Latest news with #M.L.Vasanthakumari
Economic Times
27-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Economic Times
Malayalam star was betrayed by all the men she loved. Died all alone at 53
Agencies Malayalam star Srividya died lonely at the age of 53 Srividya, an iconic figure in South Indian cinema, captivated audiences with her grace, charisma, and emotional depth. While her presence on the silver screen evoked admiration and reverence, her personal life was marked by pain, heartbreak, and an unfulfilled longing for love. Beneath her luminous performances was a woman who yearned for sincere affection—love that she was ready to give unconditionally but tragically never received in return. Despite being cherished by fans and respected by peers, she lived a life burdened by betrayal, loneliness, and sorrow until the on July 24, 1953, in Chennai, Srividya came from a family deeply entrenched in the performing arts. Her mother, M. L. Vasanthakumari, was an acclaimed Carnatic vocalist, and her father, 'Vikatam' Krishnamurthy, was a Tamil actor. Despite her lineage suggesting a future in music, Srividya gravitated toward dance and acting. Her early exposure to classical dance helped her develop expressive facial movements and poised body language—skills that later defined her onscreen magnetism. Srividya began her cinematic journey at just 13, making her debut in the Tamil historical film Thiruvarutchelvar (1967), which featured veterans like Sivaji Ganesan, Savitri, and Gemini Ganesan. It was a modest role, but it ignited a lifelong connection with 1969, at the age of 16, Srividya entered the Malayalam film industry with the movie Chattambikkavala. She was cast opposite Sathyan, a legendary actor who was 57 at the time. Her poise, maturity, and beauty surprised many. The following year, she featured in Kumara Sambhavam, playing the celestial nymph Menaka. Her elegant dance in the song 'Maya Nadana Viharini' garnered widespread appreciation and highlighted her as an emerging her versatility and grace, Srividya swiftly became a sought-after actor in Malayalam, Tamil, and Telugu films. Filmmakers were drawn to her ability to balance glamour with gravitas, and she transitioned seamlessly from one powerful role to another, building a formidable body of work across made Srividya distinct from her contemporaries was her readiness to play characters beyond the conventional mold. While many actresses of her era pursued glamorous leads, Srividya embraced roles that were far more layered—even those where she played older women or secondary characters. Rather than chase stardom, she prioritized the depth and relevance of a like Kattathe Kilikkoodu, Ente Sooryaputhrikku, Innale, Kabooliwala, Aniyathi Pravu, Aaraam Thampuran, and Randam Bhavam featured her in motherly or supporting roles, which she portrayed with incredible emotional depth. Her performances resonated so strongly that audiences frequently remembered her more than the leads. Even on television, she left an indelible impression with her nuanced roles in various serials, maintaining her connection with the audience until her final the height of her career in the early 1970s, Srividya fell in love with Kamal Haasan, who was then a rising star. Their relationship was intense and, by many accounts, genuine. They even considered marriage. However, as Kamal's career took off, he asked Srividya to postpone their plans to tie the knot. She, unwilling to delay her dreams of building a home and family, expressed her desire to move later recalled, during an interview with Kairali TV, that Kamal had visited her home one day. Her mother advised them to wait a few more years, suggesting that both had bright futures and shouldn't rush into a decision they might regret. This advice did not sit well with Kamal, who left abruptly. Soon afterward, he married dancer Vani Ganapathy, and their once-promising relationship ended in silence. Despite the break, Kamal always remained a significant emotional figure in Srividya's her heartbreak, Srividya found comfort in her connection with filmmaker Bharathan. Their relationship, as revealed by screenwriter and Bharathan's friend John Paul on Safari TV's Charithram Enniloode, went beyond societal definitions. It was an intimate, soulful bond that didn't conform to labels like KPAC Lalitha, who eventually married Bharathan, recounted that he often visited her home just to talk to Srividya over the phone since her family disapproved of male callers. Lalitha, who worked with both, revealed that Srividya once confided her doubts about the relationship, citing Bharathan's growing mistrust. Eventually, the two parted ways. Though he later married Lalitha, Bharathan reportedly attempted to reconnect with Srividya—but she distanced herself for emotional turmoil, Srividya crossed paths with George Thomas, a film producer involved with her movie Theekkanal. He appeared attentive, caring, and aligned with her need for emotional security. Desperate to feel loved and hoping to prove to her detractors that she had moved on, she decided to marry him. Despite warnings from her mother and close friends like actor Madhu and veteran performer Manorama, she converted to Christianity and married George in Mumbai. However, Srividya's dream of domestic bliss soon turned into a nightmare. Contrary to his claims, George was not a wealthy film producer but a salaried employee appointed by a chit fund company, Star of Cochin, as a frontman for their film ventures. He had misrepresented himself entirely, using her fame for personal and financial gain. Having realized the deception, Srividya had no choice but to return to work. Offers still came her way, and her performances were consistently appreciated. However, her husband began siphoning off her earnings. Director Alleppey Ashraf once stated that George forged her signatures to access her bank accounts and depleted her if financial exploitation wasn't enough, he also abused her physically and emotionally. Rumors of his infidelity surfaced, further damaging their already crumbling marriage. The arguments between them became frequent and intense. After enduring years of pain and betrayal, Srividya left George and returned to her separation initiated a long and arduous legal battle. Because the marriage had been registered under the Christian Marriage Act, divorce proceedings were complicated. George held on to much of her property and assets, and the case dragged on for 14 years. Srividya eventually won, but the personal toll was immense. She had lost years of her life and most of her emotional compound her misery, her mother—her only close family—passed away during this time. Srividya, already devastated by her failed relationships and a bruising legal fight, now found herself utterly alone. Her relatives, sensing her vulnerability, abandoned her too. Despite all her public acclaim and cinematic triumphs, she had no one to turn to in her most difficult pained Srividya most was not the loss of money or status, but the emotional void. She had always longed for a loving partner, a child, and a peaceful home—experiences she was denied throughout her life. Her own childhood had been devoid of warmth, as her parents were locked in a loveless marriage. She had hoped to create a better life for herself, but fate seemed determined to keep happiness out of dream of settling in America to escape the scars of her past also collapsed when she was diagnosed with cancer. It was an aggressive form of the disease, and as her health deteriorated, so did her hopes. Those who cared for her during this time reported that she would often plead with doctors to end her suffering.
The Hindu
24-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
M.L. Vasanthakumari's melodious voice and innovative approach made her music unforgettable
She came, she sang, she conquered. July 3 marks M.L. Vasanthakumari's (MLV) 97th birth anniversary. It's a good time to look back at my guru and an extraordinary vocalist's life and art — a combination of melody, vidwat and dynamic stage presence. MLV was not only adept at singing both shudha Carnatic ragas such as Thodi and Bhairavi but also desya ragas like Behag or Sindhubhairavi. She may have imbibed this talent from her father vidwan Koothanoor Aiyaswamy Iyer, who was trained in both Carnatic and Hindustani music. Along with her mother Lalithangi, he also specialised in Purandaradasa kritis. MLV followed suit. MLV expanded the repertoire she inherited by adding compositions by Kanaka Dasa (disciple of Purandaradasa) and other Dasa Koota composers. It could be said that the family brought Dasarapadas to the concert stage. Mysore University acknowledged MLV's efforts in this regard by bestowing upon her an honorary doctorate. A versatile vocalist, MLV was trained early on by none other than G.N. Balasubramaniam, who was also a close friend of her father. It was GNB who boldly ushered in a new voice-culture based on Hindustani akaaras and nagaswaram glides (jaarus), and lightning-fast swara clusters (brighas). She carried forward his innovative approach. She was one of the first Carnatic vocalists to sing abhangs. Her kutcheris often felt wholesome with the inclusion of padams, javalis, Tevarams, Tiruppugazh and complex RTPs. She was well known for introducing rare kritis in each and every concert. Rasikas waited with bated breath to hear a new song, alapanas of rare ragas such as Sekarachandrika, Gamansrama, Revathi and Natabhairav, a pallavi in a difficult setting or a Purandaradasa ragamalika. They also enjoyed the tukkadas she presented. MLV was adventurous as a singer. For instance, at the Sangita Kalanidhi concert in 1977 at the Music Academy, she courageously took up a tricky pancha nadai (five varieties of rhythm) pallavi and executed it beautifully. Her singing drew lavish praise even from one of the sharpest critics of the time — Subbudu (P.V. Subramaniam). I began learning from MLV in 1963 at the age of 12. My mother Alamelu Viswanathan took me to her house. The singer was then getting ready for a concert. I was awestruck by akka's (as I used to call her) personality. She was wearing a beautiful silk saree, diamond ear studs and stone-embedded gold bangles. Her long well-oiled hair was neatly braided and adorned with fragrant jasmines. She heard me sing a short kriti, paused for a moment and accepted me as her disciple. My mother was overjoyed. She had a cheerful-casual disposition as a teacher. It was a 27-year-long association between the guru and the sishya. MLV's music was different from that of her contemporaries — D.K. Pattammal and M.S. Subbulakshmi. Though MLV was younger than the other two legends, she rose to great heights and the three were referred to as the 'female trinity of Carnatic music'. They began their career as gramophone-record sensations and gained unprecedented popularity in the early 20th Century. MLV was just 12 when she cut her first vinyl with 'Sarasija nabha murare' (Charukesi , Swathi Tirunal). Later, the trio forayed into singing for the cinema, with M.S. even acting in a few. As for MLV, she sang for the top heroines of the time, including Padmini, who was also her neighbour. Both shared a warm relationship. MLV divided her time among kutcheris, travel and studio recordings. One often saw her practising during her commute or in the little free time she got. Despite her hectic schedule, she was always available for her sishyas, willingly sharing her knowledge and guiding them. MLV's music was three dimensional — she had a great voice, a creative mind and a generous heart. The writer is a well-known Carnatic vocalist.
