Lateral

Sometime back, when we visited a wildlife sanctuary situated very close to the sea, I found something amazing. I am not talking about a sighting a tiger or a lion-which in fact would have invoked a feeling of awe and even fear. But here it was very different. For starters, it was not an animal. It was a tiny bird which would fit into our fist with a very different shade of blue and a kind yellowish patch. If only I was a Salim Ali or a M.Krishnan, I would have immediately recognized the species and would have made a note in the pocket book. But it does not matter, for after all a bird is a bird is a bird as the Bard of Avon would have said.

What does matter however is the flight of the bird. Let me try and explain. I first spotted it from a distance of about 10 metres even as I was driving on that treacherous ‘road’. My first reaction was ‘Oh, how beautiful!’. I stopped the car and tried to click. As if driven by instinct, it moved and took off. It rose, went up vertically straight, swiveled, took an oblique turn and went to the other side-that is the left side of the car. All done in a split second.

I was astounded and stunned. Being a mathematics student, the flight looked like a parabola to me and let me admit that I had never seen anything like this before. The entire scene is etched in my memory and it gives a strange internal quivering. It is indeed very difficult to express..

What that bird did(or still doing) must be very natural for it. In fact, it may not even be aware that its flight is something extraordinary. Even when it looks at the other species of the birds with ‘normal’ flights (read as flights familiar to us), I doubt if it would flap its wings with pride thinking ‘see how different and great I am’.

Whatever it is, I discovered the real meaning of ‘poetry in motion’ that day.

Looking back now and pondering as to why it gave-and still continues to give- that feeling, I arrived at certain answers.

1. What I saw was something I had never seen before.

2. We always associate things we know with certain specific actions. And this applies to the people we know as well.

3. When our beliefs are questioned, we are shaken up.

4. There are so many things unknown to us in this world and yet we feel we know everything.

5. Nature is Divine. Or in other words, the Divine Force itself manifests as Nature.                                                                                                                   

Coming to think of it, the entire ‘episode’ has some hidden lessons. Without getting into those lessons and probably reserving those for one of my future posts, let me get into the rare gem of today, which I feel is relevant to that poetry in motion I witnessed.

It has got nothing to do with the birds, nor is anybody flying in the song. However, this song also strikes us with suddenness reminiscent of the flight of that bird. It is of course beautiful and spontaneous and also shakes one up questioning the beliefs and mindsets.

The first impression one gets on hearing the prelude of ‘Thaen KuLaththile’ from ‘Ezhuthadha SattangaL’(1984) is ‘It is a club-dance song and is a mix of pop and jazz’. This is because it has a host of western instruments which move ebulliently. Let us see how.

The drums play a beat and echoes. The bass guitar plays 1 2 3/ 1 2 3/ 1 2 3/ 1 2 3 4(ta ki  ta/ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ta ka dhi mi) for two cycles. The saxophone joins and plays a melody with the bass guitar getting subtler and the western percussion playing the same pattern as that of bass guitar’s the only difference being the stress on the first syllable in the first three ‘ 1 2 3’ s and on the first and the third syllables in the last ‘1 2 3 4’. The percussion changes the pattern slightly as the saxophone gives way to the other piped instruments. A solo sax follows again with the percussion playing all the syllables. Just towards the end, the electric guitar joins and plays a melody sounding almost like an Indian classical raga.

Ok, till now-except perhaps the last section- it is purely jazzy and therefore we should not be wrong.

And the Pallavi starts…

Is it jazzy too?

Janaki sings in Karnataka khamas in a qawwali style with the tabla backing her. Apart from the electric guitar which appears very briefly after a phrase, there is no trace of any other western instrument.

Did we expect this? And how beautifully the lines give the shades of the raga, and how wonderfully the short Pallavi is composed with the pause after ‘thaen’, with the phrases ‘kadhalile neenja vaicha kaaman avan vetti vaicha’ rolling melodiously and rhythmically. It is also rounded off with a lustrous ‘akaaram’ for one and half cycles.

The jazz returns in the first interlude with the saxophone etching a beautiful melody in the beginning. Suddenly, there is a twist with the electric guitar intercepting and going on its own trip with a touch of nonchalance and even seeming to be insouciant. But nowhere does it sound jarring. The trumpet follows in the same scale and plays with it. Finally the electric guitar says ‘enough is enough’ and goes back to Carnataka khamas, like it did towards the end of the prelude.

The CharaNam continues in the same style of the Pallavi and is marked by another bout of ‘akaaram’ which goes for 4 cycles. Note that the ‘akaaram’ s in the two CharaNams are not the same which proves the creativity of the composer yet again.

The second interlude is more energetic with the electric guitar, bass guitar, saxophone and a bevy of brass instruments playing and dancing spiritedly. The electric guitar plays again in a different scale as if to bring contrast yet again.

Linear, Parabolic and Circular..

Differently different.

That is what is Life anyway!