Unique

 ‘How is that the one seen in the picture on the wall, resembles the one who is present here?’

This used to be a repeat question on my mind whenever I stepped into that saloon. That ‘whenever’ was ‘often’ as my hair grew faster than the grey cells inside the shell it covered, thereby entailing my jaunts to that saloon. If the last-mentioned word conjures up an image of a swanky place with a/c and plush chairs in your mind, I request you to erase (or should I say ‘delete’?) that image from your mind before I say ‘1 2 3’. The entire area would have been around 100 sq.feet and there was just one fan with a huge sphere at the centre nodding its head even as it moved probably teasing me saying ‘You are nicely caught’( ‘nalla mattikkitte’ in English). The reason for this ‘gesture’ will be known in a while.

The picture on the wall depicted Lord Muruga with a spear and the ‘hair-dresser’ was a carbon copy of that image, at least as far as my eyes could comprehend, though I couldn’t comprehend the reason for this co-incidence. After some months, I asked my father – Do you see the resemblance? My father in his trademark style, laughed out loud(no, the acronym for this was coined much much later, the only ‘Lol’ I knew then was the sound made by the ‘Bhairavars’) and said he had not noticed it and would do so the next time we visited. That he concurred with me the next time, and appreciated me for my observation and imagination, need not be mentioned as I believe in being modest and do not believe in blowing my own trumpet ( it is a different issue that I do not own a trumpet, leave alone play!).

With the assurance that this ‘resemblance’ story will continue in one of my future posts, let me move on to the main story. My frequent visits to the saloon were necessitated by two factors basically. One, the school where I studied was very strict when it came to enforcing discipline and one of their strongest beliefs was that the children should never sport long hair. The teacher would call the students randomly, ask him to turn sideways and then show the back to see if that hair growth needed a harvest. I remember some students being sent back home with a message to go to the saloon immediately, have the harvesting done and go back to the class. It is a different issue that some students found this a nice way to bunk the class!

Two, the growth of my hair. The rate of growth was inversely proportional to the rate of growth of the cells in my brain, a fact which should be obvious for people who see me now (no, as I said I believe in being modest and humble!).

What is of primary importance is that I would shiver in my shoes (though I used to wear only Hawaii chappals) whenever the day of my visit to that place arrived. And this was not without any reason. The ‘cutting process’ those days involved a hand-held machine which would just rummage through the forest on the head and bring down the ‘trees’ in a jiffy, an act that would make the present- day real tree-choppers proud. Before this, a pair of scissors would be used to first trim the region. So far, so good. But what happens next?

The hair-dresser would first apply water on the nape of the neck and then take a knife. He would trim the hair there with the knife so that it gives a great appearance. Whether it gave a great appearance or not, the moment he took the knife, I would have the urge to use the rest room. Something would churn in my stomach. My palms would sweat. My entire body would start shivering. All these because I was scared of the knife(in fact, there were not many things I was not scared of, those days!). I would imagine the knife piercing through my neck and the red fluid inside the body oozing out with force. The placing of the knife too would give me some weird sensations, difficult to explain. Whether the sensations were because of the knife or because of my imagination, was (is) difficult to say. But the fact is like Yudhistira in Mahabharata, I would see and experience hell for a while.

I would try my best to avoid this ordeal by coaxing my father. He even had a word with the hair-dresser- who became his good friend – to use the knife mildly on me. But I wanted ‘no-knife’ absolutely, which never happened in those 4-5 years as far as my memory goes.

The song of the day does not talk about the knife, but the fact that it revolves around a ‘hair-dresser’ makes it a song for the occasion- my story as well as the ‘day’.  

What strikes one in ‘Senorita, I love You’ from Jhonny (1980) the moment the prelude starts is the guitar that sounds differently. The different sound is because of the phaser connected to the guitar and as far as I know ILaiyaraaja is the only film music composer in India to have used this prolifically. The special sound moves on backed by the rhythm guitar. The strings join in and play in the higher-octave as if possessed by a spirit. The small flute coos like a cuckoo, as the celebration continues. The strings then move in circles, as if to wind up the prelude. But can a circle end at all?

SPB takes over to make it linear, with the instruments sounding in between, making it alluring.

That this composer is capable of producing different sounds – sounds not heard of hitherto in film music- is known to the passionate followers of his music. This song is no exception. A very funny sound creeps in after the initial sound from the strings of the guitar. What makes this sound even more exciting is the backing from the guitar strings-which play constantly, the bass guitar, the drums and the strings which take turns forming an exquisite pattern. Did not somebody say that change is the only constant? That ‘change’ happens here.

The composition starts in B-minor and goes in this scale until the second half of the first interlude. Once the funny sounds end, the strings take over and now it goes in G-major. A minor shift making a major difference!

Moreover, the rhythm in 4/4, which sounded peppy until now, sounds gentle once the strings enter. In fact, for a while there is no percussion at all, though the time signature remains the same.

The two sets of strings play two different sets of notes simultaneously in two different styles. The flute which enters after a while, makes the entire experience subtly exhilarating.

The CharaNam continues in the major scale with the funny sounds appearing after the first two lines and lasting for a count of 8 (two 4/4 cycles). The lines shift to the minor scale towards the end.

If it was the funny sound in the first interlude, there is a very different sound from a different instrument (which sounds a lot like the violin!) in the second interlude which steals the show and our hearts. I will not be exaggerating if I say that it sounds like a lullaby, with the bass guitar enhancing the feeling. Just before this special instrument, there is that brass flute which surrounds us like how chilly air surrounds us in a mountain.

The strings move in the higher-octave, sans the percussion, spreading joy.

Does it convey something, the ‘it’ meaning the special sounds and the arrangement?

To me, it says ‘Each and every experience in life is special, whether it is with the knife used for trimming the hair or the resemblance between the image of the God and the man who performs his duties’.

How about you?

 

Essence

‘Appa, I am not able to sleep’, said the young boy.

‘Dont’t worry. I will sleep only after you sleep’, replied the father.

‘How will you know if I have fallen asleep or not’, asked the nervous boy.

Pat came the reply-‘I know. That is why I am your father’.

 Do fathers know everything?

Not really. However, when it comes to conversing with his child and when it comes to comforting his child, a father does seem to know everything. At least, in my case, it is true.

Needless to say the conversation mentioned in the beginning happened between me and my father when I was just around 6 or 7. I was timid, shy and was scared of darkness then.

Somehow in India, the relationship between a father and a son is not as widely written or discussed as the one between a mother and a son or the one between a mother and a daughter or even the one between a father and a daughter.

My relationship with my father was somewhat special, intriguing and even weird. Being the only son, I was ‘protected’ by my mother who would not even let me go out and play without her monitoring and supervision. My father would be away at his workplace but whenever he was at home, he would ‘protect’ me too, and this continued even when I went to school. Probably, this explains the reason for my timidity when I was young.

However, once I started growing up and once I was in my formative years, I started developing independent thinking and was slowly shedding the conservative outlook , much to the chagrin of my mother. But my father encouraged my independent thinking.

There are many things a son can pick up from his father. I essentially picked up two things- Reading habit and appreciation of music. When I was a child, I would wonder what he was up to when he would literally burn the midnight oil to be engrossed in a book. After watching him do this for many years (‘many’ here would be about 8 years), one fine day I went to the cup- board where some old books were stocked, picked up the one with a glossy cover, dusted it and started reading it. On top of the front cover there were these wordings- ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’.  

Thus began my tryst with books and it still continues.

He would also tune in to ‘Madras A’ radio station at 8.20 am everyday even as he was getting ready for work. Carnatic music would fill the air. Honestly, this was not music to the ears of Yours Truly then, a fact which would surprise many now. I found it to be boring and even irritating. How my perspective changed after the entry of one gentleman in 1976 and how it transformed me, are all known to people who have been following my posts here. However, in hindsight, I feel if I was able to appreciate the music of that gentleman right from the beginning and was also quick to identify and appreciate the intricacies, it was because of the musical environment I grew up in and the influence it had on my subconscious.

It is not that I have not had difference of opinion with my father. In fact, there were many. However, he respected my views and opinions. During the later years, he even went to the extent of saying, ‘the amount of knowledge my son has, is hard to fathom’.

Cut now to Circa 2019.

The gentleman who pacified and put his little son to comfort long ago, was lying down on the hospital bed struggling to breathe and this time he was calling out his son’s name repeatedly. Is it a case of role reversal? However, the son could not do much as he was already briefed on his father’s medical condition. Unable to see his father suffer like this, the son also started praying for his suffering to end. This is another case of ‘reversal’, for obvious reasons, reasons which are better left undisclosed.

Finally, on the 21^st of June- which is celebrated as World Music Day, a connoisseur of music, a gentleman who believed in and who practised giving unconditional love, a father who guided his son to the right path, left this mortal world peacefully with his son by his side.

The only song which came to my mind instantly that time was a song which without a doubt, is part of my Top 25, and the reason is not far to seek.

In life, simple things are always beautiful and the most beautiful things are simple. If someone were to ask me an example, I would cite ‘Kaattuvazhi Kaalnadiyaa Pora Thambi’ from ‘Adhu Oru Kanaakkaalam’(2005), without batting an eyelid.

Now, see this.

The third and fourth lines of the Pallavi are a replica of the first two lines. The CharaNams are almost mirror images of the Pallavi. Both the interludes are the same. Coming as it does from a composer who is known for his dislike for ‘repetitions’ and who is known for his proclivity for ‘variety’, this is a huge surprise.

And yet, even repeated hearing of this song is unlikely to tire anybody. On the other hand, it can only soothe the pain, soothe the senses and soothe the soul. This is made possible not just by the tune but also by the lyrics and most importantly by the singing style and quality. What is more special is the fact that all these three are done by the same gentleman.

Based on the major scale (ShankarabharaNam), the composition has the flavour of an Irish folk song. The two sets of strings(one in lower octave and the other in middle- octave) playing simultaneously, depicts life itself, in my opinion.

The parallel drawn between river and life conveys layers and layers of meanings albeit in very simple terms.

Life is neither a dream nor a reality. It is Truth itself, says the last term.

For a person who was scared of darkness when he was a child, for a person whose father was an inspiration, for a person who turned more philosophical after the recent episode, can anything be truer than this?

After all, doesn't Truth drive away darkness?

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Bittersweet

It is normal to be happy.

It is normal to feel sad.

Of course to some it is abnormal to be happy and to some it is abnormal to be sad. In fact, happiness or sadness is a state of mind and it is more internal than external. But let me not get into this now.

What I would like to talk now is about a state which I am sure all of us have experienced at least once in a while- a state which is an equal mix of happiness and sadness. Modern research on the brain suggests that happiness and sadness involve different areas in brain. For example, when somebody is happy, the activity in the cerebral cortex regions-more precisely the region very close to the ears and just behind the forehead- decreases. Mind you, these regions are used when we are involved in complex planning (does it mean that planning is sad?only brain experts can answer this!).Most importantly, the left prefrontal cortex is more active when we feel happy. It is the reverse when we feel sad.

So, what happens when we have both the emotions at the same time?

Well, I am not here to analyse this. But all I know (out of my own experience) is that it is possible to feel both the emotions simultaneously and that this is an ineluctable fact. And since I cannot separate music from my life, if I say ‘experience’, it means ‘experience with music’.

I can list out many songs and also ragas(performed by some select musicians) to substantiate my claim, but for the time being let me stick to one composition.

I have listened to ‘Kodaikkala Kaatre’(Panneer PushpangaL- 1981) infinite times and irrespective of my mental state, it has given me that ‘happy-sad’ feeling. Surprisingly enough, the tune is in major scale(here it is based on ShankarabharaNam scale, though there are many accidental notes) and generally any composition in this scale evokes happiness. But coming from a composer who is known for defying logic, this should not be a surprise.

Let me just think as to why I feel happy while listening to this song.

It could be the sound of the bass guitar which strikes exactly at every fourth beat with resonance in the prelude. To me, it sounds as if it is in a kind of meditative bliss.

Then it could be the first part of the Pallavi in the very different voice of Malaysia Vasudevan- voice which sounds as if he is revealing a secret.

Or it could be the chorus which sings in perfect harmony in the second half of the Pallavi.

It could also be the guitar-synth-chorus in the first segment of the first interlude which bristles with melody with nonchalant grace.

Ah, yes it could be the first part of the solo violin piece- backed by a single-stringed instrument-which has a rhythmic sway holding a sway on the listener.

Probably the reason could be the structure of the first two lines of the CharaNam where the notes pair and repeat(dhapa mostly and gapa and dhasa once) and also the  structure of the following two lines where the notes mostly descend) and sound very softly.

Oh..it could be that marvellous interplay between the different flutes-with one literally ‘calling’ and the other two ‘rolling’ with the bass guitar watching and smiling- in the first segment of the second interlude.

Ok, let me now think as to what gives me that melancholic feeling.

Is it the initial mouth organ piece which conveys what words fail to convey?

Or is it the brass flute which appears along with the vocals in the second line(Manam Thedum Suvaiyodu, DhinamthoRum Isai Paadu) ?

Or is it the sudden appearance of the other ‘ma’and the other ‘dha’ in the last two lines with even chromaticism in the phrase Sugam Kodi KaaNattum?

Or is it the second part of the solo-violin piece which again is chromatic?

Or is it the ‘silence’ between the flute pieces in the second interlude which suggests too many things?

Or the ‘fading’ of the santoor and the harmony between the two sets of chorus?

Or the toning down and slowing down of the percussion in the second charaNam ?

Hang on!

Looking back, I feel the same features or factors which gave me happiness, give me sadness too and vice-versa.

Why do I feel it? Can I explain?

I can’t... 

Can you?

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