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?