Conflux

 

‘How does a lady plait her hair? She takes three strands of hair, weaves the strands with the strands criss-crossing one another and at the end of it, what do we see- Three or two? This is how we should consider the river Saraswati too’.

This explanation was given by a speaker in Tamizh, during a religious discourse in Secunderabad during my formative years. Honestly, I don’t remember the name of the gentleman who said this, though I know he was a very popular figure as far as religious discourses are concerned. But his words remain firmly etched in my memory simply because of his ability to compare two similar and yet dissimilar things and connect the two so that the concept is easily understood by the audience. In a way, it was also a lesson for all aspiring teachers and most importantly trainers, a fact which I realise now after many years.

When I had to plait my little daughter’s hair for at least a month-when my wife travelled abroad- I was reminded of that speech again. Of course, it is a different issue that my wife wrote down each step on a piece of paper and that I kept referring it at least for a week before I managed to do that act successfully(how successful I was, only my daughter knows!).

No, this is not a post on plaiting hair and if at all you got the impression that I am going to talk about a song which describes the beauty of a woman’s hair, I would request you to not to jump to any conclusions and show patience.

The reason for my writing about that explanation has more to do with the river Saraswati and the place where it is supposed to be flowing and less with hair.

There are a lot of stories about the mythical river with major references in the Rig veda and in the Mahabharata. The origin of the river is supposedly in a place in the present day Afghanistan. But the place where the river Saraswati acquires significance is Allahabad, a city in U.P. Ganga and Yamuna meet at this place and it is believed that Saraswati is flowing underground and the place being called ‘Triveni Sangam’, meaning the meeting of three rivers. This in fact is the pride of Allahabad and leaving aside the mythology, the place where the rivers meet is a connoisseur’s delight and it is but natural for nature lovers to fall in love at first sight.

It is also natural for me to write about a song which describes that great city called Allahabad.

The beauty of ‘Shehar Hai Khoob Kya Hai’ from ‘Chal Chalein’(2009) lies in the way the city has been sketched poetically(lyrics:Piyush Mishra) and musically.

‘What a beautiful city!’ exclaims a group of students and then go on a trip across the city.

But before that the Master prepares them for the trip. And how?

The piano keys flutter and fly like butterflies, with the echo effect typifying the beautiful creatures going in different directions. The humming of Shreya backed by the various synth instruments show us the view of the ‘Sangam’ from the top.

‘What a Beautiful City!A place where the great Harivanshrai (Bachchan) lived. Feel the Ganga, Yamuna and the Swaying Saraswati’, sing the butterflies in the voices of Shreya Ghoshal, Shaan and Krishna Beaura.

The first CharaNam talks about the Big B, the Chaat, Intellectuals and Alfred Park where Chandrasekhar Azad laid down his life for the cause of Freedom while the second CharaNam talks about the home where our first PM was born, about the second PM who spent his childhood in the city, about the Hindi poet Mahadevi Varma who taught in the University there.

The pure whistle in the beginning of the first interlude followed by the synth instruments take us through the main roads, gullies, book shops, and to the Triveni again.

The percussion in the first segment of the second interlude reminds one of a boat journey on the river while the shifting of the scale from the major to minor and the S.E.Asian music towards the end symbolise change, at the same time indicating that certain things remain the same irrespective of the change and life flows..

..like the mythical river Saraswati!

Azure

The sky is a splattered sunset orange. The sun, a blazing hoop of fire, balances itself on the taut line of the horizon and then sinks effortlessly into the sea. The swaying palm leaves make silhouettes and the last of the sailboats are heading, still aided by a strong breeze, homewards. The next time I look up, the orange of the sky has given way to many shades of pink and below it lies a tranquil sea, still heaving but in a tired, late –evening manner, without the vigour that had come roaring out of its heart in the morning and ended as churning white foam at the feet of grizzled old fishermen, waiting there with the dawn. 

This is a passage from the book ‘Second Thoughts’ written by Navtej Sarna. This gentleman is very passionate about literature and has a writing style which at best can be described as ‘poetic and spell-binding’. If I was asked to name some of my most favourite books, I am sure ‘Second Thoughts’ would be in that list.

This small description of the evening sky is enough to justify my choice, though I would never agree that the sea would ever tire.

 There are four objectives for reproducing that passage:

1. To expose members to such interesting and beautiful writing,

2. To dispute the fact that the sea can ‘tire’,

3.To create the right ambience for the song of the day,

4.To establish the connection between the passage and the song.

There is a lot of synergy between the description and today’s song- NaaLum NaaLum from 60 Vayadhu MaaniRam (2018).

 To me at least, the song gives a vision of a beautiful evening with the sun setting in the west and the reddish golden sea bidding adieu to the sun saying, ‘We will meet soon’. Sea being sea, it will see the sun the next day morning though it will be its brother on the other side(will I sound politically incorrect if I say ‘the Arabian sea is the brother of Bay of Bengal?’).

What attract me to this most recent composition of the Maestro’s are many things.

1.Tune- Though one need not worry about the raga or the scale, the fact that it is based on ShankarabharaNam cannot be brushed aside. What cannot be brushed aside is also the fact that the entire tune is soft, as soft as the petal on which the morning dew sits cosily. The way the Pallavi and CharaNams are structured-listen to the higher octave tone in the second half- are lessons for the present day Music Directors whose Pallavis start in Mumbai and the CharaNams go to Goa.

2.Sound Engineering- One of the many misconceptions about him is that he is weak in sound technology. The facts that he was the pioneer in using the superimposing technology, stereophonic technology and many more new technologies are not known to this world. Here too, the sound engineer inside him comes to the fore in the way the vocals are placed-the echo of the male voice in the beginning, the superimposition of the lead voice and the chorus voice being some examples.

3. Chorus- He is always known for his brilliant use of the chorus. But when it comes to the genuine western style harmony, he is outstanding. The ‘shaanana naana’ in the prelude and in the first interlude, the ‘Ooo Uvuvoo’ in the Pallavi, and the humming in the CharaNams show his proclivity for using chorus and his immaculate creativity.

4.Lead Voice- ‘Monali Thakur’ trained under Pt.Ajay Chakraborti and has also won the President’s award for the best female singer in 2015. At a time when we come across so many artificial voices , this voice is a rarity. It is pure and is melodious too. Her tamizh diction is close to perfection (she perfectly sings ‘naaLum naaLum’, but in between she has problems with ‘Na’ and with ‘varudam’). Would like to see her sing more in his music..

5.Orchestration- How he manages to bring out the same old magic, album after album, remains a mystery. The instruments start only after 29 seconds but listen to the guitar sound in the prelude and along with the vocals in the beginning of the Pallavi. The guitar combines so well with the synth and back the vocals almost throughout. The melody which follows the chorus in the first interlude is something which has to be enjoyed. The melody in the second interlude may sound repetitive but a close observation suggests that each time the melody is played- it plays 4 times-, there is a different kind of response from the synth instruments. The synth melody just towards the end of the second interlude is soft, sensitive and sparkling.

The tranquil sea- Will it ever tire?

Sixth Sense

 

Quite often we come across statements like ‘I have a gut feeling that this is surely going to happen’, or even questions like ‘Do you have the guts to do that?’

What exactly do we mean by this ‘gut’? It is the gastrointestinal tract involved in digestion.

 It would surprise some (or even many) that this gut is inextricably linked to our feelings and emotions. The brain and the gut keep sending constant signals to each other from time to time. In fact, it is said that 90% of serotonin- the neurotransmitter which transmits nerve impulses between nerve cells, which contributes to well being and happiness, which is responsible for mood balance and whose deficit leads to depression- is produced in the gut. That is why, whenever we are emotionally disturbed, we instantly feel the pain in the abdomen; our digestion gets affected and in severe cases, the acid reflux is felt which in turn creates a burning sensation in the heart. We also feel ‘butterflies in stomach’ when we are tensed.

Now, this gut is also responsible for our intuition and that instinctive feeling which occurs to us suddenly without any logical reasoning. Interestingly enough, the solar plexus, which as per the KuNdalini theory is the third chakra and which is responsible for our self-esteem, ego and our personality as a whole is located in the same region. It is said that telepathy happens in the solar plexus. This explains as to why we get sudden strange feelings, thoughts and emotions. Though the connection between the brain and the gut exists, this is limited only to the neurotransmitters. There is a school of thought who believes that most of the times, the gut is independent of the brain and research on this is still on.

So, the next time if you want to take a major decision, should you listen to the head or the gut?

I can’t answer this as I am not qualified enough. But based on these studies and based on my following a music composer for the last 48 years, I can say one thing with guts:

ILaiyaraaja’s gut feel is mainly responsible for the beauty in his music.

By ‘beauty’ I mean the suddenness with which certain things appear in his compositions. It could be a guitar piece in ‘SiRu ponmaNi asaiyum’ or the flute piece in ‘Vedam nee’. It could be the transition from Mohanam to Shanmukhapriya in ‘KaalangaL MazhaikkaalangaL’ or the quick change of ragas from Rasika Ranjani to Revagupti to Sunaadavinodini to Lalit to Hamsaanandi, all in a matter of just around 10 seconds in ‘Neela kuyile’. Or it could be the graha bedam on a very rare raga like Lavangi to give Mandaari in ‘KaNgaLukkuL unnai ezhudhu’.

If these are just some samples of his intuition, the Rare Gem of the day is yet another example of the same. The difference between a sample and an example of course lies in the fact that while the former is mentioned in passing (these have been elaborately discussed in the Group), the latter is discussed rather elaborately.

‘Alai alaiyaayi pala aasaigaLe’ from ‘NaaLai Unadhu NaaL’(1984) is a fast paced composition. If I am not wrong, it is sung by a young woman, with her friends dancing with her on the beach. The situation is not that challenging and yet he has come out with a beautiful tune in Pahaadi. But there is nothing great about this as he has done this in many obscure movies directed by obscure directors.

However, the reason for my considering him as one of the greatest composers in the history of world cinema music is shown in the last segment of the second interlude.

The composition follows the 4-beat chatushram cycle. Now, there is a scale change at 2.34 and this is not uncommon in a film composition. But what happens after 5 seconds is surely uncommon, that is if one takes film music in general. The pattern suddenly changes to the 3-beat cycle tisram with the tempo being the same. Let me clarify that the 4 to 3 change occurs in a typical carnatic concert when the percussionist does the ‘vistaaram’ with the tempo undergoing a change. However, in the case of ‘Alai alaiyaai’, the 3 is made to fit in 4. In carnatic music parlance, this is called ‘gati bedam’ and as far as my knowledge goes, no other composer has even tried this in film music(the other song which immediately comes to my mind- where Raaja sir has done this- is ‘Pallaviye CharaNam’).

Most importantly, he has not used any percussion instrument here and it is the ‘clap sound’ which sounds the 3(ta ki ta) even as the saxophone plays a joyful melody with the bass guitar-as usual- playing a counter melody.

If this is not intuitive and instinctive, what else is?

The composition as such is great with the South East Asian flavour in the prelude and in both the interludes. The guitar, flute, trumpets and a host of instruments add glory to the composition (not to forget the ubiquitous bass guitar) while the voice of Uma RamaNan is unique in its own way.

But with geniuses who are intuitive, you must always expect the unexpected. And this is what happens in the end after the Pallavi is rendered again. Uma RamaNan hums ‘la laa la laa’ and the gati bedam happens again , this time without the backing of the sax. What we have are the vocals with the guitar responding now and then!

Guts at its Best!!

Irrationally rational

 “Men should not cry”.

Isn’t this one of the many stereotypical statements(or should I call it ‘belief’?) used generously and ubiquitously since time immemorial? Though ‘times have changed’(again a cliched expression!), I don’t think the perception has undergone any major change. The spontaneous reaction to a man crying in public or for that matter even at home will be this – Look at him, crying like a woman- as if crying is the prerogative of a particular gender. In a way, this too is misogyny of a different form.

Why am I saying all this suddenly?

It is because I cried today just sometime ago.

What was the reason?

Let me explain. I was pretty down since morning, feeling listless and feeling as if my energy was sapped by an unknown force. Not knowing what to do, I randomly clicked on a video. It was a speech by the Maestro himself on RamaNa Maharishi. Even as I was watching and listening, I felt tears swelling up in my eyes and like the city of Chennai in the month of October, it started overflowing( Chennai – My eyes; Tears- Floods; My face- Roads) without any reason or even season. Should there always be a reason for everything?

And without any reason, my thoughts instantly went to a particular song whose first line says – I get tears in my eyes without any reason.

Like many compositions of his-filmy or non-filmy- ‘KaaraNam indri kaNNeer varum’ (Raajavin RamaNamaalai) is full of emotions. Based on the Hindustani raag Madhukauns, the composition makes one travel on the roads of ThiruvaNNamalai with the destination being very clear.

The violin piece in the higher-octave makes me enter the Ashram and head straight to the hall.

The tabla in the Pallavi is very special as it plays the chatushram beats languorously. So is the subtle sound of the jaalra which plays the first beat of every cycle.

The absence of percussion in the first interlude which has the guitar and the flute with the former plucking the strings of our heart and the latter piercing our soul, is special as well.

Well, coming to think of it, there is no percussion in the second interlude as well, even as the long flute and the guitar keep asking questions.

‘Open my eyes’ – This is what the song says.

And I cry…

Is there a reason? I don’t know and I don’t want to know..

Apogee

The mind!

One of the most enigmatic and mysterious things in the world. Conquer the mind and you will conquer the Universe. After all, aren’t these two related?

Why am I talking about this now? Though there are varied reasons, the prime one is the significance of the day. It is the 176^th aaradhana of Tyagaraja, one of the most prolific and genius composers the world has ever seen and whose name itself is enough to define music. Let me give just two samples of his genius.

The 7^th CharaNam of the first Pancharatna(these 5 kritis are considered to be the pinnacle) goes something like this – Omkaara panjara keerapura- which means – You are the parrot who lives in the cage of PraNavaa-, the swaras in ‘Omkaara’, being ‘Sa..sa…..’, that is, the upper Sa for Om and then just the sustenance on the lower sa, giving the sound of the PraNavaa(Om).

In the 1^st CharaNam of the 5^th Pancharatna, which goes like ‘Saama gaana lola’, he has composed in such a way that it just sounds like the Saama veda, the veda known for its musicality.

I know these are some advanced details and I have tried to simplify it as much as possible so that the intricacies are brought to light and the nuances are appreciated.

In the beginning, I spoke about the mind. Let us see a kriti of his which was used by ILaiyaraaja- who happens to be an ardent devotee of Tyagaraja. In fact, this kriti was used by him twice in two different movies. The one I am posting now is in the voice of Yesudass and Janaki from ‘Isai Paadum ThendRal’(1986).

For a change, I am not going to keep the description brief. But before that, I must tell you all that there are two versions to this kriti, ‘Manasuloni Marmamulu Telusuko’, one in Hindolam and the other in a raga called Varamu, which has the other variant of the ‘ga’. Raaja sir however has used only the Hindolam version in both the movies.

The bird call in the beginning sets the tone ideally. After all, isn’t our mind too like a bird? With pulsating weight, Janaki sings the akaaram. It is a beautiful sketch of that grand raga called Hindolam, whose Hindustani counterpart Malkauns is sung during the small hours in the morning after midnight, as per theory. The raga then moves with coherence and fluency, unfolding with great zeal, unravelling the beauty with grace and sensitivity. The overlapping of the swaras and the superimposition are like a rapier cut. Only difference is that this is soft and soothing.

Yesudass joins and continues the akaaram in his inimitable way. The brief rhythmic ensemble towards the end is the jewel in the crown.

‘Understand the inner yearning of my mind, Oh the One with the hues of the Emerald and whose heart if always filled with bliss!! In the past You protected me with your immense affection. Hold my hand now as I need You the most now’.

Applies to all, irrespective of caste, creed and religion.

Mind is the Universe. Universe is the Divine.

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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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Volition

 

“The new Mayor of Chennai Corporation is a woman.”

“11 out of 20 Mayors in Tamizh Nadu are women.”

These lines are part of the headlines in leading newspapers last week. What does this convey?

Women Empowerment? That women in our country are now out of the clutches and that the cliched Glass ceiling has been broken?

Before we attempt to draw any conclusions, let me reproduce a small passage:

“Listen to me. You may be the President of whatever of that ‘xyz’ company, but when we come home, you are a wife and a mother and a daughter. Nobody can take that place. So, leave your crown in the Garage.”

This passage is extracted from the autobiography of Indra Nooyi, the first woman CEO of that multinational company and that ‘dialogue’ was uttered by her mother when the CEO-Designate drove back home and broke the news to her mother.

The headlines quoted in the beginning and this passage may sound relevant to some and may sound irrelevant to many. But the fact of the matter is, women-not just in India, but across the world- are discriminated against, their roles being stereotyped with the ‘crown’ sitting uncomfortably on their heads, ready to be dislodged at the drop of a hat!

‘All said and done, she is a woman’- Is there anybody who has not used this expression? And this includes women too.. Indra’s mother, a woman herself cannot extricate herself from the definition of the ‘duties of a woman’. In a way, she is no different from that gentleman called Manu, whose lines have been quoted ad nauseam.

At the other end of the spectrum-which is diametrically opposite to that ‘empowerment theory’, we get to see crimes and atrocities against women continuing unabated, not just in the oppressed class, but also in the elite class. The shameful and nauseous incident involving the Malayalam actor which happened in 2017 and despite all evidence, being dragged by the court of law with the main accused continuing to enjoy the ‘immunity’ and even continuing to act in films, is a case in point. The fact that the female actor is audacious and doggedly pursuing the case without giving up even an inch despite the aspersion cast, is indeed appreciable and shows the light at the end of the tunnel.

Women are not objects or subjects but are human beings with a free will. If we realise this fact(and here ‘we’ means both men and women), only then can we say that women are empowered.

Being glorified as ‘Shakti’, being put on a pedestal, being considered a gold ornament which is at best kept inside the locker or used only as an ornament on occasions, being made to occupy powerful positions only to keep reminding them of their ‘duties’ as a ‘stree’, are not things a woman wants. What they want is Respect in real sense without assuming that the power to give freedom lies with a male.

In the song of the day, I feel that freedom. ‘Karpoora Mullai OndRu’ from ‘Karpoora Mullai’(1991) reminds me of a free bird which flies without any inhibitions.

The beginning itself suggests this. The female voice humming ‘Bam ha Bam Bam’ with the chorus joining in soon and the different sound which sounds like a ball falling down and bouncing back, kindles interest. A kind of interest which would make anything interesting. The bass guitar and the keys follow suit and produce sound which can be called ‘naughty and notorious’. In short, Freedom at its best!

We move like that uncontrollable river in a forest- sings Chitra in the Pallavi in which the bass guitar and the drums back the vocals in their signature style.

The bass strings continue their journey in the first interlude with the brass instruments peeping in in the beginning and then going on their own trip. The bass strings enter again but this time the violins join them and it is two different melodies superimposed. The bass strings take a turn and chart their own path, after a while and lead to the CharaNam.

The beginning of the CharaNam is different yet again with the chorus singing in harmony.

We can no longer be tied like how a snake is made to sleep inside a box. No longer are we the ‘Sitas’ to be confined to the boundaries – sings the chorus.

We move like the silver chariot in the night, singing and dancing to ourselves.

It is the funny sound of the guitar which first attracts us in the second interlude. The strings follow moving like a stream. The chorus hums a melody and though it is repetitive, it does not sound stale because of the tune and also because of the guitar which backs the vocals.

A river flows on its own. It need not ask anybody about its path.

A cuckoo sings on its own. It need not seek permission.

Hope people who build dams or people who cage the birds are listening!

 

Distinct

 

‘’Have you at any point of time fallen in love or has anybody proposed to you?’’

Long pause..

“I would rather not answer this question.”

This interaction which happened on a TV channel long ago between a media person, who is ‘nosy’(literally and figuratively) and a very popular singer, remains firmly etched in my memory. Those were the days when ‘social’ and ‘media’ were independent words and the word joining the two had not yet been coined. But still in my opinion, this is no different from the kind of messages one gets to see ad nauseam on the present-day social media platforms with more focus on sensation and the personal lives of well-known people and less on their strengths and what they are known for, trying to give a false identity.

While I would refrain from naming the TV personality who asked that question, I would surely love to mention the name of the very popular singer, who will surely fall in the bracket of ‘Legends’ in the pantheon of not just film personalities but also musicians.

If there is a name which is a house-hold name in every nook and cranny of our country, it is Lata Mangeshkar. Even in the state where Hindi is always looked at with scorn, where the word Hindi itself is an anathema to many and where languages are given political colours, this lady and her songs have played and will continue to play in a majority of households.

In fact, the question that was asked by the media personality, reminded me of a dialogue from a rather popular Tamizh film in which the wife of the musician-the protagonist in the movie-, asks him if Lata Mangeshkar is married. Coming as it did from a character who is ignorant about music, this is not surprising, but the fact that most of us- especially of late- miss the wood for the trees cannot be denied.

I shall leave this for a while and try and touch upon this towards the end.

Going back to the singer, I must admit that though I grew up with that voice during my pre-teen days in Madras and during my phase in Hyderabad(what that phase is, has been told many times and therefore I would prefer to leave it now), I was enamoured of this voice, later on, that is after listening to many others, my loyalties shifted. Yet, I or for that matter anyone can deny the fact that the impact the voice has made on people across the globe can hardly be matched.

The South Indian connection the singer had, is known only to some. It went beyond singing songs-mainly for Raaja sir. Long ago, she watched a movie of Sivaji Ganesan and became a fan instantly. This developed into a beautiful relationship and whenever she visited Madras, she would stay in their house. She considered him as an elder brother and even became a part of their family.

It is not a coincidence that her re-entry song in Tamizh films (she had already sung a couple of songs under Naushad for the movie ‘Aan’ which was dubbed from Hindi in 1953 - was produced by Sivaji productions. This movie ‘Anand’ had Sivaji’s son Prabhu in the lead role. But the song we are going to see, is different.

The impact the song Engirundho Azhaikkum from En Jeevan Paaduthu (1988) makes on people can be known from the fact that when Raaja sir’s wife listened to it, she broke down instantly.

What starts as a kind of haunting humming with the strings in higher-octave giving the impetus, softens with the entry of guitar and the keys which play the same notes simultaneously with the bass guitar in the background. But what is amazing is the very subtle sound of the strings which play a sustained note.

The Pallavi in Mishra Pahaadi attains a special sheen in the voice of the legend, who by then had passed her prime and yet sounded good. I am reminded of an article by T.M.Krishna today where he says ‘Her voice aged, but it never sounded old’.

The haunting feel continues in the first interlude as well with one set of strings going up and the other set responding. As before, it is left to the guitar to bring sobriety. Not to be missed is the sound of the subtle strings playing the sustained notes(yet again!). After a brief intervention by the brass flute, the guitar continues its journey like a karma yogi. The flute enters yet again but this time playing in a different octave.

What follows is the definition of plaintiveness. The strings play as if all the notes have been soaked in a stream called ‘Melancholy’. What adds to this feeling is the sound from bass guitar, which in fact, continues to play even after the interlude ends, well into the first CharaNam and then throughout the CharaNam backing the vocals.

Also making an appearance is the flute between the lines and the strings along the lines.

But it is finally the tune in the CharaNam which makes one lugubrious and pensive. The upper registers are touched in the penultimate line but the last line sees a dash of alien notes(which makes this particular raag more beautiful) and needless to say one sees O. Henry Raaja here.

One gets to see him more in the second interlude when a recorder like instrument makes a sudden entry after a ‘zig-zag’ melody from the strings. The strings take over again and gives a sense of mystique, going linear first and curvilinear next. It reaches a crescendo and touches the peak as if to show that nothing else exists beyond that.

Poojya = PoorNa.

Names will be forgotten. Faces will change..The voice is the identity..

But finally, even beyond all this, Music is the only identity..

Music from the Eternity!

 

Evergreen

 About 4 months ago, something happened in a campus in Chennai. Some trees were mercilessly chopped off and some were ‘trimmed’. What makes this worse is the fact that the Institution is known for its aesthetic sense and the founder of the Institution- who in fact revolutionised the dance form in terms of breaking the shackles and bringing in some novel ideas on stage - was known for her love for nature. She will surely be turning in her grave as her ideals have been murdered by people who manage the Institution now.

Personally speaking, it affected me a lot not just because I love nature and trees, but also because I have a special attachment with that campus, my childhood memories being the main reason. Though I came to realise this much later, seeds for my love for nature and also my sense of aesthetics were sown in this campus. I also remember sowing seeds in that campus on the first day of Aadi every year. Though the two seeds in the previous two lines are different, there is an irrefutable connection between the two.

I have always wondered as to why a majority of humans do not pay attention to trees around them; as to why they do not respect the trees; as to why they do not love the trees; as to why they turn a blind eye to the cutting of trees.

In one of the recent books I read- The Island of Missing Trees- the author Elif Shafak says trees can communicate between themselves and that the trees have feelings though this may differ from the feelings of humans. As per Indian astrology too, each of the 27 stars is associated with a particular tree and if there is a defect in the horoscope, people are advised to plant a particular tree or at least water the tree. Note also that all major temples have a ‘stala vruksha’.

It is easy to brush all these aside as blind beliefs and superstitions. But what cannot be and should not be brushed aside is the fact that trees have the freedom to live in this world as much as humans have. Therefore, humans have no right to cut any tree.

The song of the day may not have any relation-direct or indirect- with trees. However, it talks about shedding violence and inculcating a spirit of camaraderie among humans.

The beginning of Kamsam Dhwamsam from Keecharallu (1991) itself makes me feel the pain of the trees. The humming by SPB, Chitra and chorus sounds like the agony suffered by those beautiful creatures whose language is not understood by humans. The drums, which play only the second beat of the 4-beat cycle prominently and the claps which do the same in the next half, show the depth of the pain. The piped instruments too sound a melody which is abstract.

The MaNipravaLam in the Pallavi-which has a mix of Telugu and Hindi- is more relevant as it talks about arts- fine arts at that! The irony here cannot be missed as the Institution under reference is known for teaching and training students on Fine arts!

The piped instruments continue sketching an abstract melody in the first interlude with the bass guitar and the rhythm guitar nodding their heads rather nonchalantly. The short silence in the interlude and the melody that follows, show images of violent acts.

It is the second interlude which musically depicts the inhuman act (or should I say ‘human act’ as humans have become immune to all these and have learnt to accept everything having lost the ability to question things which violate nature?). In the first segment, I see the first act of ‘cutting’ with the perpetrators going about their job with glee, while in the next segment the trees fall one by one. In the last segment, the trees utter a cry inaudible to insensitive souls.

Nothing can be more appropriate than the lines in the second charaNam-

You are the Temple of ‘ta ka tai/ ta tai’.

Naatya, Sangeetam, Shudhdha Dhanyasi..

Is anybody listening?

Hamlet

 Recently, during a Training Session, there was an interesting debate.

In this age of AGs and Republics(no, not the Donald one, though this one is equally comical!), the word ‘Debate’ has lost its meaning and surely its value. But in spite of being aware of this fact, I have some reasons for calling the Debate we had as ‘interesting’. First of all, the two Teams were standing and not sitting (probably to symbolise the fact that we are after all, ‘outstanding’!). Secondly, unlike the normal debates where the debater presents his case somewhat elaborately, in this debate one had to go, stand, make a point and go back. The person from the rival Team would then go, say a one-liner and go back and so on..

Doesn’t this sound interesting?

But what made this most interesting, was the Topic, which was ‘City life Vs Village life’. The team member had to start his/her sentence with ‘City life/Village life is better because...’ and then put across a point. As you all know, this was more ‘honoured in the breach than in observance’ (long live the Bard of Avon for enriching the language of English J). The main point was forgotten and all other points were ‘put across’. It was ‘Comedy Time’ and yours truly enjoyed every bit of it as he was part of the ‘village group’.

Let us keep this debate aside now and look at the reality. How many of us really care for villages? How many of us genuinely understand the significance of villages? How many of us respect villages?

That ‘how many of us’ is meant more for the people who rule us.. One of the many words which have been misused and abused is the word ‘development’. The very mention of this word should normally gives us positive vibes but it doesn’t. ‘Development’ in the lexicon of the powers that be, is ‘destroying villages’ which in effect means destroying our heart. I am not going to list out anything here, but I am sure it is obvious to all true citizens of the country. But the irony in this is that people who are against ‘Green’ include the word ‘Green’ in the project! Probably it is a kind of cathartic release for such characters whose mind travels not in one lane but in eight lanes!

If villages cease to exist, I am sure music too shall cease to exist. It is because of the reason that music has its roots in villages. If people do not agree with this, they may read my earlier posts on this subject in the same thread. Though one may have divergent views on this, in my opinion, folk music is everlasting and can never be ephemeral.

In fact, the reason for the success of ‘AnnakkiLi’ is the folksy tunes which were lapped up by the Tamizh audience as it came like a whiff of fresh air. As already mentioned in some of my posts earlier in the same thread, it is not correct to say that folk music never existed in Tamizh film songs before ‘AnnakkiLi’. But the difference the album made was that the music sounded more authentic. Most importantly, it was totally different from what people heard until then.

ILaiyaraaja’s folk music in films has never sounded out of place or cacophonic. At the same time, the music was also experimental. He had no misgiving or apprehension in using western instruments in folk songs. On the other hand, he had the courage of conviction. This positive attitude along with his innate musicality made the songs sound so very different and attracted not just the common man but the cognoscenti as well.

The song of the day is just one example. ‘Hey en aasai vazhaikkuruththe’ from ‘Aayiram Vaasal Idayam’(1980) smells like the paddy in the green fields, tastes like the sugar cane juice fresh from the garden and shimmers like the fireflies which hover around the fields in the night.

The song starts with a ‘call and response’. The male chorus ‘calls’ and the female chorus responds after a pause. The silence in between, conveys more than what it conceals. After 2 different ‘calls’ and ‘responses’, the percussion-which is nothing but the ankle bell- enters and backs the ‘thanthaana naa naa na’ of the male chorus with the overlapping female chorus singing different syllables in a different octave. Who said Harmony exists only in Western Music?

It is the turn of the percussion-this time a folk percussion something like ‘thaarai’ to take over. After 8 ‘ta ki ta’s, the drum plays only the first and the third syllable, showing the mind of the composer who thrives on ‘variety’.

Malaysia Vasudevan is in his element and voice sings the Pallavi in a majestic tone with Sasirekha(who for a change, does not sound off-key at all) and Shailaja following suit.

Is it difficult to believe that a sound from a keyboard can give a genuine folksy flavour? Your disbelief will disappear in no time if you listen to the beginning of the first interlude. A mandolin-sounding instrument used ubiquitously by him during the ‘70s, replies to the keyboard with the jalatharangam-sounding instrument pitching in now and then. The chorus enters again, now to the backing of the guitar. It is harmony again with the female chorus singing in higher octave and the male chorus singing in lower octave at the same time. The flute, which appears just briefly, does not fail to make us feel amidst the paddy fields.

The lines in the CharaNams-especially in the second portion- are folksy too and this is not least because of the rendering of Malaysia Vasudevan, the flute and the chorus. Note the use of different sets of percussion and also the change in the pattern!

The way the chorus is made to sing the first segment of the second interlude, the gliding and the sliding of the keyboard, the circumambulating flute and the ‘mandolin’ make us feel rustic and nostalgic as well.

‘We are happy-go-lucky. If you want, you join us, or else leave us alone’, these seem to say musically.

Hope the ‘Development people’ are listening..

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