked in a number of political films, including Joker, Jai Bhim, Karnan, and Asuran. Lyricist Kabilan captured working-class sensibilities in “Chennai vadachennai” in Madras (2014) and “Olagam oruvanukka” in Kabali (2016). Songwriter and rapper Arivu, who has frequently collaborated with Ranjith in film and independent music, has penned popular anti-caste, anti-Hindutva numbers such as “Urimaiyai meetpom”, “Kalla Mouni”, “Anti-Indian”, and “Theevira Vyadhi”. Lyricist Umadevi’s songs carry Buddhist influences.

According to national award-winning filmmaker Raju Murugan, film songs of any given era mirror the social climate shaped by the political movements gaining momentum at the time. The lyricists today, barring a few, he said, do not have sociopolitical views or direct engagement with the common people as Kalyanasundaram did.

Raju Murugan pointed out that the influence of Left thought in art can be seen in both the Dravidian movement and Dalit Ambedkarite artists.

In that sense, Kalyanasundaram continues to be a model for how a lyricist could function with political awareness and purpose. What sets his work apart is that he did not write with sympathy for the oppressed; he wrote as their voice.

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