Remembering Sunder Anna : A Musician, A Mentor, and A Friend

Last year, we lost Sunder Balakrishnan, a man whose presence was as steady as his driving and as intricate as the ragams he played. Sunder was a seasoned musician, a playful critic, and a person of unique convictions. As I look back on our time together, these memories paint a picture of a man who lived authentically and shared his passions generously.

The Maestro and the Mentor

Sunder was the only seasoned musician I ever had the privilege of working with. While many of us were beginners, his command over his instrument was undeniable. He introduced me to the complexities of ragams like Revati and Nattai, yet he never looked down on my amateur efforts.

Expressions 2012 - Sheher Hamara Sota Hai

Expressions 2012 - Winners

• He often admitted that highly trained musicians sometimes lose the ability to truly enjoy music because they become too "calculated" about purity.

• One of our greatest highlights was preparing a small concert for an Infosys client at the JW Marriott, a program that was only possible because of his guidance.

Commentary during the concert

Tattva Fusion · Tattva - DeshRag(Live @ Marriot)

• I remember the beauty of his accompaniment in some katcheris at Fine Arts Chembur and the Kanyaka Parameshwari Temple, where his mastery was on full display.

A Man of Simple Habits

Sunder was a "Saapaat Ram"—a name he gave himself because of his deep love for food. Whether it was Kerala-style stew and pulao he had served us at his home in Chembur or took us to a specific Tamil spot in Sus Road for Ven Pongal and Kuthu parotha, he knew where the soul of food lived.

Beyond food, he was a man of specific comforts:

• The Chataai: Despite the comforts of air-conditioned rooms in Infosys Pune during practice sessions, Sunder refused to stay. He would travel back home late for sleeping only on his chataai (mat).

• The Steady Driver: He took immense pride in his stable driving, often jokingly sharing how his female friends appreciated how safe they felt when he dropped them home.

Humor and "The Sadhu"

Sunder had a playful way of keeping me in check. Whenever I would spiral into one of my long philosophical monologues, he would silently hold up an abhaya-varada hasta pose. It was his way of telling me I was sounding like a Sadhu and it was time to stop.

There was also the "Sunder Mama" incident. While our teacher Raghavan sir used the term affectionately, Sunder was flustered by the other connotations of "Mama" in Tamil culture. He eventually burst out about it at a party, but in true Sunder fashion, we resolved it amicably once he explained his side.

Final Notes

The last time we "spoke" was through music. About a year ago, he shared a small clip of a song he performed on Instagram. I had immensely enjoyed the clip and I told him to share more often.

Sunder’s marriage in 2016 remains a standout memory—a beautiful, musical, Iyer - Malayali affair where all of us friends gathered to celebrate. The food was definitely a highlight. 

It is that spirit—musical, flavorful, and fiercely authentic—that I will carry with me

Miss you brother.