Ambuli

Last week, the world was witness to a grand spectacle on the sky.

The moon known for its shiny white colour turned blood red, black, black and white and then finally white. It also acquired the name ‘Blue’ though only on paper. I wonder how it would be if the moon turned blue one day. Would it make the world more poetic?

Can the moon and poetry be separated anyway?

This was what was running in my mind as I was looking up at the sky and shooting pictures of the moon with my newly acquired phone. Well, if somebody had said this say about a decade ago, people would think it was a typo or a printing mistake or a slip of the tongue or would even brand the person who said this as ‘lunatic’(look at the moon connection here too!). Aren’t phones meant for talking? Phone and pictures? Crazy!But that is what technology is about, right? Anyway, this is besides the point (or is it?).

As I was trying to capture the marvel, my mind was full of songs on the moon. I did not make any effort to even hum those tunes, as it was not my intention to drive away people from that beautiful location on that beautiful evening, though I was standing alone, keeping a safe distance from everybody.

What is it that which makes poets across the world enamoured of the moon? Is it the colour? Or is it its shine? Is it its light? Why do poets compare a woman’s beauty with that of the moon?

These questions gave rise to more questions (is there any end to questions at all, in this world?) and therefore I stopped asking questions and instead allowed my mind randomly to play the songs pertaining to the moon. This exercise enhanced my experience and made the eclipse one of the most unforgettable ones.

I shall try and talk about the various dimensions of the moon touched by the poets, in some of my future posts whenever possible as the topic does excite me. For now, let me focus on a song in which moon finds a place not just in the Pallavi but also in the first CharaNam. But it doesn’t just stop there..

It is not without a multiplicity of reasons that ‘ILaiya Nila PozhigiRadhu’ from ‘PayaNangaL Mudivathillai’(1982) is liked by one and all(show me a person who doesn’t like this song and I will order that person to be banished to Mars!).  If the wordings show the fertile imagination of the lyricist(Why are the clouds wandering?/ Have they lost the address?/Is that why they cry?/And does that fall as the Rain?), the rendering style of the singer makes one feel peppy and calm at the same time(see how he sings ‘azhudhidomo’ with a smile!don’t you see and feel the beautiful paradox there?). But what really steals the show is the music. No, I am not biased here and let it not be misconstrued as an effort to degrade somebody. In fact, not often does one find the lyrics and music gelling so beautifully in a Tamizh Film Song (that is post -KaNNadasan-Viswanathan-Ramamurthi era!) .

But the fact is the moment we listen to the song, two things strike instantly.

One –The tune.

Two- The Guitar.

The tune set in C minor makes us feel the moon. When it changes scale –to C major- and then again to minor, later on, the transitions appear so smooth and seamless that it is impossible not to think of the moon again.

Many people say that the song is a lesson for people aspiring to learn guitar. I would agree with this only partially, because it would take the wind of somebody’s sails if that ‘somebody’ was a guitar student and that somebody started playing the notes of the interludes.

Another speciality of this song is the use of just a handful of instruments, with the guitar family alone dominating-lead, bass and rhythm.

The beginning of the song is rather simple. Only few of his songs start without a prelude and ‘ILaiya Nila’ is one of them. But coming to think of it, thiscannot be called as a ‘direct start’. The Pallavi does not start directly, though SPB renders the entire Pallavi in the beginning. Am I contradicting myself?

Let me explain. ILaiyaraaja is known for his different kinds of preludes and all these have instruments with some preludes being decorated with the humming of the vocals. In songs without a prelude (Thavikkudhu Thayangudhu for example), the Pallavi starts directly. But ‘ILaiya Nila’ is slightly different. The wordings of the Pallavi are sung but without following a time signature. It cannot be called as a ‘viruththam’ too. What adds to this is the strumming of the guitar which backs the vocals.

And as it ends, starts the Pallavi following the time signature (4-beat/chatushram) with the backing of the percussion. The subtle keys and a couple of guitars back as well and needless to say this enhances the beauty of the Pallavi.

What makes the first interlude wondrous, is not just the lead guitar. It is the bass guitar -which is no doubt subtle- complementing the lead guitar in almost all phrases. Now, as the guitar segment ends, the scale changes to the major scale. The flute plays in the major scale, giving a feel of Hamsadhwani. But forget the technical aspects for some time and listen to the flute as it is. Doesn’t it give you the vision of the full moon on a dark breezy night?

The major scale continues in the CharaNam in which each line seems to show the different dimensions of the moon. It goes back to the minor scale in the last line (a line not easy to render!).

Does this major-minor shift symbolise the waxing and waning of the moon? Yes and No-the former because that is our own interpretation and No because he doesn’t think of all these while composingJ.

If I were to say that the second interlude is a marvel, it would be an understatement, for no word in English or in any other language can fully justify the guitar piece in this interlude.

I can write that it excites, enthrals, bewitches, charms, fascinates, attracts, allures, entices, dazzles...but will that be enough?

Even if 100 adjectives are used, can one describe this-technically and poetically- and claim to have done full justice?

Impossible!

Just like how impossible it is to describe the Super Blue Blood Moon!

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