Shankar Mahadevan plays soothsayer at the Hyatt Regency hotel during a recent visit to the city.

Shankar Mahadevan has had a tiring day. He arrived early in the morning from Chennai and has been in meetings all afternoon. In between, he has also been busy fine-tuning arrangements for an evening concert with fellow musicians of fusion band Silk. Even then, the man’s a bundle of energy, and despite the odd yawn or two, exuded the infectious enthusiasm of a five-year-old when the topic was music — the second closest thing to Mahadevan’s heart. The first, of course, is his family.

Mahadevan is much in demand after a string of major hits — each one bigger than the previous — as part of the Shankar, Ehsaan and Loy trio that set tunes to films like Dil Chahta Hai, Kal Ho Na Ho, Bunty Aur Babli, Kabhie Alvida Na Kehna and Farhan Akhtar’s Don.

As a composer, Mahadevan has his platter full at the moment, with projects like Nikhil Advani’s Salaam-E-Ishq, an Anil Kapoor production that’s yet to be titled and Zoya Akhtar’s Kismat Talkies lined up one after another. And as a singer, well, nobody seems to be in a hurry to forget Kajra re from Bunty Aur Babli, which is blaring out from radios and speakers almost everywhere even a year after its release.

Right now, Mahadevan is basking in the success of Farhan Akhtar’s Don. The music, despite the comparison with the timeless numbers from the old Amitabh Bachchan-starrer, has received rave reviews and, according to market gossip, the album is doing quite well.

Composing music for the project was difficult, says Mahadevan. But the trio rose to the challenge and, with innovations like getting Shah Rukh Khan to sing, seems to have pulled off a major coup.

According to Mahadevan, the reason behind Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy’s success is simple: “We’re three friends who’re absolutely consumed by music and who love to share or explore each other’s territory to develop a creative common ground.”

At present, Mahadevan is concentrating more on his career as a singer — he’s the vocalist of fusion bands Silk and Shakti. “Performing with these bands is something that I love. Though composing movie scores has its own charm, I have to follow the director’s guidelines. But the USP of Silk or Shakti is that you’re free to flirt with your imagination.”

He believes it’s even more important to discuss, share and learn ideas and tricks with his fellow performers — all titans in their field — like Louiz Banks or Karl Peters of Silk, or John McLaughlin or Zakir Hussain of Shakti. And Mahadevan has plans to cut fresh albums with these bands, particularly Silk, as soon as possible.

For someone with fingers in so many pies, how does Mahadevan divide his time? “Planning, planning and planning,” he says. “All my engagements are planned well in advance, or else everything will go haywire.”

For example, the day’s concert by Silk, part of the Seagram’s 100 Pipers tour, was scheduled four months ago, so every band member — Mahadevan, percussionists Sivamani and Sridhar Parthasarathy; Louiz Banks and guitarist Karl Peters — knew what they’d be required to do and readied themselves accordingly.

And given the uniqueness of Silk’s shows, the musicians don’t go for a lot of rehearsals either. “About 20 per cent of our shows’ content is pre-planned. The rest, we improvise on stage,” adds Mahadevan. And this spontaneous nature of performance is the reason that none of Silk’s concerts — whose number has crossed a formidable 100, including those in India and abroad — are similar.

Trained in Carnatic classical music, Mahadevan was already doing bits and pieces of work for the ad industry at the time he was in college. After graduating as a software engineer, he joined a software firm. The IT boom had just begun and “techies were moving overseas left, right and centre,” says Mahadevan. In fact, he was also supposed to go to the US for higher studies and research. But, already, the music bug had bitten him, and Mahadevan decided to stay back and concentrate on music.

“My wife was, in the true sense, my pillar of strength. Others pitched in, too, especially my friends.” His father had died before Mahadevan finished college and his mother was a bit apprehensive when he decided to chuck up his job for good. “Eventually, my mother became one of my biggest supporters after seeing my resolve,” adds Mahadevan, with a tinge of pride.

Mahadevan used to perform along with Zakir Hussain, who later signed him to sing in the Merchant- Ivory production, Muhafiz. The result: Shankar Mahadevan — the playback singer was born.

Gradually, offers started pouring in like Ketan Mehta’s Oh Darling Yeh Hai India and the Aamir Khan starrer Akele Hum Akele Tum. And steadily, Mahadevan managed to get a toehold in the industry. In the meantime, he also cut his solo album, Breathless, which was wildly successful. And in the age of music videos, Breathless was what brought Mahadevan to the nation’s drawing rooms.

Does he still have bigger dreams? “Yes! I’m planning to open an academy for budding musicians.” What’s so new about Mahadevan’s idea? “My dream is to create an environment where students would be encouraged to appreciate music rather than being prodded to concentre only on the commercial sweepstakes. Though music is now easily available, peddled out through numerous TV channels and radio stations 24/7, I believe that listening standards have actually gone down. I’d like to measure the success of my academy not in terms of how many successful musicians we churn out, but by the number of listeners — who can understand and appreciate the finer nuances of music — we can help to develop.”

And his academy would also serve as a platform for unsung musicians who continue to create magic in far-flung corners of rural India. In fact, Mahadevan is planning to tour the country on his own, armed with a sound recorder, to archive these timeless voices that might soon fade into oblivion. “Only after I’m able to bring recognition to these musicians, I’d consider myself to be successful as a musician,” he says firmly.

As I was leaving Mahadevan’s room, I caught a glimpse of the man standing absent-mindedly by the window. He was watching the sound-check for the evening’s open-air concert, while humming a tune on his own. Who knows, that might well be the lead for the next Kajra re. With Shankar Mahadevan around, there’s simply no stopping the music!

Photograph by Rashbehari Das