
MELBOURNE: Sri Lankan Tamil pop singer Nithi Kanagaratnam was recently honoured by the Australian Tamil Literary and Art Society.
When honouring someone, everyone must understand why that individual has been chosen. Otherwise, some may assume it is due to familiarity, flattery, influence, or past favours. When celebrating someone, even if we don’t know them personally, we should at least be familiar with their work or contributions. This is precisely what Thiruvalluvar conveyed 2,000 years ago:
“A true person, though unknown, is revealed by their reputation and deeds.”
A simple Kural I studied in the fifth grade.
In 1968, while in eighth grade at Hindu College, I heard the songs “Chinna Maamiye” and “Kallukkadai Pakkam Pogaadhe” somewhere. Back then, I didn’t seek their origin. Learning about Nithi only after getting to know him personally, and then exploring his songs, feels less organic, like praising someone merely because they’re a friend or acquaintance.
It wasn’t until 1975 at the University of Peradeniya that I became aware of pop music. At the time, alongside Sinhala singers, artists like A.E. Manoharan and Nithi Kanagaratnam were prominent. Until a month ago, I hadn’t delved deeper into Nithi’s legacy. What must be emphasised here is this: more significant than his songs are his deeds.
Recently, my Hindu College friend Dr. Ranjith Singh (Sam Jayakumar) contacted me from the UK, requesting that I send millet to Nithi. When I asked why, he explained:
“Nithi has built an Ayurvedic hospital in Jaffna using his funds and donated it to the University of Jaffna. It operates under the Faculty of Medicine to integrate Western and Eastern practices. We’ve asked him to study millet’s nutritional value, as replacing rice with millet could help reduce diabetes in the region. We—doctors in the UK—have pledged to support this research.”
I agreed immediately, purchased millet from our friend Elango’s store, and mailed it to Nithi the next day.
Here I am, learning about Nithi through others. He has never published his self-funded community service—a testament to his humility. Dr. Ranjith Singh added, “Though Nithi wrote songs in 1963, they were performed at the Dinakaran Festival in 1968.” I later verified these details with Nithi himself.
Pop music emerged during our era, captivating Tamil and Sinhala audiences alike. While I wasn’t deeply involved in music, even my Sinhala friends, who didn’t speak Tamil, could sing the opening lines of “Chinna Maamiye.” They’d sing those lines upon seeing Tamil girls at Peradeniya, weaving in the few Tamil words they’d learned from us in the hostel.
Beyond Nithi, I can’t recall another Sri Lankan Tamil singer so widely recognised in Tamil Nadu. Dr. Ranjith Singh noted, “The song ‘Chinna Maamiye’ was not only popular in Tamil Nadu but also translated into Telugu and Kannada for films.”
Nithi isn’t just a singer—he is a lyricist, composer, and guitarist. This is why we celebrate him as a multi-talented artist of our generation.
He studied agriculture at Hardy Technical College in Ampara and earned his BSc in Agriculture and MSc in Plant Pathology from Allahabad University. Yet, we honour him today not for his academic credentials but for his social consciousness and multidimensional character—qualities that set him apart.
Fifteen years ago, shortly after the war, I met him at Oakleigh Church to commend his return to his hometown to serve the Tamil community.
He recently celebrated 50 years of marriage. My heartfelt congratulations to Nithi and his wife, especially as supporting a partner immersed in music and social work is no small feat. I speak from experience, which is why I warmly extend my wishes to them both.
Source – Noelnadesan’s Blog.