He Didn’t Just Compose Music… He Composed My Life


I’ve always felt that is not just a musician.

He is a doctor.
A hypnotician.
A mesmerizer.
A saviour.
A giver of solace.

And yes… a musician too.


He started his journey a couple of years before I was born.
But when I was growing up, he was at his peak.

So I didn’t just grow up listening to songs…
I grew up living inside his music.

And I feel lucky about that.


Over time, I started noticing something.

His music behaves differently based on what I need.

When I am stressed or low, it calms me — like “Thenpandi Cheemayile”.
When I can’t sleep, it gently takes me into rest — like “Ilaya Nila”.
When I feel like celebrating, it makes me dance — like “Rakkamma Kaiya Thattu”.
When I need motivation, it pushes me forward — like “Ooru Vittu Ooru Vandhu”.
And when I want to feel something spiritual, it lifts me — like “Janani Janani”.


I don’t know music technically.

But I keep wondering…

What is inside him that can control our mind and body like this?

How can one person create sounds that:

  • calm your nerves
  • increase your energy
  • bring tears without reason
  • or give peace without explanation

It doesn’t feel like just music.

It feels like he understands human emotions deeply… and translates them into sound.


There is a famous line in :

“That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?”

I feel like saying this in my own way:

“That’s the beauty of Raja sir’s music. No one can take that away from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?”


People talk about his attitude or arrogance.

Maybe he has it. Maybe he doesn’t.

But I feel something simple.

When someone gives this much to the world…
when someone becomes part of millions of lives without even meeting them…

I think he has earned the right to be who he is.


For me, he didn’t just compose songs.

He composed memories.
He composed emotions.
He composed phases of my life.

And somewhere…

he composed a part of me too.

Too Soft for This World? Or Just Too Real?


I used to think being emotional was a weakness.

In business, I took decisions based on feelings.
In relationships, I trusted with my whole heart.
In friendships, I gave more than I received.

And many times… I lost.

I lost money because I didn’t want to hurt someone.
I lost peace because I couldn’t say “no.”
I lost control because I reacted instead of responding.

Breakups hit me like earthquakes.
Betrayals felt like public humiliation.
Emotional blackmail worked on me because I cared too much.

For a long time, I blamed my heart.

I thought strong people are cold.
I thought smart people are practical.
I thought successful people don’t feel too much.

But now, at this stage of life, I see something different.

Being emotional is not weakness.
Being emotionally unmanaged is weakness.

There is a difference.

Earlier, my emotions were driving me.
Now, I am learning to sit in the driver’s seat.

I still feel deeply.
I still get hurt.
I still care more than I should sometimes.

But today, I pause.
I observe.
I accept.

This phase is not emotional weakness.
It is emotional awareness.

Psychologists call it emotional regulation — the ability to feel without losing control.
Some call it maturity.
Some call it healing.

I call it growing up.

Is it good or bad?

It is powerful — if trained.
Dangerous — if unmanaged.

Emotions are like fire.
They can cook your food.
Or burn your house.

I am not trying to kill my emotions anymore.
I am trying to train them.

Maybe I was never weak.
Maybe I was just untrained.

And maybe… the real strength is not in becoming stone.
It is in becoming steady.

And I am learning steadiness — one feeling at a time.