Raaja and KaNNa

‘He kept the pearl in the oyster and gave you’ – He.

‘She is a golden oyster’- She.

And who are they singing to? To their child as a lullaby.

These lines which appear in the third CharaNam, typify both the composer and the lyricist.

The flute in the beginning followed by the santoor and then the strings, set the mood for a different lullaby.

The santoor and the flute appear again but it is the sudden group of strings -which give shades of western classical- and the mandolin, which steal the show in the first interlude.

The second interlude takes us to a ‘neithal’ land with the humming, the single-stringed instrument and the santoor, singing with glee.

It is the santoor again in the third interlude, followed by the flute and see waves after waves.

Can the love in the family be depicted better than this just with music?

‘You are like the lamp in the temple, oh my dear with the plaited hair, the one who drinks milk lying on the cradle’- says mother.

‘Even if the catamaran disappears in the sea, a son’s face will always be etched in the father’s heart/ You, my dear wife, is the breeze while I am the boat’ – says the father.

Can a relationship between a husband and a wife and between a child and parents be described simpler than this?

That is why, they are the rare pearls found in deep ocean.

If you have not yet deciphered as to who those ‘two’ are, please read the fourth line. Or better still, listen to the third line in the Pallavi!

Dvaita or Advaita?

 My tryst with music started at a very young age without my being aware. Glued to that gadget called the radio- which would take around 2 minutes to ‘boot’, being a valve set-, I would be tuning in the stations standing on a stool as the radio was kept on a stand. I still have memories of this(I was around 4 years then). Though I did not know the ABC of music(it is a different issue that the word has none of these alphabets), something in it attracted me. That ‘it’ was film music.

My parents would regularly listen to the Carnatic music concerts every morning, but it failed to make a positive impact on me. My mind would whisper ‘how boring!’, though I did not have the guts to say this to them. I would wonder what was there in that music which made them nod their heads and express their appreciation with ‘aahaas’. I would wait for my turn in the evening when I would keep turning the knob on the gadget to listen to songs that attracted me.

My father being in government service was transferred to a city away from my home state and this brought in a change. Tamizh film music was restricted to just around 15 minutes every evening on a station called ‘Vividh Bharati’. Over a period of time, I discovered a station on ‘short wave’ with the broadcast being done from our neighbouring country called ‘Sri Lanka’. Here too, it happened only in the evenings, but for a slightly extended time.

Being exposed to a new culture and a new set of peers, made me listen more to Hindi songs and also to Telugu songs. There was also a programme in the night on Wednesdays, a programme dedicated to Hindi film songs, about which I had written here long ago.

Cut to the year 1976. Being a voracious reader of Tamizh magazines, I got to know about a new film and a new film director. Both were making waves and I was wondering what it was all about. Mind you, it was an era where people had to wait very patiently to listen to their favourite songs and I did not have the opportunity to listen to the songs from that movie, despite my curiosity being aroused after reading the reports/interviews.

My wait finally ended when one day the station played a song from that movie. My first reaction – What is so great about this? There is always a rebel sleeping inside me like and animal and would wake up whenever it feels the need to ‘hunt’. After a couple of other movies and songs of that ‘new’ music director, I started feeling ‘Oh, this seems and sounds different’.

After about 8 months or so, I was in Madras to spend my vacation. It was a Sunday evening and I was at one of my relatives’ houses. A song started playing and though I had listened to it before, I felt something, a feeling not easy- in fact next to impossible to describe. Even now, when I reminisce about that evening, I get goosebumps and I even become meditative.

From then on, there was no stopping. Music which I had been listening to from my childhood, seemed so different and beautiful. Not just beautiful, but also deep. Not just beautiful and deep, but also mesmerising. I felt as if I had discovered something new. I started listening to Carnatic music and realised why it was so beautiful. After a couple of years, I started listening to Hindustani music and realised why it was divine. After some more years, I started listening to Western Classical and realised why it was divine. But all along, I was listening to the songs of that ‘new music director’ even as he was churning out song after song, with each one sounding different and beautiful. My thirst continued and it continues till date with me discovering new in music every day; with me discovering new in that ‘new music director’s music’ every day.

The song I am going to talk about on this Music Day, is not the one which was a turning point in my life, but the one which talks about the beauty of music.

The initial humming of Sujata, takes me to a garden full of green trees with the birds fluttering their wings with glee. When the bass guitar enters along with the percussion and the violins following, I feel as if I have become a bird.

The Pallavi, which is the prelude in the vocalised form, makes me believe that ‘yes, I am indeed a bird’.

The violin in the beginning of the first interlude confirms this. But when the group of violins enter, I start questioning myself- ‘Am I not a human?’. When the flute interjects the violins, which by now have gathered momentum, the question continues.

The question deepens in the CharaNam.

Even as the piped instruments romance with the bass guitar in the beginning of the second interlude, I straddle between the avian and human life. The duality continues until the flute sounds something towards the end.

‘Is this real or is it a dream?’- I ask myself after that flute piece.

My question continues..

And my quest continues..