Apogee

The mind!

One of the most enigmatic and mysterious things in the world. Conquer the mind and you will conquer the Universe. After all, aren’t these two related?

Why am I talking about this now? Though there are varied reasons, the prime one is the significance of the day. It is the 176^th aaradhana of Tyagaraja, one of the most prolific and genius composers the world has ever seen and whose name itself is enough to define music. Let me give just two samples of his genius.

The 7^th CharaNam of the first Pancharatna(these 5 kritis are considered to be the pinnacle) goes something like this – Omkaara panjara keerapura- which means – You are the parrot who lives in the cage of PraNavaa-, the swaras in ‘Omkaara’, being ‘Sa..sa…..’, that is, the upper Sa for Om and then just the sustenance on the lower sa, giving the sound of the PraNavaa(Om).

In the 1^st CharaNam of the 5^th Pancharatna, which goes like ‘Saama gaana lola’, he has composed in such a way that it just sounds like the Saama veda, the veda known for its musicality.

I know these are some advanced details and I have tried to simplify it as much as possible so that the intricacies are brought to light and the nuances are appreciated.

In the beginning, I spoke about the mind. Let us see a kriti of his which was used by ILaiyaraaja- who happens to be an ardent devotee of Tyagaraja. In fact, this kriti was used by him twice in two different movies. The one I am posting now is in the voice of Yesudass and Janaki from ‘Isai Paadum ThendRal’(1986).

For a change, I am not going to keep the description brief. But before that, I must tell you all that there are two versions to this kriti, ‘Manasuloni Marmamulu Telusuko’, one in Hindolam and the other in a raga called Varamu, which has the other variant of the ‘ga’. Raaja sir however has used only the Hindolam version in both the movies.

The bird call in the beginning sets the tone ideally. After all, isn’t our mind too like a bird? With pulsating weight, Janaki sings the akaaram. It is a beautiful sketch of that grand raga called Hindolam, whose Hindustani counterpart Malkauns is sung during the small hours in the morning after midnight, as per theory. The raga then moves with coherence and fluency, unfolding with great zeal, unravelling the beauty with grace and sensitivity. The overlapping of the swaras and the superimposition are like a rapier cut. Only difference is that this is soft and soothing.

Yesudass joins and continues the akaaram in his inimitable way. The brief rhythmic ensemble towards the end is the jewel in the crown.

‘Understand the inner yearning of my mind, Oh the One with the hues of the Emerald and whose heart if always filled with bliss!! In the past You protected me with your immense affection. Hold my hand now as I need You the most now’.

Applies to all, irrespective of caste, creed and religion.

Mind is the Universe. Universe is the Divine.

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Persona and Personal

It may sound preposterous, absurd, laughable and even silly to people who know me well, but I cannot not make this statement:

When I listen to some of the songs, I sometimes tend to associate the actors who lip synched the song.

Coming as it does from a person who very recently made a statement in another forum that when he listens to Raaja songs, he sees only Raaja, this comes as a surprise even to me. In fact, whenever people mentioned ‘MGR songs’, ‘Sivaji songs’, ‘Rajini songs’ , ‘Kamal songs’, I never hid my amusement and I would even shoot back asking if it was these people who composed the songs and recorded the songs. But I realised last week that yes, even I tend to relate some particular songs with the actors, but let me tell you that these are just a select few and that this happens only at times.

Why last week?

It is because I read about the sudden demise of an actor(cum director) called Pratap Pothen. The moment I saw that, the image that flashed across my mind was the one with the actor carrying the guitar on his shoulders. As a corollary, multiple images came rushing through- him sitting with the guitar in Ooty even as the girl opposite to him was ill at ease, him playing the guitar to a group of urchins in a village, him sitting yet again in Ooty and sounding the guitar in a school excursion even as students watch him with awe…

People familiar with these sequences, know the songs that go along with those. The images are striking though. Are these because of Guitar? Are these because of the way the music gelled with the sequences? Or are these simply because the actor did full justice to the songs with his expressions and demeanour?

Well, this post is not so much about the acting skills of that gentleman as it is about the way he portrayed the characters giving respect to the music being played in the background. One cannot brush this aside as mere perception and this fact will be known if the sequences are watched thoroughly.

The fact of the matter is Pratap was one of the few actors in Tamizh cinema who was well-read, well-informed and who had a great sense of appreciation for music. The last one was confirmed about 5 years ago when I saw him in the audience at the Music Academy in one of the afternoon concerts during the December season. But apart from this fact, he was a huge Raaja fan. Given an opportunity, he has never failed to mention about the music of ILaiyaraaja and how his music helped him in the movies he directed. For that matter, when the ‘Royalty’ issue was at its peak with canards being spread against the Maestro by netizens who never understood the concept of copyright, Pratap mentioned in an interview as to how he did his first film as a director -Meendum oru kaadal kadai- for free.

As a tribute to this actor who was a connoisseur of sorts, let us look at a song in which he appeared without his trademark guitar.

The moment someone mentions ‘Nenjaththai KiLLade’, people will instantly remember either ‘Paruvame’ or ‘Uravenum’. There are two more songs of course, but the song under discussion today is unique and relevant. Relevant because it carries that sense of poignancy and unique because of the way it was composed.

Though one knows this composer as somebody who blends all major forms with consummate ease producing some classic compositions, each time he does that and each time when we listen to them we feel awe struck at the uniqueness. ‘Ye Thendrale’ is yet another example of this.

There is harmony, there is western classical, there is jazz..But above all there is ‘Raaja’.

Starting with two sets of chorus singing in two different octaves simultaneously with the electric guitar responding briefly, the prelude haunts us not least because of the chorus voice and the strings and some special sounds that follow.

The Pallavi in the voice of Suseela is melancholic to say the least, with even the bass guitar and the subtle piano keys sounding mournful. Coming to think of it even the percussion in the 6-beat cycle sounds wistful even as it plays ta ka dhi mi/ta ka.

The first interlude is a veritable treat in WCM, though briefly. The strings play in the beginning and towards the end and what is special about this is the bass sound from Cello, which accentuates the feeling of piteousness. Needless to say, these string sections sound sans percussion. Sandwiched between the two string sections is the electric guitar which whorls like gusty wind with the bass guitar and percussion backing it with a purpose.

The lines in the CharaNams are followed by the chorus and just towards the end-that is in the last line- when the chorus hums, it seems like a plaintive cry of a bird which had lost its partner in the woods and keeps looking for it.

The second interlude is yet again dominated by the strings and this domination is enjoyable indeed. The strings sound a melody. The brass flute along with a bevy of instruments respond twice, each time with a difference. This happens twice after which the strings are followed by the bells and the guitar. As the melody keeps encircling us, the brass flute plays a wistful melody. The pizzicato on the violin which follows and which keeps repeating the melody, the melody from the brass flute and the strings – all without percussion- seem as if there is a search for something hidden deep inside. It culminates in the chorus and the strings joining together and giving images which are rather indecipherable.

At times why and how we get certain images cannot be deciphered nor can it be explained. It just has to be felt!

 

 

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Volition

 

“The new Mayor of Chennai Corporation is a woman.”

“11 out of 20 Mayors in Tamizh Nadu are women.”

These lines are part of the headlines in leading newspapers last week. What does this convey?

Women Empowerment? That women in our country are now out of the clutches and that the cliched Glass ceiling has been broken?

Before we attempt to draw any conclusions, let me reproduce a small passage:

“Listen to me. You may be the President of whatever of that ‘xyz’ company, but when we come home, you are a wife and a mother and a daughter. Nobody can take that place. So, leave your crown in the Garage.”

This passage is extracted from the autobiography of Indra Nooyi, the first woman CEO of that multinational company and that ‘dialogue’ was uttered by her mother when the CEO-Designate drove back home and broke the news to her mother.

The headlines quoted in the beginning and this passage may sound relevant to some and may sound irrelevant to many. But the fact of the matter is, women-not just in India, but across the world- are discriminated against, their roles being stereotyped with the ‘crown’ sitting uncomfortably on their heads, ready to be dislodged at the drop of a hat!

‘All said and done, she is a woman’- Is there anybody who has not used this expression? And this includes women too.. Indra’s mother, a woman herself cannot extricate herself from the definition of the ‘duties of a woman’. In a way, she is no different from that gentleman called Manu, whose lines have been quoted ad nauseam.

At the other end of the spectrum-which is diametrically opposite to that ‘empowerment theory’, we get to see crimes and atrocities against women continuing unabated, not just in the oppressed class, but also in the elite class. The shameful and nauseous incident involving the Malayalam actor which happened in 2017 and despite all evidence, being dragged by the court of law with the main accused continuing to enjoy the ‘immunity’ and even continuing to act in films, is a case in point. The fact that the female actor is audacious and doggedly pursuing the case without giving up even an inch despite the aspersion cast, is indeed appreciable and shows the light at the end of the tunnel.

Women are not objects or subjects but are human beings with a free will. If we realise this fact(and here ‘we’ means both men and women), only then can we say that women are empowered.

Being glorified as ‘Shakti’, being put on a pedestal, being considered a gold ornament which is at best kept inside the locker or used only as an ornament on occasions, being made to occupy powerful positions only to keep reminding them of their ‘duties’ as a ‘stree’, are not things a woman wants. What they want is Respect in real sense without assuming that the power to give freedom lies with a male.

In the song of the day, I feel that freedom. ‘Karpoora Mullai OndRu’ from ‘Karpoora Mullai’(1991) reminds me of a free bird which flies without any inhibitions.

The beginning itself suggests this. The female voice humming ‘Bam ha Bam Bam’ with the chorus joining in soon and the different sound which sounds like a ball falling down and bouncing back, kindles interest. A kind of interest which would make anything interesting. The bass guitar and the keys follow suit and produce sound which can be called ‘naughty and notorious’. In short, Freedom at its best!

We move like that uncontrollable river in a forest- sings Chitra in the Pallavi in which the bass guitar and the drums back the vocals in their signature style.

The bass strings continue their journey in the first interlude with the brass instruments peeping in in the beginning and then going on their own trip. The bass strings enter again but this time the violins join them and it is two different melodies superimposed. The bass strings take a turn and chart their own path, after a while and lead to the CharaNam.

The beginning of the CharaNam is different yet again with the chorus singing in harmony.

We can no longer be tied like how a snake is made to sleep inside a box. No longer are we the ‘Sitas’ to be confined to the boundaries – sings the chorus.

We move like the silver chariot in the night, singing and dancing to ourselves.

It is the funny sound of the guitar which first attracts us in the second interlude. The strings follow moving like a stream. The chorus hums a melody and though it is repetitive, it does not sound stale because of the tune and also because of the guitar which backs the vocals.

A river flows on its own. It need not ask anybody about its path.

A cuckoo sings on its own. It need not seek permission.

Hope people who build dams or people who cage the birds are listening!

 

Distinct

 

‘’Have you at any point of time fallen in love or has anybody proposed to you?’’

Long pause..

“I would rather not answer this question.”

This interaction which happened on a TV channel long ago between a media person, who is ‘nosy’(literally and figuratively) and a very popular singer, remains firmly etched in my memory. Those were the days when ‘social’ and ‘media’ were independent words and the word joining the two had not yet been coined. But still in my opinion, this is no different from the kind of messages one gets to see ad nauseam on the present-day social media platforms with more focus on sensation and the personal lives of well-known people and less on their strengths and what they are known for, trying to give a false identity.

While I would refrain from naming the TV personality who asked that question, I would surely love to mention the name of the very popular singer, who will surely fall in the bracket of ‘Legends’ in the pantheon of not just film personalities but also musicians.

If there is a name which is a house-hold name in every nook and cranny of our country, it is Lata Mangeshkar. Even in the state where Hindi is always looked at with scorn, where the word Hindi itself is an anathema to many and where languages are given political colours, this lady and her songs have played and will continue to play in a majority of households.

In fact, the question that was asked by the media personality, reminded me of a dialogue from a rather popular Tamizh film in which the wife of the musician-the protagonist in the movie-, asks him if Lata Mangeshkar is married. Coming as it did from a character who is ignorant about music, this is not surprising, but the fact that most of us- especially of late- miss the wood for the trees cannot be denied.

I shall leave this for a while and try and touch upon this towards the end.

Going back to the singer, I must admit that though I grew up with that voice during my pre-teen days in Madras and during my phase in Hyderabad(what that phase is, has been told many times and therefore I would prefer to leave it now), I was enamoured of this voice, later on, that is after listening to many others, my loyalties shifted. Yet, I or for that matter anyone can deny the fact that the impact the voice has made on people across the globe can hardly be matched.

The South Indian connection the singer had, is known only to some. It went beyond singing songs-mainly for Raaja sir. Long ago, she watched a movie of Sivaji Ganesan and became a fan instantly. This developed into a beautiful relationship and whenever she visited Madras, she would stay in their house. She considered him as an elder brother and even became a part of their family.

It is not a coincidence that her re-entry song in Tamizh films (she had already sung a couple of songs under Naushad for the movie ‘Aan’ which was dubbed from Hindi in 1953 - was produced by Sivaji productions. This movie ‘Anand’ had Sivaji’s son Prabhu in the lead role. But the song we are going to see, is different.

The impact the song Engirundho Azhaikkum from En Jeevan Paaduthu (1988) makes on people can be known from the fact that when Raaja sir’s wife listened to it, she broke down instantly.

What starts as a kind of haunting humming with the strings in higher-octave giving the impetus, softens with the entry of guitar and the keys which play the same notes simultaneously with the bass guitar in the background. But what is amazing is the very subtle sound of the strings which play a sustained note.

The Pallavi in Mishra Pahaadi attains a special sheen in the voice of the legend, who by then had passed her prime and yet sounded good. I am reminded of an article by T.M.Krishna today where he says ‘Her voice aged, but it never sounded old’.

The haunting feel continues in the first interlude as well with one set of strings going up and the other set responding. As before, it is left to the guitar to bring sobriety. Not to be missed is the sound of the subtle strings playing the sustained notes(yet again!). After a brief intervention by the brass flute, the guitar continues its journey like a karma yogi. The flute enters yet again but this time playing in a different octave.

What follows is the definition of plaintiveness. The strings play as if all the notes have been soaked in a stream called ‘Melancholy’. What adds to this feeling is the sound from bass guitar, which in fact, continues to play even after the interlude ends, well into the first CharaNam and then throughout the CharaNam backing the vocals.

Also making an appearance is the flute between the lines and the strings along the lines.

But it is finally the tune in the CharaNam which makes one lugubrious and pensive. The upper registers are touched in the penultimate line but the last line sees a dash of alien notes(which makes this particular raag more beautiful) and needless to say one sees O. Henry Raaja here.

One gets to see him more in the second interlude when a recorder like instrument makes a sudden entry after a ‘zig-zag’ melody from the strings. The strings take over again and gives a sense of mystique, going linear first and curvilinear next. It reaches a crescendo and touches the peak as if to show that nothing else exists beyond that.

Poojya = PoorNa.

Names will be forgotten. Faces will change..The voice is the identity..

But finally, even beyond all this, Music is the only identity..

Music from the Eternity!

 

Evergreen

 About 4 months ago, something happened in a campus in Chennai. Some trees were mercilessly chopped off and some were ‘trimmed’. What makes this worse is the fact that the Institution is known for its aesthetic sense and the founder of the Institution- who in fact revolutionised the dance form in terms of breaking the shackles and bringing in some novel ideas on stage - was known for her love for nature. She will surely be turning in her grave as her ideals have been murdered by people who manage the Institution now.

Personally speaking, it affected me a lot not just because I love nature and trees, but also because I have a special attachment with that campus, my childhood memories being the main reason. Though I came to realise this much later, seeds for my love for nature and also my sense of aesthetics were sown in this campus. I also remember sowing seeds in that campus on the first day of Aadi every year. Though the two seeds in the previous two lines are different, there is an irrefutable connection between the two.

I have always wondered as to why a majority of humans do not pay attention to trees around them; as to why they do not respect the trees; as to why they do not love the trees; as to why they turn a blind eye to the cutting of trees.

In one of the recent books I read- The Island of Missing Trees- the author Elif Shafak says trees can communicate between themselves and that the trees have feelings though this may differ from the feelings of humans. As per Indian astrology too, each of the 27 stars is associated with a particular tree and if there is a defect in the horoscope, people are advised to plant a particular tree or at least water the tree. Note also that all major temples have a ‘stala vruksha’.

It is easy to brush all these aside as blind beliefs and superstitions. But what cannot be and should not be brushed aside is the fact that trees have the freedom to live in this world as much as humans have. Therefore, humans have no right to cut any tree.

The song of the day may not have any relation-direct or indirect- with trees. However, it talks about shedding violence and inculcating a spirit of camaraderie among humans.

The beginning of Kamsam Dhwamsam from Keecharallu (1991) itself makes me feel the pain of the trees. The humming by SPB, Chitra and chorus sounds like the agony suffered by those beautiful creatures whose language is not understood by humans. The drums, which play only the second beat of the 4-beat cycle prominently and the claps which do the same in the next half, show the depth of the pain. The piped instruments too sound a melody which is abstract.

The MaNipravaLam in the Pallavi-which has a mix of Telugu and Hindi- is more relevant as it talks about arts- fine arts at that! The irony here cannot be missed as the Institution under reference is known for teaching and training students on Fine arts!

The piped instruments continue sketching an abstract melody in the first interlude with the bass guitar and the rhythm guitar nodding their heads rather nonchalantly. The short silence in the interlude and the melody that follows, show images of violent acts.

It is the second interlude which musically depicts the inhuman act (or should I say ‘human act’ as humans have become immune to all these and have learnt to accept everything having lost the ability to question things which violate nature?). In the first segment, I see the first act of ‘cutting’ with the perpetrators going about their job with glee, while in the next segment the trees fall one by one. In the last segment, the trees utter a cry inaudible to insensitive souls.

Nothing can be more appropriate than the lines in the second charaNam-

You are the Temple of ‘ta ka tai/ ta tai’.

Naatya, Sangeetam, Shudhdha Dhanyasi..

Is anybody listening?

Hamlet

 Recently, during a Training Session, there was an interesting debate.

In this age of AGs and Republics(no, not the Donald one, though this one is equally comical!), the word ‘Debate’ has lost its meaning and surely its value. But in spite of being aware of this fact, I have some reasons for calling the Debate we had as ‘interesting’. First of all, the two Teams were standing and not sitting (probably to symbolise the fact that we are after all, ‘outstanding’!). Secondly, unlike the normal debates where the debater presents his case somewhat elaborately, in this debate one had to go, stand, make a point and go back. The person from the rival Team would then go, say a one-liner and go back and so on..

Doesn’t this sound interesting?

But what made this most interesting, was the Topic, which was ‘City life Vs Village life’. The team member had to start his/her sentence with ‘City life/Village life is better because...’ and then put across a point. As you all know, this was more ‘honoured in the breach than in observance’ (long live the Bard of Avon for enriching the language of English J). The main point was forgotten and all other points were ‘put across’. It was ‘Comedy Time’ and yours truly enjoyed every bit of it as he was part of the ‘village group’.

Let us keep this debate aside now and look at the reality. How many of us really care for villages? How many of us genuinely understand the significance of villages? How many of us respect villages?

That ‘how many of us’ is meant more for the people who rule us.. One of the many words which have been misused and abused is the word ‘development’. The very mention of this word should normally gives us positive vibes but it doesn’t. ‘Development’ in the lexicon of the powers that be, is ‘destroying villages’ which in effect means destroying our heart. I am not going to list out anything here, but I am sure it is obvious to all true citizens of the country. But the irony in this is that people who are against ‘Green’ include the word ‘Green’ in the project! Probably it is a kind of cathartic release for such characters whose mind travels not in one lane but in eight lanes!

If villages cease to exist, I am sure music too shall cease to exist. It is because of the reason that music has its roots in villages. If people do not agree with this, they may read my earlier posts on this subject in the same thread. Though one may have divergent views on this, in my opinion, folk music is everlasting and can never be ephemeral.

In fact, the reason for the success of ‘AnnakkiLi’ is the folksy tunes which were lapped up by the Tamizh audience as it came like a whiff of fresh air. As already mentioned in some of my posts earlier in the same thread, it is not correct to say that folk music never existed in Tamizh film songs before ‘AnnakkiLi’. But the difference the album made was that the music sounded more authentic. Most importantly, it was totally different from what people heard until then.

ILaiyaraaja’s folk music in films has never sounded out of place or cacophonic. At the same time, the music was also experimental. He had no misgiving or apprehension in using western instruments in folk songs. On the other hand, he had the courage of conviction. This positive attitude along with his innate musicality made the songs sound so very different and attracted not just the common man but the cognoscenti as well.

The song of the day is just one example. ‘Hey en aasai vazhaikkuruththe’ from ‘Aayiram Vaasal Idayam’(1980) smells like the paddy in the green fields, tastes like the sugar cane juice fresh from the garden and shimmers like the fireflies which hover around the fields in the night.

The song starts with a ‘call and response’. The male chorus ‘calls’ and the female chorus responds after a pause. The silence in between, conveys more than what it conceals. After 2 different ‘calls’ and ‘responses’, the percussion-which is nothing but the ankle bell- enters and backs the ‘thanthaana naa naa na’ of the male chorus with the overlapping female chorus singing different syllables in a different octave. Who said Harmony exists only in Western Music?

It is the turn of the percussion-this time a folk percussion something like ‘thaarai’ to take over. After 8 ‘ta ki ta’s, the drum plays only the first and the third syllable, showing the mind of the composer who thrives on ‘variety’.

Malaysia Vasudevan is in his element and voice sings the Pallavi in a majestic tone with Sasirekha(who for a change, does not sound off-key at all) and Shailaja following suit.

Is it difficult to believe that a sound from a keyboard can give a genuine folksy flavour? Your disbelief will disappear in no time if you listen to the beginning of the first interlude. A mandolin-sounding instrument used ubiquitously by him during the ‘70s, replies to the keyboard with the jalatharangam-sounding instrument pitching in now and then. The chorus enters again, now to the backing of the guitar. It is harmony again with the female chorus singing in higher octave and the male chorus singing in lower octave at the same time. The flute, which appears just briefly, does not fail to make us feel amidst the paddy fields.

The lines in the CharaNams-especially in the second portion- are folksy too and this is not least because of the rendering of Malaysia Vasudevan, the flute and the chorus. Note the use of different sets of percussion and also the change in the pattern!

The way the chorus is made to sing the first segment of the second interlude, the gliding and the sliding of the keyboard, the circumambulating flute and the ‘mandolin’ make us feel rustic and nostalgic as well.

‘We are happy-go-lucky. If you want, you join us, or else leave us alone’, these seem to say musically.

Hope the ‘Development people’ are listening..

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Stree

 

‘’Will you marry her?’’- asked that gentleman.

‘’No sir.  I am already married’’, replied that man.

No, this is not a scene straight out of any Bollywood or Kollywood movie. This conversation happened just last week and (hold your breath!) it happened in a place where people go for justice. And the person who asked that question is the ‘chief’ in that place.

Here is the background story. A man repeatedly raped a minor girl some years ago. He was arrested (not sure if he was let out one bail later, because in our country bail is the rule and jail is an exception for the privileged while the converse is true for common man(and woman). The aforementioned conversation happened after the hearing was over and before the judgement was passed.

What is most appalling is the ‘sensitivity’ of the chief, a person holding a very high position- and therefore one who is expected to set an example – trying to pardon the criminal by marrying him off to the girl he once abused, without even bothering to check with the girl.

 A girl or a woman should marry the man who had intercourse with her, with or without her consent.

Patriarchal, ultra-conservative and most importantly nauseous..

I am reminded of a tamizh movie which came out in the ‘80s, in which the ‘hero’ rapes a bride(no, not his bride-to-be) on the eve of the wedding and the girl doing ‘satyagraha’(wow!) in front of his house and finally marrying him! To top it all, the movie was titled ‘New Path’ and it was a super-duper hit. It is also not uncommon to see the great tamizh cinema heroes’ sisters getting raped by villains(or their sons) and the ‘heroes’ taking a vow to marry them off to the person(s) who indulged in that crime!

Whether one likes it or not, patriarchy is ingrained in our system. There are two different sets of ‘do’s and dont’s’ for a man and for a woman. If a man achieves something, accolades pour in. If a woman achieves something, accolades pour in no doubt but with a tail- despite being a woman, she achieved this.

There are many tales too right from our mythologies. One such example is Renuka Devi, the wife of Rishi Jamadagni. Considered to be a ‘pativrata’, she serves her husband meeting all his needs. One day, when she goes to a pond to collect water for her husband’s morning puja, she sees a shadow of a gandharva who flies above her. For a moment, she thinks, ‘how handsome!’. The Muni comes to know of this because of his ‘yogic powers’ and immediately asks his son Parashurama to behead her. The son obliges and after she dies, requests his father to bring her back to life. The Rishi brings her back to life and the pativrata falls at his feet seeking forgiveness. She then becomes a Goddess herself and is still worshipped by people!

At the same time, there are stories of rishis marrying twice or even ‘gods’ going after women(Indra was a master in this!) but they are all excused and these things are taken casually. After all, it is a Man’s world!

From mythologies to movies, the stories are the same though the scripts are different. Women are worshipped, glorified and put on a pedestal but when it comes to her personal choices, feelings and sensibilities, she will have none and will be at the mercy of the man and on his whims and fancies.

Things of course are changing but not the mindset!

Somehow, this song from Killer (1992) gives me an image of an independent woman who has the gumption and boldness to describe her feelings and who has no hesitation in sharing her needs and wants.

‘Piliche Kuhu Kuhu’ has a very different start. In fact, it even sounds eerie. But after that humming by Janaki which is followed by the horns, it sounds very different. Probably, there is a reason for this too.

The Pallavi starts without any percussion. The bass guitar and the rhythm pad take over from the second line backing the vocals (Janaki) like disciplined soldiers.

Guitar with the phaser gives a sound in the beginning of the first interlude, which at best can be described as ‘sensuous’. The strings take over even while that guitar sound continues in the background. There are of course two sets of strings playing two sets of melodies. It is a very short WCM piece which would make any western music composer proud.

The piece without a doubt goes deep into one’s heart and kindles emotions hitherto not felt.

The lines in the CharaNams are romantically sensuous not least because of the languorous way it has been constructed and rendered.

The keys in the second interlude, poke one’s senses albeit in a positive way with the strings sounding mellow and the bass guitar resonating in its own way.

Erotic and Sensuous.. Distinct and Charming.. Unique and Different..

And aren’t these enough to drive away the deep-seated patriarchy?

Hope the ‘SAB’s and the Jamadagnis are listening!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VasmkNmqQnM

Five Arrows

 Once upon a time, we Indians loved Eroticism.

Temples had sculptures with erotic postures (these exist even today, a fact ‘moral police’ band will refuse to accept or acknowledge). Temples were even built to celebrate love in a place called Khajuraho. A marvellous piece of work called ‘Kamasutra’ was composed. Yet another beautiful piece of love poetry was composed by somebody called Jayadeva in Orissa. But much before all this, the Tamizh land saw a bevy of works in the Sangam period which openly talked about the union and separation. Even Bhakti poets took an erotic route to sing verses on the Almighty, some Aazhwars being prime examples.

Enter the ‘whites’ from an alien country and everything changed from then on. In the course of the nineteenth century, Indian society absorbed from the British and overblown sense of Victorian piety, the remnants of which still exist in the twenty first century.

But amidst all these, was a woman in Tanjavore who had fame and riches while modesty, according to her was for the colourless and the timid. This woman, Muddu Pazhani was a revolutionary of sorts. She had the audacity to compose a work on Lord Krishna in which Radha marries him off to a girl called Ila. This work- Radhika Santwanamu- which has 584 poems, oozes with sensuality. Needless to say, this Devadasi woman was condemned by the society that time, which in fact had no qualms in appreciating and acknowledging the ‘Bhakti element’ in songs composed by Kshetrayya who too sang in praise of Lord Krishna.

Sample this song of Kshetrayya- When we are on the bed of gold, playing at love talk/ He calls me Kamalakshi, the other woman’s name/ I am so mad, I hit him as hard as I can/With my braid.

And compare that with this written by Muddu Pazhani- He is the best lover, a real connoisseur, extremely delicate/Love him skilfully and make Him love you.

The difference between the two? The first one is by a man. The second one is by a woman. Patriarchy at its best!

Thankfully, somebody by name Nagarathnamma revived the poems of Muddu Pazhani and a classical Bharatanatyam dancer has been performing this too on stage.

Let us move away from the South towards the West. A folk dance form was extremely popular during the 18^th and the 19^th Century. This form called Lavani traces its origins to the Marathi folk theatre Tamasha which was an expression of socio-religious-political views of the masses. It is said that it was used to entertain soldiers who were injured during the war. There were even two branches of Lavani- Nirguni, which was spiritual, and Shringari, which as the name suggests is erotic and naughty. The former is now obsolete while the latter still exists. It was mainly performed by women from ‘backward communities’(it is said that people from the ‘upper caste’ loathe to perform this coquettish  dance form) , but cross-dressed men performed as well. Now, there are many cross-dressed men who are Lavani dancers.

Used often in Marathi and in some Hindi films, Lavani found its way to Tamizh films thanks to the Maestro(I am not sure if there was a Lavani dance sequence in any old Tamizh film. Somebody can clarify on this!).

‘Pollada MadanabhaNam’ from ‘Hey Ram’(2000) is an authentic Lavani song. Yet the tune and the orchestration are by the Maestro. In a way, one can say that he improvised on an original Lavani song and still we see the Raaja stamp throughout.

Based on Pahaadi, a raga which can take any avatar, the song starts with lines in Marathi. With the Dilruba and the Dholaks acting as the backbone, the song bristles with melody in the voice of Kavita Krishnamurty.

The interlude is filled with lined motifs. If the Dholak makes us visualise the dance, the Dilruba makes us see music. It is deep, resonant and emotionally redolent.

What adds to the experience is the chorus voice (men and women). The jatis rendered by the male chorus sound as if there is a secret waiting to be revealed.

The secret probably is revealed in the first CharaNam in which the first segment sounds poignant in Mishra Pahaadi and the second segment jumps with exultation.

The second CharaNam has a rhythmic sway with sprightly variations and buoyancy. There is an unmistakable sense of joy. After all, sensuality is to be celebrated.

And we Indians love Eroticism, don’t we?

https://chirb.it/4Oc45s

Wisdom

That young man was walking on the road in his village when he heard these lines from the radio, ‘ILamai ellam veRum kanavumayam idhil maRaindhathu sila kaalam/ theLivum aRiyaamal mudivum theiriyaamal mayangudhu ethirkaalam’ (youth is full of dreams and a part of life is lost already/ future is full of illusions). He was just about 18 then and having seen many ups and down already (more of the former), he thought ‘oh, my life is gone’.

So, was he disillusioned?

Far from it.

But this song impacted him very much because of the character in the movie and most importantly because of the tune.

Sometime later, he heard these lines from a different song ‘Vaazhkkai endRaal aayiram irukkum/vaasal thoRum vedhanai irukkum/vandha thunbam edhu vandhaalum vaadi ninRaal oduvathillai/Edhaiyum thaangum idayam irunthaal iRudi varaikkum amaidi irukkum’( Life is full of problems/Miseries keep knocking at your door and will not go away if you get bogged down/Have a heart of steel and feel the peace till the end) and these lines reinforced his belief and faith in everything. Who that ‘young man’ was will be said a little later (unless you have already guessed it), but now the focus is on the gentleman who wrote those lines.

There are many things unique about KaNNadasan and let me try and list out just a few of these:

1. Spontaneity

He can rattle off words in no time. All he needed were the situation in the movie and details about the character. It is of course not that difficult to reel off meaningless words (ask the present day lyricists) but in Kaviyarasar’s case, each and every letter was meaningful and significant.

2. Aesthetics

Not only were(are) the words meaningful but these were(are) beautiful too. The story of giving 20+ charaNams for ‘Ezhu swarangaLukkuL’ and leaving MSV sir and KB confused(about which one to take and which one to leave) has already been narrated by me in some of my earlier posts.

3. Down to earth

Simplicity was his forte. Hardly did he use any tough or difficult word in his songs. And even complex things would be told in very simple words. See this-

‘Naan kaadal enum kavitai thandhen kattilin mele/Andha karuNaikku naan parisu thandhen thottilin mele’

Can ‘that’ act be put more succinctly?

4. Genuine love for Tamizh

Wherever possible, he would praise the language of Tamizh. In ‘Kallellam maaNikka kallaaguma’, he describes the beauty of a woman. But look at the third line- Sollellaam thooya Tamizh sollaaguma..

5. Range

Of all the points, I find this to be the most defining. Let me explain.

A poet is expected to touch upon or cover many things in life and many great poets in the world have done this. When it comes to film music, the poets (lyricists) have to operate with a lot of constraints. And yet some fabulous songs-which shine with glory - have been written over a period of time. But in my humble opinion, no lyricist other than KaNNadasan has covered so many topics in film songs. I am not going to list out the topics now but let me say that he excelled in romantic songs as much as he excelled in philosophical songs.

Now, see this- Vaazhkkai enbathu vyaapaaram/ varum jananam enbathu varavaagum /adhil maraNam enbadhu selavaagum

(Life is a business/Birth is the credit/ Death is the debit)

Or

SendRavanai kettaal vandhu vidu enbaan/Vandhavanai kettaaL senRu vidu enbaan

(the one who has gone will ask us to come/the one who has come here will ask us to go)      

And to think that this was the same poet who wrote ‘ Naan pesa nanippathellam nee pesa veNdum’ or ‘UNdenRu solvadhundhan kaNNallava, illai endRu solvadhundhan idai allava’….

So much to say about this genius and his works but let me stop here for obvious reasons..

And now for the incident quoted in the beginning..

I am sure many of you would have guessed who that ‘young man’ was. If you haven’t, let me tell you that it was our own Raaja sir.

The Raaja-KaNNadasan combination produced some unforgettable gems in a short period of 5 years. On this special day-the birth anniversary of the genius poet-, let me take up a philosophical song.

‘NallaveRkellaam SatchigaL ReNdu’ from ‘Thyagam’(1978) has an unmistakable air of serenity and the reason is not far to seek. It has a beautiful tune based on a raga called Vaasanti which is known for its poignant feel, the orchestration is simple and yet piercing and the lyrics are meaningful as always.

It starts with the humming of TMS (though well past his prime, it must be said that he did render the song with aplomb). Of course there is that subtle bell sound too prior to this, but the highlight of the prelude in my opinion is the flute which first gives a sleek silhouette and then moves with unique elegance along with the folk stringed instrument.

The pensive violins give way to the guitar which sounds philosophically in the first interlude. But it is the flute again which steals the show. It moves languorously with that touch of melancholy. The slow circular movement in the end pinches our hearts. Can pinching be so pleasurable too?

The second interlude starts with the violins yet again but this time with western classical contours. The single violin which is superimposed on its own family, is wistful and arresting. But, it is the flute which scores yet again. Steeped in melody, it lends majesty and poise.

And now for the lyrics..

This genius wrote long back that if it is God, it is God/if it is statue, it is just statue(deivam endRaal adhu deivam/veRum silai endRaal adhu silaidhaan).

Now in this song, he says ‘Look at a stone with faith,  and you can see the God there’.

In the first charaNam, he talks about the drying up of rivers and asks who is responsible for that-rivers or the fate.

He invokes the Divine force again in the second charaNamm praising his superior qualities. But what I find most interesting and intriguing are the last two lines where he says ‘ When a person decides to do harm or cause trouble,  he doesn’t cry; Have the heavens ever fallen down on the earth?’

These two lines need a thorough study. Usage of similes is not uncommon in poems. But in this case, the first line talks about negativity while the second line talks about great men. Why this contradiction? Does he equate bad people/deeds with the heavens?

This is where the brilliance of the poet comes to the fore. What he means is this-

Bad people have no sense of remorse. Good people never stoop that level and are always great.

A new dimension to contrasts in poetry..

And this is what sets him apart and makes him an 'Emperor of Poetry!.

Illusions become Dreams and Dreams become Reality when one has faith.

Any doubts? Ask the ‘young man’ who got inspired and subsequently became the unconquered Emperor of Film Music..

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