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..

Check this out on Chirbit

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