How to name it?

 The tune of 'Kodiyile Malliyappoo' from 'Kadalora KavithaigaL '(1986) can melt any heart and make us fall in love. With yekkam (surely no English word can be a substitute!) written all over, Jayachandran and Janaki take us to an utopian world where only two souls exist- a la Bharati’s KaaNi nilam.

 

Starting directly without a prelude, the soft Pallavi is indeed in two ragas, with the first two lines in KiravaNi and the last phrases in the in the lines that follow in ShaNmukhapriya. The CharaNams are somewhat long and go at a leisurely pace (doesn’t love too move leisurely?).Alien notes peep in here as well but these only add to the beauty. The pause after each phrase in the first half of the CharaNams accentuate that feeling of ‘yekkam’.

 

The strings, bells, keys, and the bass strings in the first interlude continue the ‘yekkam’ while the emotions evoked by the second interlude can never be expressed in words. A very different sounding instrument backed by the cello moves us, the flute that follows pierces us and the keys and strings bring tears to our eyes.

 

Yekkam….for?

 

Circle

 The lady sings ‘Saamajavaragamana’. Just towards the end, as the swaras are sung, an alien swara peeps in in the akaaram. Her father yells and asks her to say the arohanam/avarohanam of Hindolam. He then asks as to how ‘rishabham’ entered Hindolam. That night, he lights the camphor on his palm and shows it around the deities at home. The lady -his daughter- massages the palm with a cloth soaked in cold water and sings -sa ga ma dha ni Sa.

As I was watching the afore-mentioned sequence in the cinema hall, my eyes were moist. Involuntarily, tears started welling up.

People familiar with old movies/musicals would have easily identified the movie I am referring to. For the benefit of others, let me say that the name of the movie is ‘Shankarabharanam’. It is an undeniable fact that this movie created waves-literally and figuratively- and even people who were not classical music aficionados, thronged the theatres.

Personally speaking, ‘yours truly’ was just then getting into music, courtesy- a gentleman whose name is known to all here. ‘Getting into’ can be interpreted in different ways, and therefore I am not getting deep into that now. All I can say is that I was trying to understand the basics of music though the sense of appreciation was already in place. Honestly, I did not know even ‘akaaram’ had  swaras and that alien notes can creep in there too. But the sequence left an indelible mark in me, a mark which still continues to exist and which shows up its head, dancing on its hood whenever I watch the movie (I have watched it several times after this, thanks to that word called ‘technology’).

Though there are many reasons for that indelible mark, the most prominent one is the gentleman who conceived and executed the film.

K.Viswanath!

A name that reverberated in every nook and corner in South India those days. What made this film maker unique was not just his affinity for fine arts-music and dance in particular- but the way he showcased these in his films with a special sense of aesthetics, blending emotions and intellect, which elevated the audience to a different level. He stood out for his eye for detail.

Let me quote one more sequence from the same movie. The chief protagonist, Shankara Sastri gets down at a railway station along with the lady who considers him as her Guru. His accompanying artistes frown, put up a long face and keep walking with bewilderment. The Tyagaraja kriti- Enta nerchina in Suddha Dhanyasi is played in the background. The Pallavi when translated means – Even erudite scholars are slaves of women. That the relationship between the two is as pure as gold is known to the audience. Yet, the kriti reflects the perception of others, that is ‘from another angle’. When Shri.K.V.Mahadevan (the composer of the movie) was asked about the different kritis played in the background to suit the sequence, he humbly credited it to Viswanath saying it was he who suggested all that!

After watching Shankarabharanam, I started fantasising about this director working with the gentleman I adore the most in music. Let me hasten to add that the music of Shankarabharanam is outstanding and that I have nothing against KVM.

My dream came true after 3 years when that magic combination happened. I am not going to talk much about this now. The number of posts I have written about the music which oozed out and flowed like the Krishna and the Godavari, stands testimony to the Viswanath-Raaja combination. In fact, it was Viswanath gaaru who first coined the term ‘ee laya raaja’. Regular attendees of Raaja Deepam may recall that the June 2^nd 2021 session was totally dedicated to one movie, with special posts in Tamizh and English on a particular song followed by discussion and explanation on the entire background score.

Today’s song is from that movie as well.

The speciality of ‘Kottaga Rekkalochana’ (Swarna Kamalam) is its simplicity. Based on Mohanam-with a dash of alien notes here and there- the song is classically folksy. The akaaram of SPB to the backing of the single-stringed instrument, gently sways in the air making it seem as if everything in the world is floating. Unmatched in spirit, the flute goes around with glee. The strings move like the waves and even as we get immersed in this spectacle, the Pallavi starts.

The Pallavi is charming as well as haunting, the former because of the tune and the latter because of the interspersing flute melody.

The santoor caresses. The flute blushes. This romance between the two seemingly different instruments marks the beginning of the first interlude. As if goaded by this, the strings gush and move with gay abandon. The subtle sound of a stringed instrument in the background makes one feel the breeze which blows on the river banks. With sensitivity and intensity, the santoor smiles while the strings grin with friendly ferocity.

The finely etched lines in the CharaNams shimmer with grace, with the voice of Janaki enhancing the experience. The sudden dash of alien notes towards the end, gives a soothing touch.

It is the Shehnai in the second interlude which steals the show/heart. With alluring depth, the instrument shows the hidden ecstasy giving a dazzling delineation in the process. The repetitive sets of notes from a different instrument which is replicated now and then, albeit subtly by the flute, seems like short glints of colourful sparks. The Shehnai and the flute engage themselves in short musical conversations, but as if to show that nothing ends in this world, the strings move with coherency and fluidity.

Yes, there is no end…

…to/for art and artistes!

Ps: This post was written in Feb 2023 in the group on Facebook, when the legend left this world.

Ethos

 What is energy? What is spirit?

This is not a post on science class nor is it an article on occult sciences. But the idea behind that question is simple. I just want to know if any of you have experienced vibrations in some particular places(not during an earthquake or during a flight/train journey).

At least I have experienced such vibrations. It is said that one experiences this when the energy levels match with that of ours.

Take some temples; or concert halls; or even places not popular but are very special to us. I shall come to the last mentioned in a while.

That is why, places where some legends were born or where they grew up or even places frequented by them carry that value. And that is why, such places are converted into memorials.

In Salzburg, Austria – the place where one of the greatest composers of Western Classical Music lived has been converted into a beautiful museum which houses the artefacts used by the composer.

In Bonn, Germany, Beethoven’s birthplace is a memorial, museum and an institution.

In Eisenach, Germany, there is a museum dedicated to Bach with more than 250 exhibits.

At Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, England, a 16^th Century half-timbered house has been restored and has been converted into a small museum.

Then we have memorials for John Keats, William Wordsworth and for many other poets and writers. A book ‘Second Thoughts’ written by Navtej Sarna, a book which I own with a lot of pride, describes the houses and memorials of many writers and poets across the world.

What about our ‘Bharat’? (and I am focussing only on Dakshin Bharat as of now).

Ettayapuram- the place where Mahakavi was born is very poorly maintained, though there is a MaNi Mandapam which was constructed thanks to the efforts of writer Kalki.

Thiruvaiyaaru- Musicians who make a living singing a majority of his kritis, assemble once in a year, ‘sing’ the pancharatnas looking at the TV cameras, pack their bags and never bother to even look at that place for the next 362 days. Since I went there during one of those 362 days, I know what condition that place is in.

There are more such namesake memorials in our country, but let me stop here.

One must thank their stars for the existence of such memorials. But many legends do not have even this ‘luxury’.

So, why am I writing all these now?

The house of T.N.Rajarathnam PiLLai- considered to be the father of Nagaswaram, who would play a single raga Todi from midnight to early morning with people listening with rapt attention, and a vidwan who was asked to perform on AIR on the 15^th of August 1947- was razed to the ground 4 years ago!

What shocked me was the apathy of the Government of Tamizh Nadu who decided to shut their eyes and be a mute spectator. It is more shocking because Karunanidhi, the former Chief Minister of TN was a huge fan of Rajaratnam PiLLai and had wanted to convert his house into a memorial. But somehow this did not happen during his time. It is unfortunate that people in his lineage do not share his musical taste and also the sensitivity to respect legends.

What is also surprising and shocking is the fact that none from the Carnatic music fraternity have bothered to raise their voice. Goes to show that most of them just pay lip service and keep their mouth shut when it comes to some real issues.

Now, I was mentioning ‘places which are not popular but are special to us’. TNR’s house is an example. Likewise, places frequented by us during our childhood also carry that stamp of speciality.

The song of the day is special essentially because of this fact.

‘ALLi thandha bhoomi’ from NaNdu (1981) kindles such memories without a doubt.

Rendered by Malaysia Vasudevan in a very different voice, the song has nostalgia written all over it.

Take the beginning. The humming tinged with a sense of poignancy is backed by the strings of the guitar- which plays the chatushram beats with joy- is followed by the keys which is backed by the bass guitar and this is followed by a unique sound which almost ‘speaks’ to us.

The Pallavi starts and to our surprise- and not to our surprise- it is set in Tisram , the 3-beat cycle and not in Chatushram (prelude). Laya Raaja does not stop here. The beats follow a peculiar pattern in tisram – ta ta tataaa- which is 1 2 3 4/ 1 2 but played with gaps giving a unique complexion. There is more too.

The word ‘ini’ in the second line is rendered plainly the first time and is extended the second time to make it sound like off beat though it follows the beat.

In fact, rather than an experiment done just for the sake of being done, this one is in line with the emotions and the feelings conveyed by the song.

Doesn’t the bell sound in the beginning of the first interlude remind you of your school bell? To me, it does! And along with that it also gives me some memories of many things associated with the school.

The keys that follow to the backing of the rhythm pad reminds me of the games we played and the fights we had. The two sets of strings with different melodies in different octaves remind me of different sets of friends and the debates we used to have. The guitar which bends towards the end, makes me feel melancholic.

The first CharaNam gives me memories of the paths and ways I took to reach my schools(in Madras, Hyderabad and Cuddalore).

The guitar playing the same melody repeatedly with the different sets of strings playing different melodies again remind me of my college surrounded by the sea which had different colours in different places and dirctions.

The flute and the single-stringed instrument remind me of the birds perched on the trees on my way to the college and their songs.

The second CharaNam reminds me of my trips to the library and of me sitting under the trees with a book in my hand.

Life is a lesson. What we experience cannot be taken away. This is what is energy. This is what is spirit.

Wish people in our country were more sensitive to this fact and respected what needs to be respected!

 

Raaja and KaNNa

‘He kept the pearl in the oyster and gave you’ – He.

‘She is a golden oyster’- She.

And who are they singing to? To their child as a lullaby.

These lines which appear in the third CharaNam, typify both the composer and the lyricist.

The flute in the beginning followed by the santoor and then the strings, set the mood for a different lullaby.

The santoor and the flute appear again but it is the sudden group of strings -which give shades of western classical- and the mandolin, which steal the show in the first interlude.

The second interlude takes us to a ‘neithal’ land with the humming, the single-stringed instrument and the santoor, singing with glee.

It is the santoor again in the third interlude, followed by the flute and see waves after waves.

Can the love in the family be depicted better than this just with music?

‘You are like the lamp in the temple, oh my dear with the plaited hair, the one who drinks milk lying on the cradle’- says mother.

‘Even if the catamaran disappears in the sea, a son’s face will always be etched in the father’s heart/ You, my dear wife, is the breeze while I am the boat’ – says the father.

Can a relationship between a husband and a wife and between a child and parents be described simpler than this?

That is why, they are the rare pearls found in deep ocean.

If you have not yet deciphered as to who those ‘two’ are, please read the fourth line. Or better still, listen to the third line in the Pallavi!

Dvaita or Advaita?

 My tryst with music started at a very young age without my being aware. Glued to that gadget called the radio- which would take around 2 minutes to ‘boot’, being a valve set-, I would be tuning in the stations standing on a stool as the radio was kept on a stand. I still have memories of this(I was around 4 years then). Though I did not know the ABC of music(it is a different issue that the word has none of these alphabets), something in it attracted me. That ‘it’ was film music.

My parents would regularly listen to the Carnatic music concerts every morning, but it failed to make a positive impact on me. My mind would whisper ‘how boring!’, though I did not have the guts to say this to them. I would wonder what was there in that music which made them nod their heads and express their appreciation with ‘aahaas’. I would wait for my turn in the evening when I would keep turning the knob on the gadget to listen to songs that attracted me.

My father being in government service was transferred to a city away from my home state and this brought in a change. Tamizh film music was restricted to just around 15 minutes every evening on a station called ‘Vividh Bharati’. Over a period of time, I discovered a station on ‘short wave’ with the broadcast being done from our neighbouring country called ‘Sri Lanka’. Here too, it happened only in the evenings, but for a slightly extended time.

Being exposed to a new culture and a new set of peers, made me listen more to Hindi songs and also to Telugu songs. There was also a programme in the night on Wednesdays, a programme dedicated to Hindi film songs, about which I had written here long ago.

Cut to the year 1976. Being a voracious reader of Tamizh magazines, I got to know about a new film and a new film director. Both were making waves and I was wondering what it was all about. Mind you, it was an era where people had to wait very patiently to listen to their favourite songs and I did not have the opportunity to listen to the songs from that movie, despite my curiosity being aroused after reading the reports/interviews.

My wait finally ended when one day the station played a song from that movie. My first reaction – What is so great about this? There is always a rebel sleeping inside me like and animal and would wake up whenever it feels the need to ‘hunt’. After a couple of other movies and songs of that ‘new’ music director, I started feeling ‘Oh, this seems and sounds different’.

After about 8 months or so, I was in Madras to spend my vacation. It was a Sunday evening and I was at one of my relatives’ houses. A song started playing and though I had listened to it before, I felt something, a feeling not easy- in fact next to impossible to describe. Even now, when I reminisce about that evening, I get goosebumps and I even become meditative.

From then on, there was no stopping. Music which I had been listening to from my childhood, seemed so different and beautiful. Not just beautiful, but also deep. Not just beautiful and deep, but also mesmerising. I felt as if I had discovered something new. I started listening to Carnatic music and realised why it was so beautiful. After a couple of years, I started listening to Hindustani music and realised why it was divine. After some more years, I started listening to Western Classical and realised why it was divine. But all along, I was listening to the songs of that ‘new music director’ even as he was churning out song after song, with each one sounding different and beautiful. My thirst continued and it continues till date with me discovering new in music every day; with me discovering new in that ‘new music director’s music’ every day.

The song I am going to talk about on this Music Day, is not the one which was a turning point in my life, but the one which talks about the beauty of music.

The initial humming of Sujata, takes me to a garden full of green trees with the birds fluttering their wings with glee. When the bass guitar enters along with the percussion and the violins following, I feel as if I have become a bird.

The Pallavi, which is the prelude in the vocalised form, makes me believe that ‘yes, I am indeed a bird’.

The violin in the beginning of the first interlude confirms this. But when the group of violins enter, I start questioning myself- ‘Am I not a human?’. When the flute interjects the violins, which by now have gathered momentum, the question continues.

The question deepens in the CharaNam.

Even as the piped instruments romance with the bass guitar in the beginning of the second interlude, I straddle between the avian and human life. The duality continues until the flute sounds something towards the end.

‘Is this real or is it a dream?’- I ask myself after that flute piece.

My question continues..

And my quest continues..

 

Unconventionally Conventional

 

It may sound odd (or even, even!) but the fact is that a majority of the women folk in our country, do not have a choice when it comes to certain things in life and this includes choosing a life partner. I can feel the quizzical expressions from some of you, but let it be understood that I am talking about ‘a majority’ and therefore it will be nice if the cosmopolitan cities are not taken into consideration, though there are still girls and women even in such places whose mouths are gagged.

That is why, this song, in which the girl dictates terms to her suitor by describing her ‘dream wedding’, impressed me way back in 1982 when this song was released, and continues to impress me even after nearly 43 years.

‘Do not even think of marrying me, because you will suffer for sure’ says she. Her ‘conditions’ include the groom himself playing the Nagaswaram, the wedding happening in a train with the mantras rendered by foreigners, ‘naiyyandi melam’ by a group from Nochhikuppam, the groom carrying the plate with milk and fruits and yes, the groom falling at the feet of the bride.

This description of ‘dream wedding’ starts with a humming followed by the Pallavi (Vocals- Jency) with the flute appearing along with the vocals.

After a banter between the guitar(bass strings) and the distortion guitar, the saxophone takes over moving with gay abandon.

The Nagaswaram goes in pure Suddha Dhanyasi in the first CharaNam, while it plays the ‘NaiyaaNdi meLam’ in the next CharaNam.

The ‘Vaarayo thozha vaarayo’ segment completes the celebration.

A celebration of the assertion of a woman!

Unique

 ‘How is that the one seen in the picture on the wall, resembles the one who is present here?’

This used to be a repeat question on my mind whenever I stepped into that saloon. That ‘whenever’ was ‘often’ as my hair grew faster than the grey cells inside the shell it covered, thereby entailing my jaunts to that saloon. If the last-mentioned word conjures up an image of a swanky place with a/c and plush chairs in your mind, I request you to erase (or should I say ‘delete’?) that image from your mind before I say ‘1 2 3’. The entire area would have been around 100 sq.feet and there was just one fan with a huge sphere at the centre nodding its head even as it moved probably teasing me saying ‘You are nicely caught’( ‘nalla mattikkitte’ in English). The reason for this ‘gesture’ will be known in a while.

The picture on the wall depicted Lord Muruga with a spear and the ‘hair-dresser’ was a carbon copy of that image, at least as far as my eyes could comprehend, though I couldn’t comprehend the reason for this co-incidence. After some months, I asked my father – Do you see the resemblance? My father in his trademark style, laughed out loud(no, the acronym for this was coined much much later, the only ‘Lol’ I knew then was the sound made by the ‘Bhairavars’) and said he had not noticed it and would do so the next time we visited. That he concurred with me the next time, and appreciated me for my observation and imagination, need not be mentioned as I believe in being modest and do not believe in blowing my own trumpet ( it is a different issue that I do not own a trumpet, leave alone play!).

With the assurance that this ‘resemblance’ story will continue in one of my future posts, let me move on to the main story. My frequent visits to the saloon were necessitated by two factors basically. One, the school where I studied was very strict when it came to enforcing discipline and one of their strongest beliefs was that the children should never sport long hair. The teacher would call the students randomly, ask him to turn sideways and then show the back to see if that hair growth needed a harvest. I remember some students being sent back home with a message to go to the saloon immediately, have the harvesting done and go back to the class. It is a different issue that some students found this a nice way to bunk the class!

Two, the growth of my hair. The rate of growth was inversely proportional to the rate of growth of the cells in my brain, a fact which should be obvious for people who see me now (no, as I said I believe in being modest and humble!).

What is of primary importance is that I would shiver in my shoes (though I used to wear only Hawaii chappals) whenever the day of my visit to that place arrived. And this was not without any reason. The ‘cutting process’ those days involved a hand-held machine which would just rummage through the forest on the head and bring down the ‘trees’ in a jiffy, an act that would make the present- day real tree-choppers proud. Before this, a pair of scissors would be used to first trim the region. So far, so good. But what happens next?

The hair-dresser would first apply water on the nape of the neck and then take a knife. He would trim the hair there with the knife so that it gives a great appearance. Whether it gave a great appearance or not, the moment he took the knife, I would have the urge to use the rest room. Something would churn in my stomach. My palms would sweat. My entire body would start shivering. All these because I was scared of the knife(in fact, there were not many things I was not scared of, those days!). I would imagine the knife piercing through my neck and the red fluid inside the body oozing out with force. The placing of the knife too would give me some weird sensations, difficult to explain. Whether the sensations were because of the knife or because of my imagination, was (is) difficult to say. But the fact is like Yudhistira in Mahabharata, I would see and experience hell for a while.

I would try my best to avoid this ordeal by coaxing my father. He even had a word with the hair-dresser- who became his good friend – to use the knife mildly on me. But I wanted ‘no-knife’ absolutely, which never happened in those 4-5 years as far as my memory goes.

The song of the day does not talk about the knife, but the fact that it revolves around a ‘hair-dresser’ makes it a song for the occasion- my story as well as the ‘day’.  

What strikes one in ‘Senorita, I love You’ from Jhonny (1980) the moment the prelude starts is the guitar that sounds differently. The different sound is because of the phaser connected to the guitar and as far as I know ILaiyaraaja is the only film music composer in India to have used this prolifically. The special sound moves on backed by the rhythm guitar. The strings join in and play in the higher-octave as if possessed by a spirit. The small flute coos like a cuckoo, as the celebration continues. The strings then move in circles, as if to wind up the prelude. But can a circle end at all?

SPB takes over to make it linear, with the instruments sounding in between, making it alluring.

That this composer is capable of producing different sounds – sounds not heard of hitherto in film music- is known to the passionate followers of his music. This song is no exception. A very funny sound creeps in after the initial sound from the strings of the guitar. What makes this sound even more exciting is the backing from the guitar strings-which play constantly, the bass guitar, the drums and the strings which take turns forming an exquisite pattern. Did not somebody say that change is the only constant? That ‘change’ happens here.

The composition starts in B-minor and goes in this scale until the second half of the first interlude. Once the funny sounds end, the strings take over and now it goes in G-major. A minor shift making a major difference!

Moreover, the rhythm in 4/4, which sounded peppy until now, sounds gentle once the strings enter. In fact, for a while there is no percussion at all, though the time signature remains the same.

The two sets of strings play two different sets of notes simultaneously in two different styles. The flute which enters after a while, makes the entire experience subtly exhilarating.

The CharaNam continues in the major scale with the funny sounds appearing after the first two lines and lasting for a count of 8 (two 4/4 cycles). The lines shift to the minor scale towards the end.

If it was the funny sound in the first interlude, there is a very different sound from a different instrument (which sounds a lot like the violin!) in the second interlude which steals the show and our hearts. I will not be exaggerating if I say that it sounds like a lullaby, with the bass guitar enhancing the feeling. Just before this special instrument, there is that brass flute which surrounds us like how chilly air surrounds us in a mountain.

The strings move in the higher-octave, sans the percussion, spreading joy.

Does it convey something, the ‘it’ meaning the special sounds and the arrangement?

To me, it says ‘Each and every experience in life is special, whether it is with the knife used for trimming the hair or the resemblance between the image of the God and the man who performs his duties’.

How about you?

 

Eighth Wonder

 I keep asking this question often: How it is possible for ILaiyaraaja to bring out so much of emotions in music. Does he undergo such feelings while composing or does it just happen. A question very difficult to answer! But the fact remains that his music sounds great always. Is it because of his ability to evoke the right kind of emotions or is it because of his propensity to use classical techniques?

In my opinion, it is a combination of both.

Listen to ‘Kaalai paniyil aadum malargaL’ from ‘Gayathri’(1977). Even if one does not watch the video (in fact I am used to ‘listening’ to the songs and not ‘watching’ the songs), one is able to understand that it is sung by a young lady just after her wedding. She is shy, yet happy.

A very different tune, a very different voice (14- year old Sujatha) and a simply beautiful orchestration.. But look at the melody and the varying patterns of percussion in the CharaNams. Doesn’t the humming at the end of each CharaNam sound different and unique? It is because of a technique.

People who follow my posts in my other blog (https://rajamanjari.blogspot.com/ ), I am sure, remember the term ‘usi’. It is a technique in Carnatic Music in which the stress is given on even beats of a TaaLam. For example, if it is 4-beat Chatushra eka taaLam, stress is given on the 2nd  and the 4th beat and if it is a 3-beat tisram, stress is given on the 2nd(the 4th and the 6th if the 3 beats are broken down as 6 micro-beats) and so on.. This is more common in a Bharatanatyam performance-especially during the ‘alarippu’ which is generally the first item. In film music, ILaiyaraaja is the only composer to have used it so prolifically. One has to be very careful (and of course knowledgeable) while using ‘usi’ as the taaLa tends to sound off beat. It is absolutely like walking between two high-rise buildings on a thin but tight rope (in tamizh, we call it as ‘karaNam thappinaal maraNam’).

In ‘Kaalaipaniyil’(I am sure he used ‘usi’ for the first time in this song)-which is based on ‘tisram’ in the chatushra ekam cycle, he first changes the 3 beats to 4 beats in the percussion (tabla). He then gives stress on the 2nd and the 4th beat even as Sujatha continues to hum.

And what a feeling it gives!!

I feel even more romantic every time after listening to this song.

How about you?

 

Rhapsody

If I say that ‘one of my most unforgettable days is the day my first child was born’, I am sure you all will agree with me- provided you are married and have a child. 

I still remember that evening very well when the nurse came out of the labour room and showed us the little baby. I cried with uncontrollable joy, the kind of joy I had not experienced before. It will be an understatement to say that we were on Cloud 9 for the next 2-3 years. Holding him and putting him to sleep on the lap (and later on the shoulders), changing the nappies, feeding him, smiling and laughing with him, playing with him were all things which became part of our life. Each and every day was different and unique. Life had never been so beautiful!

 The rare gem of the day too talks about the joy of fondling a child. Thenil Aadum Roja from Avar Enakke Sontham (1977) is as soft as the breeze and as sweet as the honey. The santoor in the beginning and the flute which follows that hundred-stringed instrument from Kashmir, are full of energy. These give way to the humming (Suseela) before entering again and leading us to the Pallavi. 

 The Pallavi personifies happiness and the flute- between the lines- and the santoor at the end, jump with joy giving us an image of a child jumping and dancing. 

 The duo dominates the first interlude as well before the veena takes over. The combination of  western percussion and veena is different and might even sound odd but that was the time when this composer started experimenting with different sounds, a fact known to people who grew up during those days and listened to his compositions sequentially in the order of their release. 

 One gets reminded of Darwin while listening to the flute piece just towards the end of the first interlude. Isn't this a musical definition of the Theory of Evolution? 

It is ‘listening between the lines’ yet again in the CharaNam with the flute and the veena playing two short melodies one after the other, at the end of the first line. 

The structure of the CharaNam too is simple and beautiful in keeping with the mood of the song. The melody in the beginning is played again in the second interlude but with the sound of the veena being a welcome addition, and this itself gives a rousing start to the interlude. The flute enters yet again playing as softly as ever and one sees the budding Laya Raaja here with the slap bass which backs the flute melody, playing in 4 while the composition is set in 3. The interlude ends with the flute melody yet again but before that something happens. The solo-violin plays a melody which scythes through one’s heart. 

Poignancy –isn’t it part of one’s life too? 

 Life Lessons!

Grey Cells

 

Generally, if a movie is remade in some other language, the tendency of the Music Directors is to use the same song tracks and the BGM tracks (I am not talking about a dubbed movie, but a movie remade either with the same cast or a different cast). But Raaja sir, who is known for his innovative thinking seldom does this. At times, out of compulsion ( by who else, but our ‘ignosent’ directors?) he would have had to compromise but even in such instances, he would have shown some variation-either in the tune or in the interludes.

I am reminded now of a news item in a Tamizh magazine in 1983 when the audio of Sadma was released, by none other than Amitabh Bacchan, who incidentally wanted to play  Kamal’s role in the Hindi version but was politely refused by Balu Mahendra). The news item said ‘ILaiyaraaja has simply recycled the tamizh tunes. Why? No creativity?’

I was put down by this comment and wanted to check out the veracity. Since ‘net’ those days meant only a fisherman’s net and since I was living in an island, I had no access to the album. Thankfully, during the vacation we went to Madras and Sadma had just then released. When I listened to the songs in the Cinema Hall, I was wondering if that reporter had plugged his ears with cotton. Anyway, media has always been like this, right? And yes, this role as now been taken over by Social Media and the number of ‘reporters’/’critics’ has increased manifold!!

Let us now look at a beautiful piece from a Telugu movie-which needless to say was remade from Tamizh. The Bharathiraja directed Pudiya vaarpugaL was remade as Kotta Jeevitalu with Suhasini and Hari Prasad in lead roles. This is the title track of the movie far as I remember, the title score of the Tamizh version had the tune of ‘tam tana nam tana’ being hummed.

Here the piece starts with the prelude of ‘ChoLam vidakkaiyile’! What follows is a beautiful piece in the Kharaharapriya scale with obvious shades of Andhra folk. The Flute brings serenity while the keys between 1.10 and 1.27 add a new colour. The guitar that joins the flute in the beginning and whenever the piece is repeated and the strings from 2.02 –that jump with ‘ta ka/ ta ka dhi mi’- give the western contours without any frills.

Wish the ‘pedants’ and charlatans listened to such pieces. But will they? Even then, does it matter?

Raja4376 · Kottha Jeevitalu title music