Kerala band Thaikuddam Bridge to sue makers of Kannada film Kantara for plagiarising their song

The band found much attention for the song, which also made it to the credits of Manoj Bajpayee and Samantha Ruth Prabhu-starrer, The Family Man. But what Vasantha and the band didn’t anticipate was that they will find elements of this 2015 piece in Rishabh Shetty-starrer Kannada film, Kantara – set in the 19th century, about a demi-god named Bhoota who gets the local king to give some of his forestlands to the tribals, which years later are claimed back by the king’s successor. The song Varaha Rupam in Kantara opens with a similar prelude, only that it’s played on a nadhaswaram. Vasantha told The Indian Express, “I found out about the song when people began to message and congratulate the band for being featured in Kantara. That had me listen to the song they created and I figured that this was beyond being influenced.”

Vasantha, who is unhappy with the copyright infringement, has already put together a legal team to proceed with a suit against the filmmaker, producers, and creative team of Kantara. “There is a process to these things. They could have actually asked us to use the song and we would have tweaked it for them. It would have been good on the filmmakers’ part to use an independent band in their film,” says Vasantha, who is now a well-known composer in the Tamil and Malayalam music industry and a sought-after name known for his signature blend of classical and contemporary sound.

According to Vian Fernandes, the bassist of the band, if the song was only inspired, they would let it go. “At times, we love certain flavours and we try to get them in our conversations. But taking off a track and adding each and every element, including the orchestration, and not even crediting the artistes is a different ballgame altogether,” says Fernandes.

Post the controversy on social media and before the band decided to take the legal route, Ajneesh Loknath, the composer of Kantara called Vasantha and was upset about the controversy. “He didn’t accept the plagiarism part, of course. I also make music for movies and I believe there are very different pressures in that world. So I cannot blame only Ajneesh for this. What I am sure of is that the creative people involved or the writer and producers have used Navarasam as the reference for their song. In my experience, a lot of filmmakers tell you that they want a sound like a song they have already heard. But usually one creates something in the same energy and vibe. Ajneesh was very polite and I consoled him, but the problem exists,” says Vasantha.

While the multi-lingual and much-appreciated piece is steeped in layers of meanings, at a basic level it alludes to the idea of the performing arts which were once learned at the feet of a guru and how they are increasingly becoming ‘a monstrous ghost of their former self” besides a showcase of the navarasas – the nine moods described in Natyashastra and ones that the world of Indian performing arts (music, dance and theatre) is based upon. But this song is also the story of caste prejudice so deep-rooted in the same world. To articulate the thought, the band took navarasas and displayed them through Kathakali – one of India’s most recognisable dance forms from India that combines dance, storytelling, and mythology, which has had a dying fall for a few years. It is also the artform that the song’s founder Govind Vasantha (earlier Menon) grew up watching his elder brother perform after spending hours on the elaborate make-up, costumes, and the rice-paper mask on the face. “Watching my brother learn and dance Kathakali back home in Irinjalakuda (Thrissur) had a huge impact on me,” says Vasantha, who dropped Menon from his name a few years ago to not be identified by a particular caste and to honour his mother Vasanthakumari.

The story of the song, as shown in the music video, is about a young boy learning Kathakali from his parents, being bullied in school by the ‘upper-caste boys’ and eventually finding jumping into a well to avoid getting beateb up. “This piece has many layers and I leave it to people to interpret,” says Vasantha. While it’s the story of the arts, their beauty, and decline, it’s also a story of those from lower castes wanting to practice the “high arts”. The story probably comes from the marginalised community of the Ezhavas, many of whom took up Kathakali. The video of Kantara uses the imagery of Gaarudi Gombe, which, like Kathakali, involves heavy costumes and face paint.

Thaikuddam Bridge came to attention in 2014 when they had the virtual world in a tizzy with its wild musical mishmash. What made them stand out back then was their small but interesting oeuvre of songs marked by versatility. As for the band’s unique moniker, it was just something they came up with. “All the hunky, funky, lean, mean, fat, brat members of the band got themselves jam-packed in a room near Thaikkudam Bridge in Kochi,” Vasantha had said once. All of the music was their own.