Rhapsody

If I say that ‘one of my most unforgettable days is the day my first child was born’, I am sure you all will agree with me- provided you are married and have a child. 

I still remember that evening very well when the nurse came out of the labour room and showed us the little baby. I cried with uncontrollable joy, the kind of joy I had not experienced before. It will be an understatement to say that we were on Cloud 9 for the next 2-3 years. Holding him and putting him to sleep on the lap (and later on the shoulders), changing the nappies, feeding him, smiling and laughing with him, playing with him were all things which became part of our life. Each and every day was different and unique. Life had never been so beautiful!

 The rare gem of the day too talks about the joy of fondling a child. Thenil Aadum Roja from Avar Enakke Sontham (1977) is as soft as the breeze and as sweet as the honey. The santoor in the beginning and the flute which follows that hundred-stringed instrument from Kashmir, are full of energy. These give way to the humming (Suseela) before entering again and leading us to the Pallavi. 

 The Pallavi personifies happiness and the flute- between the lines- and the santoor at the end, jump with joy giving us an image of a child jumping and dancing. 

 The duo dominates the first interlude as well before the veena takes over. The combination of  western percussion and veena is different and might even sound odd but that was the time when this composer started experimenting with different sounds, a fact known to people who grew up during those days and listened to his compositions sequentially in the order of their release. 

 One gets reminded of Darwin while listening to the flute piece just towards the end of the first interlude. Isn't this a musical definition of the Theory of Evolution? 

It is ‘listening between the lines’ yet again in the CharaNam with the flute and the veena playing two short melodies one after the other, at the end of the first line. 

The structure of the CharaNam too is simple and beautiful in keeping with the mood of the song. The melody in the beginning is played again in the second interlude but with the sound of the veena being a welcome addition, and this itself gives a rousing start to the interlude. The flute enters yet again playing as softly as ever and one sees the budding Laya Raaja here with the slap bass which backs the flute melody, playing in 4 while the composition is set in 3. The interlude ends with the flute melody yet again but before that something happens. The solo-violin plays a melody which scythes through one’s heart. 

Poignancy –isn’t it part of one’s life too? 

 Life Lessons!

Persona and Personal

It may sound preposterous, absurd, laughable and even silly to people who know me well, but I cannot not make this statement:

When I listen to some of the songs, I sometimes tend to associate the actors who lip synched the song.

Coming as it does from a person who very recently made a statement in another forum that when he listens to Raaja songs, he sees only Raaja, this comes as a surprise even to me. In fact, whenever people mentioned ‘MGR songs’, ‘Sivaji songs’, ‘Rajini songs’ , ‘Kamal songs’, I never hid my amusement and I would even shoot back asking if it was these people who composed the songs and recorded the songs. But I realised last week that yes, even I tend to relate some particular songs with the actors, but let me tell you that these are just a select few and that this happens only at times.

Why last week?

It is because I read about the sudden demise of an actor(cum director) called Pratap Pothen. The moment I saw that, the image that flashed across my mind was the one with the actor carrying the guitar on his shoulders. As a corollary, multiple images came rushing through- him sitting with the guitar in Ooty even as the girl opposite to him was ill at ease, him playing the guitar to a group of urchins in a village, him sitting yet again in Ooty and sounding the guitar in a school excursion even as students watch him with awe…

People familiar with these sequences, know the songs that go along with those. The images are striking though. Are these because of Guitar? Are these because of the way the music gelled with the sequences? Or are these simply because the actor did full justice to the songs with his expressions and demeanour?

Well, this post is not so much about the acting skills of that gentleman as it is about the way he portrayed the characters giving respect to the music being played in the background. One cannot brush this aside as mere perception and this fact will be known if the sequences are watched thoroughly.

The fact of the matter is Pratap was one of the few actors in Tamizh cinema who was well-read, well-informed and who had a great sense of appreciation for music. The last one was confirmed about 5 years ago when I saw him in the audience at the Music Academy in one of the afternoon concerts during the December season. But apart from this fact, he was a huge Raaja fan. Given an opportunity, he has never failed to mention about the music of ILaiyaraaja and how his music helped him in the movies he directed. For that matter, when the ‘Royalty’ issue was at its peak with canards being spread against the Maestro by netizens who never understood the concept of copyright, Pratap mentioned in an interview as to how he did his first film as a director -Meendum oru kaadal kadai- for free.

As a tribute to this actor who was a connoisseur of sorts, let us look at a song in which he appeared without his trademark guitar.

The moment someone mentions ‘Nenjaththai KiLLade’, people will instantly remember either ‘Paruvame’ or ‘Uravenum’. There are two more songs of course, but the song under discussion today is unique and relevant. Relevant because it carries that sense of poignancy and unique because of the way it was composed.

Though one knows this composer as somebody who blends all major forms with consummate ease producing some classic compositions, each time he does that and each time when we listen to them we feel awe struck at the uniqueness. ‘Ye Thendrale’ is yet another example of this.

There is harmony, there is western classical, there is jazz..But above all there is ‘Raaja’.

Starting with two sets of chorus singing in two different octaves simultaneously with the electric guitar responding briefly, the prelude haunts us not least because of the chorus voice and the strings and some special sounds that follow.

The Pallavi in the voice of Suseela is melancholic to say the least, with even the bass guitar and the subtle piano keys sounding mournful. Coming to think of it even the percussion in the 6-beat cycle sounds wistful even as it plays ta ka dhi mi/ta ka.

The first interlude is a veritable treat in WCM, though briefly. The strings play in the beginning and towards the end and what is special about this is the bass sound from Cello, which accentuates the feeling of piteousness. Needless to say, these string sections sound sans percussion. Sandwiched between the two string sections is the electric guitar which whorls like gusty wind with the bass guitar and percussion backing it with a purpose.

The lines in the CharaNams are followed by the chorus and just towards the end-that is in the last line- when the chorus hums, it seems like a plaintive cry of a bird which had lost its partner in the woods and keeps looking for it.

The second interlude is yet again dominated by the strings and this domination is enjoyable indeed. The strings sound a melody. The brass flute along with a bevy of instruments respond twice, each time with a difference. This happens twice after which the strings are followed by the bells and the guitar. As the melody keeps encircling us, the brass flute plays a wistful melody. The pizzicato on the violin which follows and which keeps repeating the melody, the melody from the brass flute and the strings – all without percussion- seem as if there is a search for something hidden deep inside. It culminates in the chorus and the strings joining together and giving images which are rather indecipherable.

At times why and how we get certain images cannot be deciphered nor can it be explained. It just has to be felt!

 

 

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Sempiternal

A couple of years ago, the refrigerator at home started misbehaving. I called the Service Department who first asked me the model number. I went near the fridge, bent my neck, strained my back, noted down the number and read it out on the phone. The Engineer at the other end said ‘ Sir, this is 10 years old and therefore we don’t have the spare part. In fact, we stopped manufacturing the spares for this 5 years back’. I was flabbergasted and asked him the way out. His reply was simple. ‘It will work on its own if it is switched off for some time.’  What if it doesn’t? A giggle from that side which meant ‘You idiot. Go in for a new one’.

Which in effect means that the product was made to last just for 5 years and not a single day more. If it did last, we should thank our stars.

Does this apply just to one product? Look at the new versions of smart phones that come out in the market almost every month.  Look at the new editions of cars. Look at the TVs. Look at the computer system. Look at any consumer product you have at home. When was the last time you bought that and when do you think you will get a ‘new version’ or a ‘new edition’?

Contrast this with the things you had at home during your childhood and in your teens. How many times were new ones acquired in lieu of the old ones?

 Hardly a few…

Hope you all remember the Ambassador- the ubiquitous car seen on the road at least until 2014- which lasted 20,30,40 or even 50 years.

In fact, very recently I saw a 48 year old Premier Padmini in Chennai and was amazed at the way it was moving on the road.

It is as simple as this- Those days, products were made to last longer. 

Nowadays, they are made so that new versions can be brought out soon. Consumers are encouraged to change their ‘editions’ and exchange the old ones with the new ones. I remember seeing an ad for a mobile handset where a gentleman is chided by his friend for possessing a two-year old phone.

‘Outdated’- Isn’t this a very common phrase nowadays?

Well, I am not a person who hates technology or one who clings on to things which are obsolete. New Editions are always welcome provided these come out naturally as per the needs and demands. But this maddening pace where the shelf life is getting shortened by the day, in my opinion is not a healthy trend. There does not seem to be value for any product or for that matter respect for anything.

This indeed is a gross misinterpretation of Bharati’s verse. When the Mahakavi sang ‘Pazhaiyana Kazhidalum Pudhiyana Pugudhalum’(let old ones give way to the new ones), he meant ‘thinking’ and ‘ideas’ and not things which are materialistic..

To a great extent, this reflects our Life and the way we live. All we want is instant gratification. We want fast foods. We want Breaking news (in a way, all news is ‘breaking’ because we end up breaking our heads). We want to make a fast buck. We want everything which is new. In short, we have lost that virtue called patience.

We don’t have the patience to watch the Sunrise and the Sunset. We don’t have the patience to look at the Stars. We don’t have the patience to see the flight of a bird. We don’t have the patience to listen to the song of the  bird. We don’t have the patience to feel the sound of the breeze.

 We don’t have the patience to be one with Nature.

However, this happens at least in the Song of the Day. Two people dance in the rain with gay abandon. Forget that it is just a movie and forget about the sequence or about the actors.. The music makes me feel the joy and the romance and that is what matters to me.

Apart from creating that Rain mood, Poththukkittu Ooththdhadi Vaanam’ from  Paayum Puli (1980) , is musically very sound. It follows two different ragas in both Pallavi/ CharaNams and in the interludes, but the change is so smooth and seamless that one even hardly notices it (anyway, does one need to notice at all?).

It starts with the thundering sound of the rain. The differently sounding keys show the rain drops and Malaysia Vasudevan sings the first line even as the rain continues to pour with the Bass Guitar enjoying the atmosphere. The Keys sound like bubbles and the ever-enthusiastic strings shower us with melody. No percussion until now. But as the shehnai appears playing a melody in Mohanam( scale related to ShankarabharaNam with five common notes), two mridangams dance, with the first one playing ‘ta ka dhi mi’ and the other one playing only the ‘ta’ and ‘dhi’. Subtle bells and the keys are sounded in the background to enhance the experience.

The first line of the Pallavi is in ShankarabharaNam though the ‘ri’ and the ‘ga’ are absent. The following two lines are in Charukesi with the flute that appears at the end of each line too playing that raga. The last line has the common notes (ga ma pa ga ri sa) but one can clearly feel the Charukesi flavour in this and in the santoor which follows.

The first three lines of the CharaNams are in ShankarabharaNam while the last two lines are in Charukesi. The last two phrases in the last line have the podi sangatis as well and one sees the beautiful slide as the notes go on the descent. 

The change in percussion -from mridangam to Tabla/Dolak, the subtle change in the chatushram beats from the third line, and the bass guitar that sounds along with the percussion show the composer’s tendency to innovate and keep innovating.

A special mention must also be made of Suseela’s voice which touches the higher- octave from the mid-octave with consummate ease.

 ILaiyaraaja must have taken a Time-Machine and travelled to his childhood days in PaNNaippuram . This is what one feels while listening to the interludes..

In the first interlude, the two sets of strings pour water on each other-one in higher-octave and the other in mid-octave. In the same playful mood, the one in the higher –octave, provokes the flute which responds coyly. The santoor enters and does a graceful rain dance to give some respite to the strings. The strings then move ebulliently with the bass guitar applauding it.

The second interlude is even more colourful. With the thundering rain in the background, the bass guitar first plays without a raincoat on. The shehnai comes jumping, moving and fluttering like a bird. The santoor and the strings move in a circle. The flute does a contemporary western dance with the strings swaying from one side to another.

So, what if many things are transient now? This music is eternal and everlasting..

….like the Rain!

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Decoding

While writing about a four decade old song in a forum , I realised something.  

As a child, as a boy and then as an adolescent, I hardly paid attention to the meaning of the words in songs though I was almost thorough with the wordings of the song. There may have been exceptions here and there but the fact remains that it was music that attracted me even when I did not know much about the nuances.For that matter, I hardly knew music then..

When I took up that song to write, I was overwhelmed by the inner and deeper meanings. This is not to say that it was the first time I paid attention to the lyrics but it was a kind of revelation to me basically because I was listening to the song after a very long time and naturally my thoughts went back to those good old days when that song would give me vibrations because of the tune and because of the way it was sung. For that matter, I deciphered the raga of the song only now but this is besides the point and not within the scope of this post.

Two clarifications:

1. The song under reference is a non-Raaja song.

2.I wrote that post about 4 and half years ago.

Within days of writing about that song, I started humming yet another song but this time it was a Raaja song. Though I knew the song word by word, only this time did I notice as to how it has been written. A love duet, it describes the Nature’s beauty mostly and brilliantly connects it to the lovers. Vaali sir surely deserves a salute for doing this in a pure masala movie.

Have a look at the Pallavi and you will know why I am raving and gushing about this.

‘The reed by the riverside (NaaNal) dances with NaaNam(sorry no proper English word for this) and how can I describe that pleasure(of watching it)’, sings the Lady.

‘Nadiyoram naaNal ondRu naaNam koNdu naattiyam aaduthu mella, naan anda aanandam en solla’.

The man’s repartee: You are the reed by the riverside says your small waist.

‘Neeyum or naaNal endRu noolidai ennidam solla’

Forgetting for a moment that the heroine’s waist was as huge as an elephant’s, one can’t help appreciating the poetic brilliance.

The brilliance continues in the CharaNam too and the Lady sings  ‘From the cradle( sky )moves the white cloud and covers the mountain. Is it  cloud or is it a cloth?

VeNNiRa megam vaan thottilai vittu oduvathenna malaiyai mooduvathenna, mugil thaano thugil thaano..

Sky as the cradle..

‘mugil’ and ‘thugil’..

What an imagination!

Are the brains of great poets wired differently? Only qualified neurologists can answer this.

In the Second CharaNam, it is the grass capped by the sleeping dew –pani thoongum pasumpul-which has the privilege of grabbing the attention of the poet.

This song, Nadiyoram from Annai or Aaalayam(1979) has always been one of my evergreen favourites since the time it got released and needless to say it was because of the musical value.

The prelude draws a sketch of the river and the dancing reed in Suddha Dhanyasi with the piercing flute, the different sounding folk instrument and the mesmerising strings. In fact, the strings remind one of a cascade.

The Pallavi moves like a clear stream. Introducing the flute and the strings in the gap between the female and the male voices, making the percussion sound sharp only in this piece and giving an illusion of tempo-change by sounding the Tisram beats differently in two parts of the line (first ta ki ta plainly and then playing only the first and the second syllables from naan anda aanandam) show us the genius whose other name is ILaiyaraaja.

In fact, his signature continues in the CharaNams too when the strings play in higher octave for a count of 4 with the flute appearing just at the 4^th count like a naughty face of a child and then disappearing and again when the strings back the vocals albeit subtly, in the lines that follow.

We see the romance between the strings and the flute in the first interlude, with the strings climbing up the mountain and the flute fondly shaking the branches of the trees making the flowers fall on the ground. The guitar acknowledges this romance and the flute finally moves in circles across the mountain.

The second interlude shows the multi-dimensional Raaja.

If his sense of humour is seen in the piece just before the chorus , his respect for language and lyrics is seen in the last segment in which he musically creates the atmosphere of ‘Tea Garden’ by making the chorus hum ‘lululu lulu lu..’ and making the flute follow the chorus. And do I need to say that we see Raaja-the connoisseur in the first segment in which the mandolin piece moves innocuously and steadily with the strings playing a repeat melody, thus symbolising the snow and the mountain?

Suseela’s and SPB’s voices are surely like the honey from honeycomb!

Tailpiece: The song attracted me when I was an innocent (or is it ignocent?) boy.

The raga, tala and other technical details were discovered by me after nearly 25 years.

The deeper meanings of the lyrics were deciphered much later.

Do all these indicate something?

I really don’t know and don’t care..

..because a song is a song is a song..

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Chiselled Thoughts

Human mind is funny.

Some time  back, my daughter Dhenuka wanted me to read out ‘Sivagamiyin Sapatham’ that immortal classic penned by the immortal writer Kalki. As I read out some chapters, my thoughts went back with images moving in my mind. I was just around 9 then when I read this novel for the first time and now as I was reading it aloud, my mind started recollecting the entire story, episode after episode. At the same time, a song-or rather a particular line from a song- started playing in my mind constantly. And not without a reason..

The second part of the second CharaNam of that particular song refers to Maamallan and Sivagami- two main characters of the historical novel. For people not that familiar with Tamizh literature and the history of Tamizh Nadu, let me tell you that the novel is set in the 7^th Century and it talks about the Pallavas( a dynasty which ruled Tamizh land between the 3^rd and the 9^th Centuries).It was during the reign of Mahendravarman that the sculptures were carved and rock cut temples were built at Mahabalipuram. Narasimha Maamallan was the son of Mahendravarman and Sivagami was his lover. 

Hold on! 

Only the first part of the statement is true. The second part about ‘Sivagami’ is factually wrong.

Then why do I call it a great work? This is where that term called artistic liberty comes into play. An artiste (writer in this case) can take liberties with anything as long as it is aesthetic and relevant to his/her story. This by no stretch of imagination can be called as ‘distorting history’. On the other hand, it only shows the creativity of the writer.

So masterfully did the author craft the story that it is very difficult to believe that Sivagami is a fictitious character. In fact, he also makes Sivagami visit the great Tamizh poet Thirunavukkarasar in his Matam in Kanchi and makes her dance to his couple of TevArams. Yes, Sivagami was an excellent classical dancer!

Going back to me ‘reading sessions’, needless to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Don’t I enjoy reading chaste Tamizh aloud? But apart from this fact, there is one more reason-as already mentioned.

The song ‘Oru Kaadal Devatai’ from ‘Saainthadamma Saainthaadu’(1977) always gives me nostalgic feelings. This was his first ever KeeravaNi(though I knew only ‘Keerai’ and ‘VaNi’ those days). It is composed in a high pitch and can easily lead one to believe that it is in VakuLabharaNam(same is the case with ‘Ore idam nirandaram’ from Sattam En Kaiyyil and ‘KaN malargaLin Azahippidazh’ from Thai Pongal). It is because of the graha bedam aspect and since there is a separate Blog for such explaining such technical details, I would prefer to do the explanation (not necessarily for this song) in that Blog.

Another interesting feature of ‘Oru Kaadal Devatai’ is that the audio version has the truncated prelude and first interlude. This, in fact is a common feature of many of early year songs (till the first part of ’78). The unabridged version will be available only in the film version(OST).  Since I hardly watched such films those days, I always went by the audio version available on the radio. Only a chance visit to You Tube made me aware of this fact. Now, contrast this with the present day trend of chopping off part of his song(s) or even the whole song(s) in the film version.

Since the OST version has the prelude and interlude in full, I am describing this version only ( I managed to rip this version). However, I am also giving the link to the audio version since the recording quality of OST is below average.

‘Oru Kaadal Devatai’ is a racy duet.

It starts with three different sets of instruments playing three different sets of notes simultaneously- the dulcet-toned small flute, the higher-octave strings and the subtle bass guitar. After a while, it is the turn of the piped instruments and the strings and these two too play different sets of notes. Only difference is that now the percussion-which was silent during the flute-strings-bass guitar session - plays the chatushram beats with gusto.

The entire musical piece described above is missing in the audio version.

I must say one more thing here. Those days, Raaja sir would introduce at least one new sound in an album and he would use that sound almost throughout the song. I shall give more examples in my future posts. In Oru Kaadal.., he has used an instrument which gives a bubbly sound (not sure if it is from a keyboard though I know he was the pioneer in using different kinds of keyboards as early as 1977!). This sound appears now along with the bass guitar and leads to the Pallavi.

SPB starts the Pallavi in his inimitable style and Suseela joins with her sweet tone in the second half. In between we have the higher-octave strings playing for a period of 3 chatushram cycles! Also note that the lyrics are slightly different when the female renders it. The bass guitar acts both as one of the percussion instruments apart from providing melody. Here I can’t help mentioning about a Bass Guitarist, who about 6 years ago made a statement in a National Newspaper that nobody knew the existence of Bass Guitar until 1992! Wonder how the so called musicians can flaunt their ignorance so openly!!

The first segment of the first interlude is a marvel. The strings play thrice, each time in a different octave. What a glide! The second segment has the saxophone etching a melody with the western flute repeating it with some minor changes. Between these two (the sax and the flute), the strings play very briefly in higher octave. All along the ever-disciplined bass guitar plays in its unique style. The special sound appears again leading to the first CharaNam. The sax-western flute-strings segment is totally missing in the audio version.

Some beautiful wordings in Tamizh embellish the lines in the CharaNam. We also see the strings being interspersed between the lines. As I said earlier in one of my posts, it always pays to read (and listen) between the lines in a Raaja sir’s composition.

Is it a twin - brass flute in the beginning of the second interlude? Or is any other instrument played along with the brass flute? It is indeed difficult to say. Rather than asking such a question and thinking about it, is it not better to just enjoy that sound? The special sound mentioned in the beginning appears again now. The strings follow and then change the scale and play the same notes transporting us to a new place and showing us some beautiful moving images. The special sounding instrument and the strings indulge in a brief conversation before guiding us to the second CharaNam.

And this is where that line appears which made me reminisce about this song as I was reading out the novel to my little daughter..

A reading session made me think of this song effectively filling my mind with it for many days, finally resulting in this post.

Human mind is funny..

..Or is it?

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Artistry

What is creative thinking? What is inspiration? Or these two mutually exclusive or inclusive?

In Management, a creative thinker is defined as one who looks at problems or situations from a fresh perspective and suggests unorthodox solutions. Inspiration is the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.

All geniuses get inspired from others’ works. The episode involving Kamban and a farmer and the line ‘moongil ilai mele thoongum pani neere’ is well known to people who follow Tamizh Literature(people who are not aware of this need not worry.It will be part of a forthcoming post).

Some of the compositions of Raaja sir’s have been inspired from the works of some great composers. But the genius that he is, Raaja sir took just a few lines and expanded these in his own way. In all fairness to the great legends, some of the inspired pieces even sound better than the original.

In any case, this post is not about such pieces. It is about Raaja getting inspired by Raaja.

It is not uncommon for directors to quote some known popular songs and ask for the same tune(s). Here, I am talking about his own songs in other languages. A normal composer would simply give the same tune and the tracks. In fact, they would even thank the director mentally for reducing the ‘burden’. But not this genius..He sees to it that even in remakes, he adds some subtle changes. The case of ‘Lalita Priya Kamalam’ and ‘Idhazhil Kadhai Ezhuthum’ is a classic example.

I can of course quote many examples, but for now, let me focus on the song of the day. ‘Maanjolai KiLidhaano’, in my opinion is a masterpiece in Laya. I have written about the Laya aspect elaborately in my other blog (https://rajamanjari.blogspot.in/2014/07/laya-raaja-3.html)  and have also explained albeit briefly during the Laya Raaja presentation in Geetanjali-2016. I shall take this up more elaborately in the next Laya Raaja presentation.

‘Kizhakke Pogum Rail’ was remade in telugu as ‘Toorpu Velle Railu’, but the director was different. Yes, the music director was different too(SPB) and the tunes were totally different. This movie was released in 1979. Around the same time, ‘Panchabhootalu’ was released too. I am really not sure if the director of ‘Panchabhootalu’ wanted the tune or Raaja sir himself decided to use the tune(this is unlikely anyway) but the fact is ‘Kavvinche Kallalo’ was born.

While the tamizh version is a male solo, the telugu version is a duet in the voices of SPB and Suseela. But let us see how the Master has improvised his own composition.

To start with, the two are in different shrutis. Secondly, the ‘kaala pramaaNam’(aka as the tempo) is different with the tamizh one in a slightly faster tempo.

The tamizh version starts with the percussion(and what a ‘tani aavartanam’ it is..would make a carnatic percussionist proud!). ‘Kavvinche..’ starts with a very brief sitar piece followed by the sympathetic strings with the bell sounding different notes simultaneously. Suseela’s akaaram follows. SPB pitches in with his akaaram(what a beautiful and different counterpoint!). Suddha Dhanyasi sketched in a matter of seconds by the painter!

The percussion takes over. Now, it is the same laya pattern like its Tamizh original but there is a change in the instruments. In ‘Maanjolai’, the friendly banter is predominantly between the pakhawaj and the tabla. In ‘Kavvinche..’, the mugarsing(or morsing) enters the fray and plays along with the tabla to add spice. There is a subtle difference in the sound of tabla and pakhawaj too.

The subtle difference is seen in the structure of the lines in the Pallavi and even in the way the tabla sounds in the background. It is sharper and more distinct in the telugu version.

One of the most beautiful aspects of the tamizh version is the sounding of the percussion for every third beat, leaving a gap of two beats in the beginning of the first interlude. It continues in the telugu version too. What is different is the combination of the instruments which follow. If it is the veena which sounds in ‘Maanjolai’, it is the jalatarangam in ‘Kavvinche’. Moreover, the sitar follows in the latter. There is a subtle change in the flute piece too, especially in the beginning.

The first CharaNam remains almost the same except that one sees a couple of more podi sangatis in Suseela’s rendering. Of course, that beautiful ‘ta ki ta/ ta ki  ta/ ta ki  ta / ta ki  ta/ ta ka dhi mi’ in the last line is retained without any change.

What happens in the second interlude proves my strong conviction that ILaiyaraaja is the greatest composer in Indian Film Music. In the tamizh version, the raga changes to Kharaharapriya( with some magical orchestration and laya exercises) and this continues in the first half of the second CharaNam.

The Master does not change the raga in the telugu version. Instead, he uses only the vocals (chorus and Suseela) in the entire interlude. He then improvises giving a totally new melody (in the same raga) in the first half of the second CharaNam(people who know telugu can appreciate the beautiful lyrics too here!). The tune in Suddha Dhanyasi, the different backing of the pakhawaj, the rendering of SPB and Suseela and the poetic lyrics transport us to a Musical New World..

The world of creativity..

Inspiration and Creativity-are these mutually exclusive or inclusive?

The Music of the Emperor will silently answer this..

                  

                  

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