A gentle breeze has stilled. DMK president M. K. Stalin expressed deep shock on Saturday, 17 October 2026, at the passing of celebrated Tamil film music composer Deva — the man former Chief Minister Kalaignar Karunanidhi once crowned 'Theniisaithendral', meaning 'sweet-melody breeze of the south' — and offered heartfelt condolences to the composer's family and the Tamil film world.

From a village to the vanguard of Tamil cinema's mass sound

Stalin's tribute traces the arc of a remarkable life: a composer who arrived in Chennai from a modest rural background and rose to become one of Tamil cinema's most sought-after names from the 1980s onward. What set Deva apart, Stalin writes, was his near-singular role in carrying Gaana — the raw, street-born folk-music tradition of north Chennai — into mainstream Tamil cinema. 'If people think of Gaana, they think of Deva,' Stalin notes, and few would argue.

The composer navigated a fiercely competitive era without losing his footing. On one side stood the towering Ilaiyaraaja; on the other, the global phenomenon A. R. Rahman. Deva carved a third lane entirely his own, delivering mass anthems and lush melodies in equal measure. Tamil popular music history, Stalin says plainly, simply cannot be written without dedicating multiple chapters to Deva.

The Rajinikanth connection — and a title screen that lives on

Stalin lingers longest on Deva's partnership with Superstar Rajinikanth. The films Annamalai, Baasha and Arunachalam produced music that became inseparable from Rajinikanth's screen persona — and Stalin points to a telling detail: even today, Rajinikanth's name still appears on screen accompanied by Deva's music from those films, a quiet testament to how completely their collaboration defined an era. Stalin's tribute also salutes Aattokkaaran, noting that there is 'probably not an auto stand in Tamil Nadu' that has not resounded with that song.

Beyond Rajinikanth, Deva left his mark on the comedy films of Kamal Haasan — Avvai Shanmugam and Panchathanthiram — and on the hits of Captain Vijayakanth, including Pasamulla Pandiyare. For the people of Madurai, Deva's devotional number 'Vaararoo Azhagar Vaararoo' has become so woven into the Chittirai festival that imagining the celebration without it is, Stalin writes, simply impossible.

Melodies that outlast monuments — and a title earned, not given

Stalin is careful to rescue Deva from the 'mass composer' label alone. Films like Aasai, Kaadhal Kottai, Kann Ethire Thoandrinaal and Kaalam Ellaam Kaadhal Vaazhga prove a composer equally at home in tenderness as in thunder. It was the late Kalaignar Karunanidhi who formalised this reading when he bestowed the title 'Theniisaithendral' — a title Stalin clearly believes Deva wore with complete grace.

Stalin also notes that Deva brought no ego to his later years: he sang willingly on the compositions of younger artists, including Anirudh, and continued to fill concert grounds across Tamil Nadu right until recently. That openness, Stalin suggests, was as much a part of the man as the music.

Condolences to Sreekandh Deva and the family

Stalin closes by offering his 'deepest condolences and comfort' to Deva's son, composer Sreekandh Deva, his brother Murali, the wider family, colleagues across the film industry, and the composer's vast base of fans. 'Even if Deva has departed this earth,' Stalin writes, 'the sweet-melody breeze he created will never stop blowing.'