Law of Thermodynamics

 Why do we keep Kolu?

First of all, for the uninitiated, kolu is the arrangement of dolls on steps ( not staircase!) during Navaratri. While the number of steps could vary depending on the space and resources available, the number should always be odd- though this may sound odd! The period of Navaratri, which is nine days (and nights) after the new moon in the Tamizh month of PurattAsi, is considered to be very auspicious, as it is dedicated to Shakti and the three forms of Shakti- Durga, Lakshmi, Saraswati. Shakti is Energy and it is believed that the spiritual energy is at its peak during this period.

So, what is the significance of Kolu (a.k.a.Golu) which is kept essentially in South India and how is it related to spiritual energy?

It is a proven fact that one's energy levels go up while indulging in any form of art. This indulgence could be performing could be performing or watching or listening to others' performances. Secondly, when like-minded people gather for and with a purpose, the level of energy goes up. Therefore, keeping Kolu, inviting others to their homes and make them sing, make people more vibrant and positive. Thirdly, arranging the dolls itself is an art and is a form of expression. Fourthly, it is said that those days, clay was a by-product obtained while desilting the irrigation canals and dolls were made of this clay. These dolls became popular and the process continued. Note that the desilting of canals happened during the months of Aadi and AavaNi - the months preceding Purattaasi.

Whatever it is, Kolu has come to stay though with a lot of innovation. Let us celebrate Kolu and Navaratri, with a song.

Recently, my son and I were discussing the Raga Shree and the use of 'padhanipama' in the raga. Just to deviate slightly by getting a little technical, let me tell you that quite a few ragas in the Carnatic system of music, has what is called 'prayoga', which is the same group of swaras appearing ubiquitously in the raga. In fact, this is loosely and equivalent of leitmotif  and this gives a particular raga, its identity. As far as my knowledge goes, 'padhanipama' prayoga is a later addition. 

I told my son, "Even Tyagaraja did not use it" adding "because he did not like it". I went on to add "ILaiyaraaja does not like it too". When he asked how I knew this(the second one), I told him in jest that he himself mentioned it to me. 

My thoughts veered to this song based on Shree and my fingers clicked on the song stored in my system. I decided to write about that song instantly and the reason is obvious. In fact, I had elaborately written about this song in my other blog long ago (https://rajamanjari.blogspot.com/2008/11/ilaiyaraajas-music-is-rich.html). But revisiting a song and writing about it again, gives me pleasure, a kind of pleasure not easy to put in words.

Starting with the drone of the tanpura followed by a sloka on Vinayaka, the beginning of 'Devi Durga Devi' (Sankeerthana- 1986), is auspicious with the very brief dance jatis ( Madurai Srinivasan) enhancing the divine feeling.

Energy flows in the voice of SPB and Vani Jayaram. Backed by the mrudangam and the subtle sound of the ankle bells, the Pallavi brims with energy. Even before one bats an eyelid, one feels the raga.

Is this potential energy or kinetic energy?

The veeNa and veNu reverberate with powerful phrasings of the raga in the beginning of the first interlude. As if being challenged, the mrudangam, which dashed off syllables with pulsating weight in the Pallavi, enters again and plays with intensity. It is of course a friendly banter with the veeNa- veNu blowing like a gentle sea breeze.

It is beauty personified as the mrudangam reverberates with different patterns in chatushram in the CharaNams.

The second interlude has a volley of swaras rendered with lucidity and grace even as one gets to see the shimmering beauty of the raga(yes, without 'padhanipama'!). The mrudangam and the tabla alternate between the lines, the former being sounded when the female voice renders the swaras and the latter being played when the male voice renders the saahitya.

Creativity + Innovation = Energy.

Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, but can be transformed!

Does this answer the question asked in the beginning?

Rajghat

 

What does religion mean to me?

On the face of it, the question may sound inappropriate on Oct 2^nd but scratch the surface and you will agree that it is not more relevant than on this date. I say this not with a sense of triumphalism but with a sense of pain which is indescribable and to a great extent incomprehensible.

Rather than answering the question directly, let me quote what the gentleman who was born exactly 150 years ago at a place called Porbandar had to say:

‘’While I believe myself to be a Hindu, I know that I do not worship God in the same manner as any one or all of them’’.

If that statement sounds slightly complex, let me quote one more:

‘’The need of the moment is not one religion for the whole of human kind, but mutual respect, equal regard and tolerance of the devotees of different religions’’.

Not many statements can sound as candid as this one and not many statements are as relevant as this one in 2019.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was a multi faceted personality- one which had varied dimensions. But personally speaking, it is his genuine belief in treating all religions and faith equally which appeals to me the most and this is not without any reason.

At the cost of sounding politically incorrect, I feel I should not hesitate to voice my opinion on the happenings in the country now. If lynching and questioning the other person’s right to eat what he/she feels is right have become a practice, forcing others to ‘chant’ the name of ‘our God’ has become the new norm.

If these can be called as pernicious, what can one say about the fight for a piece of land just to build a structure which is supposedly meant for worshipping ‘our god’. One wonders if God can be owned by somebody and if ‘your god’ can ever be inferior to ‘my god’. This is not as ludicrous as the venomous public statements by the so-called leaders who seem to have any qualms in talking ill of other religions and more importantly, people who follow those faiths. What that 'other' is, I am sure, is obvious to all.

If the Mahatma who said ‘ all worship the same God under different names’ and ‘to revile one another’s religion, to make reckless statements, to utter untruth, to break the heads of innocent men, to desecrate temples or mosques is a denial of God’ was alive today, I am not sure what he would have done looking at the way people fight in the name of God.

On this special day, I thought no song would be more appropriate than ‘Ram Ram’ from ‘ Hey Ram’(2000). But before that, I thought I must clarify one thing. ‘Ram’ to him was a more a symbol of universal love and less a religious deity. 

And now to the song..

Not many have the guts to chant Ram’s name in Salaat style. This composition starts with that. Is the call of the Muezzin for praying in the name of Ram a case of blasphemy or is it for communal harmony?

I shudder to think what would have happened if this song was released in 2019. Would there not have been a call to ‘ban’ the song as it ‘hurt the sentiments of the majority’? How dare can Ram be prayed that way? I cannot help recalling what happened sometime during last year when lumpen elements spread malicious information about carnatic singers singing ‘Christian songs in praise of Jesus in pure Carnatic ragas’ with a call to boycott such singers who were ‘involved in conversion’!!

Hats off to Raaja sir for composing those lines and to Kamal for singing those lines.

It is not that only the first line reminds one of Islamic prayers. The entire song, based on Sindhu Bhairavi has the contours of Arabic and Persian music and this has not been done without any purpose.

What is also amazing is the high-shruti on which the composition is based on. If high-shruti itself is not so easy to render, higher-octave in this is tougher. But the singers come out trumps.

The Salaat is followed by the percussion which plays ‘4/2/4/2/4’(ta ka dhi mi/ta -/ta ka dhi mi/ta -/ta - - mi). The ghatam , essentially a South Indian percussion instrument follows the western percussion. The piped instruments enter now and play Sindhu Bhairavi.

The seamless starting of the Pallavi is equally amazing.

The first interlude has the Arabic flavour first and then a Persian flavour. But the fact that it has the western classical shades cannot be denied.

Same is the case with the second interlude as well, though it must be said that there is more of Persian flavour which even makes one dance like a snake-that is if at all snakes can dance!

The call and response and the harmony in the CharaNams indicate just one thing to me.

‘Call’ your conscience whenever you are disturbed.

‘Respond’ to the atrocities without violence.

Spread ‘Harmony’ across the nation.

Conflux

 

‘How does a lady plait her hair? She takes three strands of hair, weaves the strands with the strands criss-crossing one another and at the end of it, what do we see- Three or two? This is how we should consider the river Saraswati too’.

This explanation was given by a speaker in Tamizh, during a religious discourse in Secunderabad during my formative years. Honestly, I don’t remember the name of the gentleman who said this, though I know he was a very popular figure as far as religious discourses are concerned. But his words remain firmly etched in my memory simply because of his ability to compare two similar and yet dissimilar things and connect the two so that the concept is easily understood by the audience. In a way, it was also a lesson for all aspiring teachers and most importantly trainers, a fact which I realise now after many years.

When I had to plait my little daughter’s hair for at least a month-when my wife travelled abroad- I was reminded of that speech again. Of course, it is a different issue that my wife wrote down each step on a piece of paper and that I kept referring it at least for a week before I managed to do that act successfully(how successful I was, only my daughter knows!).

No, this is not a post on plaiting hair and if at all you got the impression that I am going to talk about a song which describes the beauty of a woman’s hair, I would request you to not to jump to any conclusions and show patience.

The reason for my writing about that explanation has more to do with the river Saraswati and the place where it is supposed to be flowing and less with hair.

There are a lot of stories about the mythical river with major references in the Rig veda and in the Mahabharata. The origin of the river is supposedly in a place in the present day Afghanistan. But the place where the river Saraswati acquires significance is Allahabad, a city in U.P. Ganga and Yamuna meet at this place and it is believed that Saraswati is flowing underground and the place being called ‘Triveni Sangam’, meaning the meeting of three rivers. This in fact is the pride of Allahabad and leaving aside the mythology, the place where the rivers meet is a connoisseur’s delight and it is but natural for nature lovers to fall in love at first sight.

It is also natural for me to write about a song which describes that great city called Allahabad.

The beauty of ‘Shehar Hai Khoob Kya Hai’ from ‘Chal Chalein’(2009) lies in the way the city has been sketched poetically(lyrics:Piyush Mishra) and musically.

‘What a beautiful city!’ exclaims a group of students and then go on a trip across the city.

But before that the Master prepares them for the trip. And how?

The piano keys flutter and fly like butterflies, with the echo effect typifying the beautiful creatures going in different directions. The humming of Shreya backed by the various synth instruments show us the view of the ‘Sangam’ from the top.

‘What a Beautiful City!A place where the great Harivanshrai (Bachchan) lived. Feel the Ganga, Yamuna and the Swaying Saraswati’, sing the butterflies in the voices of Shreya Ghoshal, Shaan and Krishna Beaura.

The first CharaNam talks about the Big B, the Chaat, Intellectuals and Alfred Park where Chandrasekhar Azad laid down his life for the cause of Freedom while the second CharaNam talks about the home where our first PM was born, about the second PM who spent his childhood in the city, about the Hindi poet Mahadevi Varma who taught in the University there.

The pure whistle in the beginning of the first interlude followed by the synth instruments take us through the main roads, gullies, book shops, and to the Triveni again.

The percussion in the first segment of the second interlude reminds one of a boat journey on the river while the shifting of the scale from the major to minor and the S.E.Asian music towards the end symbolise change, at the same time indicating that certain things remain the same irrespective of the change and life flows..

..like the mythical river Saraswati!

Azure

The sky is a splattered sunset orange. The sun, a blazing hoop of fire, balances itself on the taut line of the horizon and then sinks effortlessly into the sea. The swaying palm leaves make silhouettes and the last of the sailboats are heading, still aided by a strong breeze, homewards. The next time I look up, the orange of the sky has given way to many shades of pink and below it lies a tranquil sea, still heaving but in a tired, late –evening manner, without the vigour that had come roaring out of its heart in the morning and ended as churning white foam at the feet of grizzled old fishermen, waiting there with the dawn. 

This is a passage from the book ‘Second Thoughts’ written by Navtej Sarna. This gentleman is very passionate about literature and has a writing style which at best can be described as ‘poetic and spell-binding’. If I was asked to name some of my most favourite books, I am sure ‘Second Thoughts’ would be in that list.

This small description of the evening sky is enough to justify my choice, though I would never agree that the sea would ever tire.

 There are four objectives for reproducing that passage:

1. To expose members to such interesting and beautiful writing,

2. To dispute the fact that the sea can ‘tire’,

3.To create the right ambience for the song of the day,

4.To establish the connection between the passage and the song.

There is a lot of synergy between the description and today’s song- NaaLum NaaLum from 60 Vayadhu MaaniRam (2018).

 To me at least, the song gives a vision of a beautiful evening with the sun setting in the west and the reddish golden sea bidding adieu to the sun saying, ‘We will meet soon’. Sea being sea, it will see the sun the next day morning though it will be its brother on the other side(will I sound politically incorrect if I say ‘the Arabian sea is the brother of Bay of Bengal?’).

What attract me to this most recent composition of the Maestro’s are many things.

1.Tune- Though one need not worry about the raga or the scale, the fact that it is based on ShankarabharaNam cannot be brushed aside. What cannot be brushed aside is also the fact that the entire tune is soft, as soft as the petal on which the morning dew sits cosily. The way the Pallavi and CharaNams are structured-listen to the higher octave tone in the second half- are lessons for the present day Music Directors whose Pallavis start in Mumbai and the CharaNams go to Goa.

2.Sound Engineering- One of the many misconceptions about him is that he is weak in sound technology. The facts that he was the pioneer in using the superimposing technology, stereophonic technology and many more new technologies are not known to this world. Here too, the sound engineer inside him comes to the fore in the way the vocals are placed-the echo of the male voice in the beginning, the superimposition of the lead voice and the chorus voice being some examples.

3. Chorus- He is always known for his brilliant use of the chorus. But when it comes to the genuine western style harmony, he is outstanding. The ‘shaanana naana’ in the prelude and in the first interlude, the ‘Ooo Uvuvoo’ in the Pallavi, and the humming in the CharaNams show his proclivity for using chorus and his immaculate creativity.

4.Lead Voice- ‘Monali Thakur’ trained under Pt.Ajay Chakraborti and has also won the President’s award for the best female singer in 2015. At a time when we come across so many artificial voices , this voice is a rarity. It is pure and is melodious too. Her tamizh diction is close to perfection (she perfectly sings ‘naaLum naaLum’, but in between she has problems with ‘Na’ and with ‘varudam’). Would like to see her sing more in his music..

5.Orchestration- How he manages to bring out the same old magic, album after album, remains a mystery. The instruments start only after 29 seconds but listen to the guitar sound in the prelude and along with the vocals in the beginning of the Pallavi. The guitar combines so well with the synth and back the vocals almost throughout. The melody which follows the chorus in the first interlude is something which has to be enjoyed. The melody in the second interlude may sound repetitive but a close observation suggests that each time the melody is played- it plays 4 times-, there is a different kind of response from the synth instruments. The synth melody just towards the end of the second interlude is soft, sensitive and sparkling.

The tranquil sea- Will it ever tire?

Sixth Sense

 

Quite often we come across statements like ‘I have a gut feeling that this is surely going to happen’, or even questions like ‘Do you have the guts to do that?’

What exactly do we mean by this ‘gut’? It is the gastrointestinal tract involved in digestion.

 It would surprise some (or even many) that this gut is inextricably linked to our feelings and emotions. The brain and the gut keep sending constant signals to each other from time to time. In fact, it is said that 90% of serotonin- the neurotransmitter which transmits nerve impulses between nerve cells, which contributes to well being and happiness, which is responsible for mood balance and whose deficit leads to depression- is produced in the gut. That is why, whenever we are emotionally disturbed, we instantly feel the pain in the abdomen; our digestion gets affected and in severe cases, the acid reflux is felt which in turn creates a burning sensation in the heart. We also feel ‘butterflies in stomach’ when we are tensed.

Now, this gut is also responsible for our intuition and that instinctive feeling which occurs to us suddenly without any logical reasoning. Interestingly enough, the solar plexus, which as per the KuNdalini theory is the third chakra and which is responsible for our self-esteem, ego and our personality as a whole is located in the same region. It is said that telepathy happens in the solar plexus. This explains as to why we get sudden strange feelings, thoughts and emotions. Though the connection between the brain and the gut exists, this is limited only to the neurotransmitters. There is a school of thought who believes that most of the times, the gut is independent of the brain and research on this is still on.

So, the next time if you want to take a major decision, should you listen to the head or the gut?

I can’t answer this as I am not qualified enough. But based on these studies and based on my following a music composer for the last 48 years, I can say one thing with guts:

ILaiyaraaja’s gut feel is mainly responsible for the beauty in his music.

By ‘beauty’ I mean the suddenness with which certain things appear in his compositions. It could be a guitar piece in ‘SiRu ponmaNi asaiyum’ or the flute piece in ‘Vedam nee’. It could be the transition from Mohanam to Shanmukhapriya in ‘KaalangaL MazhaikkaalangaL’ or the quick change of ragas from Rasika Ranjani to Revagupti to Sunaadavinodini to Lalit to Hamsaanandi, all in a matter of just around 10 seconds in ‘Neela kuyile’. Or it could be the graha bedam on a very rare raga like Lavangi to give Mandaari in ‘KaNgaLukkuL unnai ezhudhu’.

If these are just some samples of his intuition, the Rare Gem of the day is yet another example of the same. The difference between a sample and an example of course lies in the fact that while the former is mentioned in passing (these have been elaborately discussed in the Group), the latter is discussed rather elaborately.

‘Alai alaiyaayi pala aasaigaLe’ from ‘NaaLai Unadhu NaaL’(1984) is a fast paced composition. If I am not wrong, it is sung by a young woman, with her friends dancing with her on the beach. The situation is not that challenging and yet he has come out with a beautiful tune in Pahaadi. But there is nothing great about this as he has done this in many obscure movies directed by obscure directors.

However, the reason for my considering him as one of the greatest composers in the history of world cinema music is shown in the last segment of the second interlude.

The composition follows the 4-beat chatushram cycle. Now, there is a scale change at 2.34 and this is not uncommon in a film composition. But what happens after 5 seconds is surely uncommon, that is if one takes film music in general. The pattern suddenly changes to the 3-beat cycle tisram with the tempo being the same. Let me clarify that the 4 to 3 change occurs in a typical carnatic concert when the percussionist does the ‘vistaaram’ with the tempo undergoing a change. However, in the case of ‘Alai alaiyaai’, the 3 is made to fit in 4. In carnatic music parlance, this is called ‘gati bedam’ and as far as my knowledge goes, no other composer has even tried this in film music(the other song which immediately comes to my mind- where Raaja sir has done this- is ‘Pallaviye CharaNam’).

Most importantly, he has not used any percussion instrument here and it is the ‘clap sound’ which sounds the 3(ta ki ta) even as the saxophone plays a joyful melody with the bass guitar-as usual- playing a counter melody.

If this is not intuitive and instinctive, what else is?

The composition as such is great with the South East Asian flavour in the prelude and in both the interludes. The guitar, flute, trumpets and a host of instruments add glory to the composition (not to forget the ubiquitous bass guitar) while the voice of Uma RamaNan is unique in its own way.

But with geniuses who are intuitive, you must always expect the unexpected. And this is what happens in the end after the Pallavi is rendered again. Uma RamaNan hums ‘la laa la laa’ and the gati bedam happens again , this time without the backing of the sax. What we have are the vocals with the guitar responding now and then!

Guts at its Best!!

Irrationally rational

 “Men should not cry”.

Isn’t this one of the many stereotypical statements(or should I call it ‘belief’?) used generously and ubiquitously since time immemorial? Though ‘times have changed’(again a cliched expression!), I don’t think the perception has undergone any major change. The spontaneous reaction to a man crying in public or for that matter even at home will be this – Look at him, crying like a woman- as if crying is the prerogative of a particular gender. In a way, this too is misogyny of a different form.

Why am I saying all this suddenly?

It is because I cried today just sometime ago.

What was the reason?

Let me explain. I was pretty down since morning, feeling listless and feeling as if my energy was sapped by an unknown force. Not knowing what to do, I randomly clicked on a video. It was a speech by the Maestro himself on RamaNa Maharishi. Even as I was watching and listening, I felt tears swelling up in my eyes and like the city of Chennai in the month of October, it started overflowing( Chennai – My eyes; Tears- Floods; My face- Roads) without any reason or even season. Should there always be a reason for everything?

And without any reason, my thoughts instantly went to a particular song whose first line says – I get tears in my eyes without any reason.

Like many compositions of his-filmy or non-filmy- ‘KaaraNam indri kaNNeer varum’ (Raajavin RamaNamaalai) is full of emotions. Based on the Hindustani raag Madhukauns, the composition makes one travel on the roads of ThiruvaNNamalai with the destination being very clear.

The violin piece in the higher-octave makes me enter the Ashram and head straight to the hall.

The tabla in the Pallavi is very special as it plays the chatushram beats languorously. So is the subtle sound of the jaalra which plays the first beat of every cycle.

The absence of percussion in the first interlude which has the guitar and the flute with the former plucking the strings of our heart and the latter piercing our soul, is special as well.

Well, coming to think of it, there is no percussion in the second interlude as well, even as the long flute and the guitar keep asking questions.

‘Open my eyes’ – This is what the song says.

And I cry…

Is there a reason? I don’t know and I don’t want to know..