Boundless

 Can music be produced? Can music be cut and pasted?

If the answer is yes, I can safely say that what comes out as the output is surely not music.

Though it has been there for quite a while, the strident voice of netizens- who hardly know anything about music- has turned cacophonic of late. These people claim that music is beautiful only when different ‘elements’ which are ‘picked’ and ‘chosen’, are joined together in the recording studio.

Is music a product then?

Probably yes, for people who do not know or understand the real value of music. But people who really know the value, who know to appreciate music, know that music can never be produced.

Music has to be spontaneous. Music has to flow effortlessly. Music has to happen.

Only then will it touch the physical body, pierce the heart and stir the soul.

Listen to this piece from ‘Viduthalai-1’.

It starts with a sustained melody from two different instruments- one, a violin and the other a cello. This lasts for about 15 seconds.

The flute follows with the guitar backing it. Does it feel like a cool breeze blowing in a forest with the branches of the trees swaying and with the birds chirping?

Two things are to be noted here.

Why that sustained melody? To show that love blossoms slowly, steadily and beautifully.

Why that flute melody?

People who have either watched the movie or have listened to the other background pieces from the movie, know that the piece is just a variation of the theme music albeit in a different scale and in a different gait. They also know that the tune is also a variation of the most popular song from the same movie.

Now, would the composer have broken his head for getting this? Would he have asked his flute player, the violinist, the celloist and the guitarist to play different melodies and then cut and pasted? Would he have even spent time in deciding the melody?

It just happened..

..and that is why music from great composers is immortal!

Eternal

 

It was a bright sunny morning in April. We had just landed in that city and for a person who had hardly moved out of his hometown (home city!), things seemed exciting though a little alien. After a long train journey, I was a little tired too. Suddenly, a song started playing from a distance. It was from a loudspeaker. It said ‘Chura liya hai tumne jo dil ko’. Only the previous year did I start learning Hindi as part of my second language and therefore, I was able to understand the rough meaning. But what struck me the most was the different sound and also the voices.

Having grown up in Madras, my exposure to film music started and stopped with Tamizh films, and the only names I was familiar with were ‘M S Viswanathan’, ‘KaNNadasan’, ‘T M Soundararajan’ and ‘P Suseela’. During the Vinayakar Chaturthi festival, the temple close to our quarters in Madras would play MGR songs and Hindi songs. One of the songs that was played often was ‘Dum maaro dum’ (look at the irony!). Little did I know the names of the singers then, though the song would give a very different feel.

Going back to that sunny morning, I was attracted to that song instantly. After joining the school there (the only school in that city that offered Tamizh as a language), I was slowly getting into Hindi songs. Peer influence! There used to be a programme called ‘Binaca Geetmala’ on Sri Lankan Broadcasting Service every Wednesday between 8 pm and 9 pm and I started listening to that just to keep up with the trend. Over a period of time, it became a habit which would not leave me at least for the next 3-4 years.

My first attraction was the male voice in a majority of the songs. Bowled over by the magneticity in that voice, the person became my childhood hero. Then it was the female voice which was part of many duets with that male singer. In fact, her name was very popular even in Madras those days. I became a huge fan of both the singers – Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. None of the other voices appealed to me as much as the voices of those two, until something happened.

There was a devastating cyclone that year in that state causing very severe damage in the coastal region and the Government sent a directive to the schools to collect Relief fund from residents in the city. The school in turn divided us into different teams and we had to go door-to-door to collect the fund. We took to the task with glee (no classes, you see!). Even as we were walking, a song floated in the air and it said ‘Mil gaya hum ko saathi mil gaya’. The male voice of course my most favourite voice. The female voice was different. It is not that I had not heard that voice before. In fact, I had heard the voice many times before in that Geetmala. Yet, it moved me for the first time.

That was the beginning.  

Though comparisons are odious, I must say that the voice of Asha Bhosle is unique in terms of the sweetness, versatility, ductility, and expressiveness. Most importantly, though it sounds effortless to a lay listener, the hard work is apparent to a trained ear. Disco, romance, sad, classical or for that matter any genre was handled by her with equal felicity.

The mutual admiration between ILaiyaraaja and Asha Bhosle is well-known to many. She has praised his genius on many occasions, one of them being an interview in Marathi in which she said how he changed a part of the CharaNam in a jiffy, in her first ever recorded tamizh song for him. Raaja sir in one of the interviews last year mentioned as to how pleasurable it was to work with her.

The song I have taken up is from the first Hindi film of ILaiyaraaja and probably the first ever song both worked together.

When the Hindi remake of Sadma was announced, my happiness knew no bounds when I came to know that Balu Mahendra managed to convince his dear friend to score in Hindi as well. Not many know that until then ILaiyaraaja had kept away from Hindi films in spite of many offers. The audio launch happened in a 5-star hotel in Madras with Amitabh as the chief guest. A Tamizh magazine while writing about this event mentioned that the songs were a ‘carbon copy’ of the ones in Tamizh! Later, when I listened to the songs in the cinema hall, I wondered if the person who wrote that piece was auditorily challenged. Except for two songs, the tunes of the other three were totally different and even those two songs had some subtle variations.

This song – Yeh Hawaa- in particular sounds so different from Vaanengum Thanga ViNmeengaL and it will be hard for people to believe that the situation in the movie was the same.

It starts with the strumming of the guitar. Well, this itself is an understatement. The guitar caresses, cajoles, canoodles, dandles and fondles for 20 seconds. This does not mean that it does nothing after that. The brass flute joins after 20 seconds and the romance continues for the next 20 seconds.

The humming of Asha ji starts after this and goes on for a while, with the bass guitar and the rhythm guitar backing the vocals. The chorus takes over and continues the humming. Suddenly, there is a change. The melody which until now was soft, changes colour. With the trumpets in full flow, it gets peppy and ebullient. The subtle variation in Asha ji’s humming just before the chorus takes over cannot be missed by a trained ear.

After a very subtle guitar piece, the Pallavi starts in Asha ji’s voice. The way the Pallavi unfolds gathering momentum in a matter of seconds, shows the genius of both as also the trust the composer has on the singer.

After a pause, the bass guitar plays in its inimitable style and the trumpets take over with the percussion backing them. A very different sound follows. But what is amazing is the akaaram in the voice of Suresh Wadkar, which appears after that very special sound. To start with, the akaaram has the backing of the western instruments. The latter withdraw after a while. With the drone of the tanpoora in the background, the akaaram in pure Chandrakauns stirs one’s soul. Definition of Meditation!

Contrasts again in the CharaNam with the tune turning peppy with both the singers vying with each other.

Filled with joie de vivre, the second interlude is a treat to a connoisseur. For starters, there is that tribal percussion sounding in ‘3’s. The composition is set in ‘4’ and yet the percussion goes in ‘3’s (Gati Bhedam). Yet another percussion sounds only the fourth beat -if one takes the count as 1 2 3 4 in medium tempo. Note that the tribal percussion sounds in the next tempo. The small flute plays a melody and the trumpets respond like how a group of elephants would sound. The elephant army continues its march until the humming of Suresh Wadkar and Asha ji with the latter in particular showing her prowess in oscillation.

Some people do not leave this world. After all, does the wind ever stop blowing?

Illuminating Spectacle

One of my friends shared a very well written article in Tamizh about the song ‘Neelakkuyile’ from the film Magudi(1984). The article which appeared in the Tamizh edition of a leading newspaper described the song wonderfully and also rightly said that the amazement and the ecstatic feeling one gets while listening to a song are more than enough. When we listen to the chirping of an unknown bird or when we look at the cascading waterfall, do we break our heads or do we simply enjoy that moment? While I too agree with this, I must also add that there is nothing wrong in knowing the technical details as well, as knowing these will accentuate our feelings of amazement and ecstasy and elevate us to a new level intellectually and emotionally.

 The ‘sa ri ga pa dha Sa’ scale is one of the most popular in Carnatic Music. The different combinations of the variants of these swaras give us ragas like Mohanam, Shivaranjani, BhoopaLam, Vaasanti and Revagupti. In the year 1981, ILaiyaraaja came up with a composition that had the same swaras but with a new combination - sa ri1 ga3 pa dha2 Sa. Let me clarify that this was new only in the Carnatic System as the Hindustani System has a raag pertaining to this scale called Vibhas (which again has two versions).As far as Carnatic Music or Tamizh Film music is concerned, this raga was never used until then. Some texts define the name of this raga as ‘VarNa RoopiNi’ while some others call it as Rasika Ranjani. But since the Maestro himself has clarified that it is Rasika Ranjani, let us stick to this name.

 Thus ‘Amude Tamizhe’ from Kovil PuRa happens to be the first composition in Tamizh Film Music based on this ragam. While ‘Amude Tamizhe’ more or less stuck to Rasika Ranjani (excepting for the use of ‘ni’ in a couple of lines in the charaNams), ‘Neelakuile..’follows the Rasika Ranjani scale completely.

 Did I say completely?

Yes, but there is a hidden magic in the second interlude and we shall see that soon. The composition starts with a great delicacy of feeling as the swaras are rendered with mellow tonal depth by Janaki and SPB. With energetic briskness, the Violins enter the fray as the upper Sa is touched by the male voice. The Sitar soothes the heart while the radiant Veena highlights the beauty of the raga with finesse.

 The composition is set in Chatushra ekam tisra gati(cycle of 4 with a speed of 3) taaLam and has the ‘anaagata eduppu’ with the Pallavi starting after 2 aksharaas. The Pallavi is crisp and is dominated by the mid-octave notes (it starts with the ‘sa’ just like ‘Amude Tamizhe’).The last line is a beauty with the phrase ‘paamaalai’consisting of the combination of swaras in the arohaNam( dhaSa padha gapa).Note that the first swara in the preceding group becomes the second in the one that follows. The higher octave violins that back the lines rise like the huge waves with the sitar that says ‘dhapa dhapa dhapa dhapa dhapa dhapa’ moving like a small wave. Swaras blossom again with a fragrance in the first interlude as the Sitar and the Violin smile at each other with ‘ga pa dha pa’. The lilting flute joins and pairs with Sitar. There is more to follow after the strings flow like a stream. Basic and advanced lessons in Violin plucking, fingering and bowing are on display.

Harmony at its best!

 The CharaNams have succinct but powerful phrases. The first half is dominated by the higher octave swaras like the ‘Sa, Ri and Ga with the last line have all the ascending notes. It is rounded off with a short and sweet akaaram.

 The second interlude (remember the hidden magic I mentioned in the beginning?) shines with manifold beauties. First the ‘dha2’is substituted by ‘dha1’ and the raga becomes Revagupti. The strings play this and during the course of the journey adds two more swaras- ma2 and ni3- making it Pantuvarali. The Master then drops the ‘ri’ and ‘pa’ and substitutes ‘dha1’with ‘dha2’ making it Sunaadavinodini, a pentatonic raga.The flute and the Veena have a rendevouz with ‘dha ma ni’ with the former fondling ‘dha ma dha ni Sa’ and the latter caressing ‘ma ga ma ga Sa’. The magic happens yet again in the second time the Veena plays. It plays chromatic notes-ma2 ma1 ma2 ma1 ga3. Though it has only 2 swaras, the chromaticism and the contours suggest Lalit, another Hindustani raga. The strings then play Hamsanandi ( Sunaadavinodhini plus ri1) with the Lalit pattern peeping in again at the end.

So, what we have are 6 different ragas- Rasika Ranjani, Revagupti, Pantuvarali, Sunaadavonodhini, Hamsanandi and Lalit in a matter of seconds.

No doubt, Indian Film Music has seen great legends whose tunes are immortal and are still hummed. It has also seen composers some of whose compositions are packed with technical details. But ILaiyaraaja is surely the only film music composer whose music is full of technicalities and yet sounds great without being a mere intellectual exercise.. That is why, it attracts both the common man and the pundit.

 Blessed to be born in this era!!

Theology

 Certain things in our life are unforgettable.

And this applies more to things which happened during our childhood. What happens during this period remains firmly etched in our memory and even the loss of cells in the brain will not affect this memory. One of the reasons could be the freshness of the brain during our childhood, but most importantly it could also be because of our tendency and proclivity to enjoy nostalgia.

I am saying all this now not without a reason. When I was a child, I studied in a school which was part of an Institution known for respecting our culture. Every day during lunch hour, we were asked to repeat a small sloka. At the end of it, the teacher would sound the bell and only then were we allowed to open the lunch box.

Now, let me clarify a couple of things. By ‘respecting culture’, I do not mean any religion or ideology. The person who established the Institution, was known for her syncretic views. Though the sloka was in Sanskrit on a particular Hindu deity, it was recited by one and all-including the students from other faiths- without any reservations. During the assembly, representatives of 3 major religions would say the prayer on his/her God and all of us repeated it. I remember these prayers too just like how I remember the ‘Lunch Prayer’.

That Lunch Prayer was on a deity called AnnapoorNa, who is supposed to be the Goddess of Nourishment. It was composed by Adi Shankara as part of the ‘AnnapoorNa ashtakam’ ‘Anna’ in Sanskrit means ‘Food’ and ‘PoorNa’ is complete (or ‘whole’). The 2-line sloka, prays to Her for giving not just food but also knowledge, wisdom and will power. I would repeat that sloka during our dinner time at home and also imitate the sound of the bell before laying my hands on what was prepared by my mother.

After many years, I still remember the sloka with the intonation and the sound of the bell and whenever I recite it to myself (not necessarily during breakfast/lunch/dinner) it gives me nourishment spiritually, mentally and emotionally. In fact, the purpose of any recitation or even prayer to any icon is this- to make us feel better.

All these are symbolic and carry a lot of value. Unfortunately, we have (by ‘we’, I mean the people propagating certain ideologies and are bent on ‘constructing temples’) forgotten the purpose and objective behind each icon and have assumed that the purpose of a religion is to assert our superiority over people following other religions, hardly realising that the Divine is one and each has his/her own way of approaching it. And that is the reason for mindless ‘discourses’ done with an eye on the vote bank.

Going back to AnnapoorNa , what the icon-which has a golden ladle on the right hand and a pot full of porridge on the left hand- indicate are ‘Fullness’, ‘Nourishment’, ‘Wisdom’ ‘Truth’ and ‘Supreme Welfare’. It also symbolises ‘Shakti’ or the ‘Universal Energy’.

No other film song has depicted AnnapooraNi as majestic and melodic as ‘InnaruL Tharum AnnapooraNi’ (Athma- 1993) has done and reasons are not far to seek.

First and foremost, it is based on the Raag Durga. As many of you know, Durga is a form of Shakti and I am sure the composer tuned it in this raag not without a purpose (of course, he does not break his head on the tune or on the raga to be used and this too must have occurred to him spontaneously like ‘Lalita’ in Rudra VeeNa/Unnaal Mudiyum Thambi.

Secondly, it is rendered by a carnatic music legend. Though Shri.T.N.Seshagopalan did sing before in a movie in which he played the major role (an experience he would ‘like to forget’- as told by him), this one is unique. It is not uncommon for classical musicians to sing in movies but the fact that a musician of the stature of Shri.T.N.S., agreed to sing a song  in a commercial movie in which he played no role one, shows the respect and admiration he had for Raaja sir.

The very first piece in sitar gives the sketch of the raag. The violin expands it and we see the charming silhouettes that seem delightfully fresh.

The energy continues to flow in the Pallavi with the dholak and the tabla sounding in rupakam (it can be ‘tisram’ too but I am more comfortable with a 6 - beat cycle in this composition). The subtle sound of the jaalra makes it livelier.

The sitar plays lustrously with vigour and vitality while the flute plays with an evocative grandeur in the first interlude.

The major attraction of the second interlude is the shehnai. It is soft, buoyant, intense and sparkling. When it touches the higher octave ‘ma’, it seems as if it has discovered the Divine.

And the ‘akaaram’ of Shri.T.N.S. in the second charaNam seems to confirm this..

After all, where is the Divine- In Mandir? In Masjid? In Church?

Let the Divine give us the wisdom of seeking the Truth, so that we find the answer ourselves.

Jnaana Vairagya Siddhyartam Bhiksham Dehi...

Antique

 How do things become extinct?

Is it Nature’s Law or is it a man-made law?

Now, see this- Two species of plants first discovered more than 125 years ago in Andamans and Meghalaya are now extinct. Both incidentally belong to the ginger family and are classified under Boesenbergia. The reasons for their extinction , given by two botanists from Kerala, include Climate Change and over-exploitation from man.

Can one hope to find these again?

Before I get into that, let me think of things which have become extinct- Fountain Pen, Cassette Recorder, CD Player, Transistor radio.. The list also includes DVD players and i-pods!

Why did these become extinct?

Technological advancement? Or is there any other reason?

Well, I am not a person who closes his eyes to modern development chanting ‘Old is gold’. At the same time, to me such extinctions suggest things which might appear ludicrous on the face of it, but at same time could also trigger some thoughts.

When we give up things which were in existence once, don’t we also give up the value we attached to those things once upon a time? Can we ever give up or even attempt to give up the joy, the satisfaction and the ecstasy these gave us? Most importantly, can those moments ever be erased?

Yes, we move on but not without reliving those moments and also looking back with reverence, with fondness and with love.

‘Change is the only constant in the world’, said somebody. I look at this rather from a different angle. To me, that ‘constant’ is as valuable as ‘change’ and that ‘constant’ signifies the moments in the past, moments which left an indelible mark in our life.

Whenever a particular date appears on the calendar (which itself has become extinct), one cannot help reminiscing about the previous 364 days. To some, it would give sadness. To some, it would give happiness. To some, it would give a mix of both. But unmindful of all this, the date smiles at us like Mona Lisa and bids adieu.

No points for guessing the date which is Dec 31^st.

What is interesting and intriguing is the fact that invariably everyone looks at the next year with hopes irrespective of whatever had happened before. If not for any other reason, this alone makes the date very valuable.

Let us make this valuable day more valuable by looking at a song which too is extinct, or rather very rare.

What makes ‘Happy New Year’ from ‘Oh Maane Maane’ (1984) special is not just the first line. The composition has shades of Baila, a form of music popular in Goa and in Sri Lanka. The ubiquitous bass guitar throbs almost throughout the song. The lead guitar too leads the orchestra in many places.

Are these the only specialities?

Of course, there are more. Let us look at the song from the beginning.

The song starts with those three words which one will hear ad nauseam tomorrow. The claps are joined by the bass guitar and the lead guitar and even as the claps gather momentum, the piped instruments enter and dance with a feeling of joie de vivre.

The Pallavi in the voice of Malaysia Vasudevan brings more joy as the singer modulates his voice and is joined by another singer (Sundararajan, Raaja sir’s assistant for many years).

The guitar and its cousin bass guitar sail smoothly in the first half of the first interlude but it is the brass flute which grabs our attention not least because of its varied usage. Gliding smoothly to start with, it moves picks up pace and even gives a feeling of poignancy. The guitar cousins back it throughout albeit differently.

The lines in the CharaNams move cheerfully in the major scale and this has to do also with the rhythmic pattern in tisram. The female voice(Janaki) is a bonus while the bass guitar which is present throughout adds pulsating weight.

The different sounds of guitar make the beginning of the second interlude graceful and elegant. The piped instruments enter in the second a la first interlude but the similarity ends there. These have more vigour and zeal in this interlude with the dash of alien notes adding to their winsome variations.

Joy, happiness, hopes and yes…nostalgia. These will exist and will continue to exist without ever becoming extinct.

Happy New Year!