‘Aapko
wahaan se Bharat kaisa dikh raha hai?'
(How does India look to you from there?)
‘Saare jahaan se accha’
(Most beautiful).
People who grew up in the ‘80s
can never forget this conversation which was broadcast ad nauseam on AIR just before the 9pm news bulletin. The person who asked
the question was the late Prime Minister Indira
Gandhi and the one who replied was Rakesh
Sharma, the first ever Indian citizen to go to space. This conversation
took place when the latter was still in space (he spent 7 days in space).
Though 35 years have
passed since this happened, the conversation still rings in my ears not least
because of the excitement in the voice of the cosmonaut; ‘excitement’ which
is difficult to define. As a matter
of fact, I was too excited as well when the first Indian went to space but my excitement is different from the excitement of a man who was seeing the entire world from top. And
even now when that voice is replayed
in my mind as I write this, I can easily make out that the cosmonaut did not
quote that first line of Iqbal’s
poem just for the sake of doing it or for grabbing headlines (he had already grabbed the headlines because of his
achievement anyway!). I could feel that unmistakable genuineness which stemmed
from not just a sense of pride but also from that sense of ‘wow’. It was a kind
of expression reserved for people
who have that sense of aesthetics.
In any case, the expression was very special.
So, very recently when I read that researchers from the University of Pennsylvania’s positive
psychology centre are involved in a mission of studying the emotions astronauts commonly recount
when they look at that oblate spheroid
shaped body called as the Earth from
space, I felt very excited. They
call this as ‘Overview effect’ and it seems the researchers watch sunsets in
beautiful places to understand the
emotions and feelings of the people on the spacecraft who ‘watch’ the earth
from top. They are in the process of studying
the excerpts of interviews given by the astronauts. Though the research is
still on, they are unanimous in saying that the experience of the astronauts(and therefore the emotions) are more extreme than any general or natural
phenomenon and that it is overwhelming
and even life changing.
In a way- or rather in many ways- certain human emotions during certain experiences
cannot be defined nor can it be explained. I have often written here about the emotions evoked by music in general and certain songs
or background pieces in particular.
It might surprise many if I say that what matters
to me the most are the feelings/emotions
when I listen to music more than the raga
or the swaras. No doubt a song is composed using swaras and concomitantly a raga/scale, but these play a lesser role
when it comes to the overall experience. There is something more than just swaras/ragas which give us that
overwhelming experience. And when we have that experience, everything loses its
meaning and ceases to exist.
Whenever I listen to ‘Adhikaalai nerame’ from ‘MeeNdum oru kaadhal kathai’(1985), I undergo such an experience. Of course, it doesn’t mean
it doesn’t happen with many other songs but somehow this song is very special.
What makes it special is its unpredictability.
Generally, his pallavi and charaNams follow a logical pattern. The
lines may not be predictable but at the same time these will be organised. Most importantly the tune doesn’t deviate. Same is the case
with the interludes. In other words,
the composition will be unpredictably predictable. Then there
are songs which can be called as predictably unpredictable. I shall talk
more about this category in one of
my future posts. But there are also compositions where the tune deviates from the original and may not look organised (at least on paper). These fall
under the unpredictably unpredictable
category. And it is such compositions which give that very special feeling. ‘Adhikaalai nerame’ is one such
composition.
If you listen to the
song, I am sure you will understand the real import of my statement. As per the
story of the movie, the hero and the
heroine are special children. They live in their own sweet
world totally oblivious to the noise in the external world. The tune is suffused with that special innocence. But more importantly
it is very unpredictable.
Take the pallavi. The first line makes us see the dew drops
on the petals of flowers. The second
line shows the light and darkness
and the third line shows the
moonlight. Feeling wise, it is happiness, pain and pleasure and nostalgia.
No, beyond this I cannot define the feelings/emotions I undergo
when I listen to the lines in the charanams.
Even the beginning is
so beautiful and very different. The three
sets of strings rise slowly but
steadily one after the other with the keys
that follow giving a special bell sound
and moving constantly. Is there a connection between the strings pieces and the keys
sound?
Listen to the first
interlude. The first section is
dominated by the different sets of strings with each one playing
different melodies. Suddenly, the flute
takes over and plays a melody with
unobtrusive energy. It reminds one of a plaintive wail of a bird in a forest
which is separated from its mate. The guitar/keys
lead to the charaNam, but again how
different each melody sounds.
The strings appear
again in the second interlude yet
again in different sets welling up a
gamut of emotions. It hurts; it pains; it makes us cry; it makes us sob; it
makes us smile. But what follows is
magical and also mystical. The twin-violin
to the backing of some bass instruments
plays a melody. Is it a lullaby? Is it peppy? Is it melancholic? Is it lovable?
Is it love itself?
The strings join
together and play thrice giving a
pause in between.
Are there pauses in emotions?
Isn’t silence itself
emotional?
Are emotions predictable?
Do these questions carry any meaning?
