ILaiyaraaja – The Refulgent Musician

 

What gives us happiness?

What gives us a sense of joy?

What gives us bliss?

I know this is subjective as each one has his/her own list of things, but not many things can equal this.

What is this ‘this’?

It is the sense of gratitude; the sense of being thankful to others and things; the sense of being grateful.

There may be hundred reasons for us to complain. But there are thousand reasons for us to be grateful. When we are thankful for what we have, what we do not have, disappear and become what we have.

Here is an example. The poet says he never had the sense to even worship. His heart was as hard as steel. Yet, he says his heart melted the moment he saw the One which is as sweet as the sugar cane, the One who resides in the place which is surrounded by the bee-humming groves, the place which goes by the name Thiru Arangam. He goes on to say that his eyes rejoice seeing Him and that the bliss can not be described.

 

விரும்பி நின்று ஏத்த மாட்டேன், விதி இலேன் மதி ஒன்று இல்லை

இரும்பு போல் வலிய நெஞ்சம் இறை- இறை உருகும் வண்ணம்

சுரும்பு அமர் சோலை சூழ்ந்த அரங்கமா கோயில் கொண்ட,

கரும்பினைக் கண்டு கொண்டு, என் கண்ணினைக் களிக்குமாறே!

 

If this ThoNdaradippodiyaazhwar finds it difficult to control his extreme amazement, the child prodigy who goes by the name Thirugnasambandhar, goes a step further and says that that ‘gentleman’ whose matted hair has both the river and the crescent moon and who lives in this eternal place called Brahmmapuram, simply stole my heart and I realised it when the beautiful bangles became loose and fell down.

 

நீர் பரந்த நிமிர் புன்சடை மேல் ஓர் நிலா வெண்மதி சூடி

ஏர் பரந்த இன வெள் வரை சோர, என் உள்ளம் கவர் கள்வன்

ஊர் பரந்த “உலகின் முதல் ஆகிய ஓர் ஊர் இது” என்னப்

பேர் பரந்த பிரமாபுரம் மேவிய பெம்மான் இவன் அன்றே.

 

The Lords the two poets address may be different; the wordings may be different; the expression may be different; the mood may be different. But what are common between the two verses are amazement and gratitude.

Amazement gives Gratitude. Gratitude leads to Amazement. And this is a continuous process.

It is an undeniable and ineluctable fact that great music gives us amazement and this in turn leads to gratitude.

Let us take the special song of this special day. When one listens to the composition, one is amazed by the way it sounds. But this is just at the surface level. When one goes deeper, one finds layers after layers and the simple amazement leads to great amazement which leads to the sense of gratitude which in turn gives that bliss.

What is special about ‘NandRi solla veNdum nalla naaLile’ from the movie ‘Chittiraiyil Nila Choru’?

It is based on a raga called Hamsadhwani. Can this fact alone make it special? It is used in its pure and pristine form. So what? Can this make it special?

Rather than answering these directly, let me choose to peel the layers and showcase each layer. Pudding, Eating and Proof. Do I need to say more?

Bubbling with energy and buoyant with joy, two flutes play together. Do they play the same notes? No. Do they play in a similar way? No. Notes from one flute goes in a spiral while the ones from the other flute moves horizontally. If the first mentioned is like a bumble bee, the second mentioned is like a sparrow. If the first one is a trill in western classical music parlance, the second one plays a sustained melody. Even as this is on, the synth guitar sounds the notes of Hamsadhwani with poise and the strings follow with finesse. All these combine together towards the end, to make us visualise a rainbow.

Well, this is just the beginning; that is, surface level.

What then is the next layer?

With the backing of the synth guitar, the female voice renders the Pallavi in Hamsadhwani, a raga with just five swaras- sa ri ga pa ni. We see the different permutations and combinations of this pentatonic raga in the Pallavi itself, which finally ends with the avarohaNa swaras- Sa ni pa/ Sa ni pa.

What is the next layer?

The twin-flute now plays in tandem, defining the two words- soft and supple. The tabla follows. The flutes appear again, but this time playing a different set of notes, that is, different from the previous melody, though both play together. After the sound of the tabla again, the flutes give way to two sets of strings, with one set playing a dominant role and the other set playing second fiddle, literally. With relentless assiduity and incontrovertible melodic power, the guitar continues the interlude backed by synth instruments. The strings and the flute combine again and take us to the CharaNam, not before playing that signature ‘Sa ni pa’.

As if to indicate for the nth time that listening between the lines is always preferable to reading between the lines, the flute appears between the lines rendered by Karthik and Priydarshini in the first segment of the CharaNams. And as if to show that apart from listening between the lines, listening along the lines is good as well, the strings play along the lines in the next segment. The signature ‘Sa ni pa’ appears at the end again even as the percussion takes a break.

Can a pure Carnatic raga have western flavours as well? This indeed is the next layer. The flutes play Hamsadhwani in western classical style with bewitching charm with the cello moving with an unearthly elegance. The strings follow and allure us with their grace and elegance. The guitar plays with sobriety. The strings enter again, but this time blending the East and the West, moving like a clear stream. The notes descend towards the end like the water falls.

Are these the only layers?

Well, we saw only the melodic layers so far. Isn’t it time to see the rhythmic layers?

Before I get into these layers, let me briefly explain the basic rhythmic structures.

Ta ki ta – Three – Tisram.

Ta ka dhi mi – Four – Chatushram.

Ta ka/ ta ki ta – Five – Khandam.

Ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi – Seven- Mishram.

Ta ka dhi mi/ Ta ka ta ki ta – Nine – SankeerNam.

The beats in a song are further sub-divided into micro-beats. For example, a composition set in 4-beats or 8-beats can be subdivided into 16 or 32 or even 64 micro-beats.

This song is set in the simple 8-beat aadi taaLam. Generally, composers divide this as just 4 and 4. But not this Master. He has used different combinations in various songs. But what he has done in this composition is something uncommon, something unique and something extraordinary.

He has divided 16 as – 4/3/5/4.

Now, the first half can be called Mishram but it is the reverse of Mishram and is called vilomam- Ta ka dhi mi/ta ki ta instead of ta ki ta/ta ka dhi mi. The second half is SankeerNam but this is again in the reverse pattern. Though there is vilomam in Mishram, there is no vilomam in SankeerNam as far as I know.

This is not the only layer, though.

The prelude has no percussion absolutely. Nor does the Pallavi when the first line is rendered. The magic starts after this.

The pattern – ta ka dhi mi/ ta ki ta/ ta ka ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi- is sounded by the percussion. But there is magic here as well. Only the first, third, fifth, eighth, tenth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth and the sixteenth are sounded leaving other beats blank. The blanks are called ‘ kaaravais’ in Carnatic music parlance.

In the first interlude, there is no percussion when the first melody is played. It is only the percussion then and this time it sounds ‘ta ki ta/ ta ka ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi’, and not the pattern played in the Pallavi. This happens twice after which the melodic instruments and the percussion join together.

However, when the guitar plays, the percussion sounds ta ka dhi mi four times, another variation.

The CharaNams follow the unique pattern again.

But again, the first part of the second interlude which sees the western contours, has no percussion. The second segment has the percussion but it is again plain ‘ta ka dhi mi’. For a change, it is played by the western percussion and not the Tabla.

The variation in the pattern is not in percussion alone. It is seen in the lines in the CharaNams as well. One sees – Ta ki ta/Ta ki ta/ Ta ki ta/Ta ka dhi mi- in the middle part of the CharaNams.

How many layers did you count?

Well, even I have lost count.

Amazement and Gratitude- Are these Countable or Uncountable?

Ask ThoNdaradippodiyaazhwar.. Ask Gnanasambandhar.. Ask Gnanadesikan..

If none of this is possible, just listen to the song!

PS: This post and the previous one in Tamizh were written exclusively for Geetanjali - 2025 and were read out to an invited audience in Chennai on the 31st of August, 2025.

இளையராஜா - கனிந்த, கணித, கணித்த, இசை வல்லுனர்

 

ஒன்றவன் தானே இரண்டவன் இன்னருள்

நின்றனன் மூன்றினுள் நான்கு உணர்ந்தான் ஐந்து

வென்றனன் ஆறு விரிந்தனன் ஏழும்பர்ச்

சென்றனன் தான் இருந்தான் உணர்ந்தெட்டே.

 

பத்தினோடு பத்துமாய் ஓர் ஏழினோடு ஒன்பதாய்,

பத்து நால் திசைக்கண் நின்ற நாடு பெற்ற நன்மையாய்,

பத்தின் ஆய தோற்றமோடு ஓர் ஆற்றல் மிக்க ஆதிபால்,

பத்தராம் அவர்க்கு அலாது, முத்தி முற்றல் ஆகுமே?

இது என்ன?

ஒன்று, இரண்டு, மூன்று… என்று எண்ண சொல்லித் தரும் கணக்கு வகுப்பா? இதற்கும் இசைக்கும் என்ன தொடர்பு? விளக்கம் கூறுவதற்கு முன், இந்தப் பாடல்கள் தெரிவிக்கும் செய்தி என்ன என்பதைப் பார்ப்போம்.

இறைவன் ஒருவனே. அசையா சக்தியாகிய அவனிடமிருந்து அசையும் சக்தியாகிய அருள் வெளிப்படுகிறது. அவனே, படைத்தல், காத்தல், அழித்தல் என்ற மூன்று செய்கைகளையும் செய்கின்றான். நான் கு வேதங்களிலும் அவனே நிற்கின்றான். ஐந்து பூதங்களும் அவனே. மூலாதாரம், ஸ்வாதிஷ்டானம், மணிபூரகம், அனாகதம், விஷுத்தம், ஆஞ்ஞை ஆகிய ஆறு சக்கரங்களாக மனித உடலில் இருக்கின்றான். யோக சக்தியின் மூலம் குண்டலினியை எழுப்பி, ஏழாவது சக்கரமாகிய சஹஸ்ரார சக்கரத்தையும் தாண்டி, சூனியத்தில் நிலைத்திருக்கின்றான். ஐம்பூதங்கள், ஆதவன், நிலவு மற்றும் உயிர், என எட்டிலும் நிறைந்துள்ளான். இவற்றை உணர்ந்து, அவனை எட்டுவதே வாழ்வின் நோக்கம்.

இது முதலாவது செய்யுளின் பொருள்.

பத்து திசைகளுக்கும், பத்து திசைகளைக் காவல் காப்பவர்களுக்கும், அவனே தலைவன். ஏழு ஸ்வரங்கள், ஒன்பது ரசங்கள், இவற்றுக்கு அடிப்படையானவன். பதினான்கு உலகத்தார் காண, பத்து அவதாரங்களை எடுத்தான். அவன் மீது முழு நம்பிக்கை வைத்திருப்பவர்கள் அல்லாத மற்றவர்களுக்கு மோக்ஷம் என்பது கிடைக்கவும் சாத்தியமா?

இது இரண்டாவது செய்யுளின் பொருள்.

தனது ஞானத்தின் மூலம் மூலத்தை அறிந்து, மூலப்பொருளைத் தனது தமிழ்ப் புலமை மூலம் உலகிற்குக் காட்டிய திருமூலரும், எத்திக்கும் தித்திக்கும் தமிழ் என்னும் அமுதை, தாள லயத்துடன்  பாடல்களில் குழைத்து, இன்னும் தித்திக்க வைத்து திருமழிசை என்னும் ஊரில் வாழ்ந்த திருமழிசையாழ்வாரும், எண்களை வைத்து  நமது எண்ணங்களை ஆட்கொண்டதன் நோக்கம்?

எண்கள் நமது வாழ்வின் அடிப்படை என்பதை உணர்த்துவதற்காகத் தான். எண்கள், நமது வாழ்வில் பின்னிப் பிணைந்திருப்பதை நாம் அறிய வேண்டும் என்பதற்காகத்தான். எண்களும் , பரம்பொருளும் வேறு வேறு இல்லை என்ற உண்மையை நாம் உணர வேண்டும் என்பதற்காகத்தான்.

எண்கள் இல்லாமல் இசை இல்லை, பாடல்களின் பின்புலமாக இயங்கும் ஸ்வரங்கள் ஏழு. இவையே இசையின் அடிப்படை. என்றாலும், நேரிடையாகவும், மறைமுகமாகவும் எண்கள் தோன்றுவது தாளம் என்ற அமைப்பில்தான்.

கட்டுக்கோப்பான இந்த எண்களை தனது கட்டுப்பாட்டில் கொண்டு வந்து, அந்தக் கட்டுக்கோப்பை உடைப்பது போல் உடைத்து, பின்னர் உடனே கட்டுக்கோப்பாக க் கொண்டு வருபவர்கள் வித்தகர்கள். இளையராஜா என்னும் மாபெரும் கலைஞர், இந்த வித்தகர் வரிசையில் முதல் வரிசையில் இருப்பவர். பல்லாயிரக் கணக்கான பாடல்களில், தனது விளையாட்டை அவர் காட்டியிருந்தாலும், இன்று நாம் காண இருக்கும் பாடலில் அவர் செய்திருக்கும் கை வண்ணம், உயர்வண்ணம்; நமது கால்களையும் கட்டிப் போடும் கால் வண்ணம்.

இந்த வண்ணத்தின் அழகை ரசிப்பதற்கு முன்பாக, அடிப்படை தாளங்களைப் பற்றி மிகவும் சுருக்கமாகக் கவனிப்போம்.

த க – என்பது இரண்டு.

த கி ட – என்பது மூன்று. இது திஸ்ரம் என்ற பெயரில் அறியப்படுகிறது.

த க தி மி – நான் கு- இது சதுரஷ்ரம் அல்லது சதுஷ்ரம்.

த க த கி ட -ஐந்து – கண்டம்.

த கி ட த க தி மி – ஏழு – மிஷ்ரம்.

த க தி மி த க த கி ட – சங்கீர்ணம்.

பாடல்களில் இதனை இன்னும் சுருக்கி, பெருக்கலாம். அதாவது, தாளம் போடும் இசைக்கருவியின் வேகத்தை அதிகமாக்கினால், எண்ணிக்கையும் அதிகமாகும். நான்கு, எட்டாகலாம், பதினாறாகலாம், முப்பத்து இரண்டாகலாம்.

இப்பொழுது பாடலுக்குச் செல்வோம்.

2011 ஆம் ஆண்டு வெளியான ‘சித்திரையில் நிலாச் சோறு’ என்ற திரைப்படத்தில் இடம் பெற்ற ‘நன்றி சொல்ல வேண்டும் நல்ல நாளிலே’ என்ற பாடலே இன்றைய சிறப்புப் பாடல். கைவண்ணத்தையும் , கால்வண்ணத்தையும் சேர்த்து நமது எண்ணத்தை வண்ணமாக்கும் பாடல்.

எட்டு துடிப்புகளைக் கொண்ட ஆதி தாளம் என்னும் மிக அடிப்படையான தாளத்தில் அமைந்துள்ளது இப்பாடல். தாள வாத்தியம் எதுவும் இல்லாமல், இன்னிசை வாத்தியங்கள் மட்டுமே ஒலிக்கின்றன முகப்பு இசையில்.

மூன்று சுழற்சிகளுக்குப் பிறகு பெண் குரலில் தொடங்குகிறது பல்லவி. முதல் சுழற்சியிலும் தாள வாத்தியம் எதுவும் இல்லை. பிறகு நடக்கிறது மாயாஜாலம். சற்று முன் கூறியபடி, எட்டு பதினாறாக உடைக்கப்படுகிறது. பொதுவாக மற்றவர்கள், இந்தப் பதினாறையும் நமக்கு ஏன் வம்பு என நான்கு நான்காகவே பிரித்து விடுவார்கள். ஆனால், எதையும் வித்தியாசமாகச் செய்ய வேண்டும் என்ற குறிக்கோளுடன் செயல்படும், இந்த லய ராஜா, பெரும்பாலான பாடல்களில் வெவ்வேறு வகையாகப் பிரிப்பார். எனினும், இந்தப் பாடலில் அவர் செய்திருப்பது வியப்புக்குறிய வித்தியாசம்.

தாள வாத்தியத்தை  த க தி மி/த கி ட/ த க த கி ட/ த க தி மி – அதாவது 1 2 3 4/ 1 2 3/ 1 2 3 4 5/ 1 2 3 4- என்று பிரிக்கிறார். இதில் முதலாவது பாதியினை மிஷ்ரம் என்று கொள்ளலாம், இரண்டாவது பாதியினை சங்கீர்ணம் என்று கொள்ளலாம். இதிலும், ஒரு விஷயம் அடங்கியிருக்கிறது. மிஷ்ரம் என்பது த கி ட/ த க தி மி என்று முன்பே குறிப்பிட்டேன். இதனை த க தி மி /த கி ட என்று மாற்றினால், அதற்கு விலோமம் என்று பெயர். எனினும் சங்கீர்ணத்தில் விலோமம் என்பது எனக்குத் தெரிந்த வரையில் இல்லை. புதுமை எனது பதுமை என்று இயங்குபவர்களுக்கு எதுவும் சாத்தியமே.

முதலாவது இடையிசையில் இந்த அமைப்பை த கி ட / த க த கி ட/ த க தி மி/ த க தி மி, என்று மாற்றுவதையும், இரண்டாவது இடையிசையில் பெரும்பாலான பகுதியில் தாள வாத்தியமே இல்லாமல் செய்வதையும், பிறகு மேற்கத்திய தாள வாத்தியமாகிய ட்ரம்ஸ் த க தி மி என்று நான்கு நான் காகச் செல்வதையும் , அழகுணர்ச்சியுடன் விவரிக்க கம்பனோ, கண்ணதாசனோ வேண்டும். நான் வெறும் இசை தாசன் மட்டும் தானே?

தாள கதியினைப் பற்றி மட்டும் விலாவாரியாகப் பேசியதால், இதில் ராகம் இல்லை என்று கருத வேண்டாம். மங்களகரமான ராகம் என்று போற்றப்படும் ஹம்சத்வனி என்ற ராகத்தில் அமைந்துள்ளது இந்தப் பாடல்.

இரண்டு குழல்கள் தனித்தனி இசைக்கோர்ப்பை சேர்ந்து இசைக்க, இணைப்பாக்கி எனப்படும் சிந்தசைசர் கிடார் ஒலியினையும், தொடர்ந்து வயலின் குழு ஒலியினையும் கொடுக்க, குழல்களும் தொடர்ந்து இசைக்க, ப்ரியதர்ஷினியின் குரலில் தொடங்குகிறது பல்லவி.இணைப்பாகிகள் அவ்வப்பொழுது குரலுடன் இணைய, பல்லவி தொடர்கிறது.

குழல்களும் ஜால்ராவும் , வயலின்களும் புடை சூழ, கிடார், ஹம்சத்வனியை அள்ளித் தருகிறது.

‘ நானும் வள்ளல்தான், இசை வள்ளல்தான் ’ என குழல், குரல்களுக்கு இடையில் கூவுகின்றது சரணத்தில்.

அதே வேகத்தில் இரண்டாவது இடையிசையில் குழல் குழு சற்றே வித்தியாசமாக தொடர்ந்து இசைக்க, செல்லோ என்னும் இசைக்கருவி சேர்ந்து கொள்ள, ஹம்சத்வனி மேற்கத்திய ஆடை அணிந்து நடனமாடுகிறது. இணைப்பாக்கி கிடாரும், வயலின்களும் தொடர்ந்து, ஹம்சத்வனியின் வேறு பரிமாணங்களைக் காட்டுகின்றன. இறுதியாக வயலின் கள் ‘ஸா நி ப ம க’ என்ற அவரோஹணத்தை இசைக்கின்றன.

அவரோஹணம்/ஆரோஹணம், திஸ்ரம், சதுஷ்ரம்,கண்டம், மிஷ்ரம், சங்கீர்ணம், விலோமம்..

ஒன்று, இரண்டு, மூன்று, நான்கு, ஐந்து..

இவை எண்களா? எண்ணங்களா? வண்ணங்களா?

எண்ணும் எழுத்தும் கண்ணெனத் தகும்.

பி.கு : இந்தப் பதிவு 'கீதாஞ்சலி' என்னும் நிகழ்வை ஒட்டி எழுதப்பட்டு, நிகழ்வின் பொழுது, ப்ரத்தியேகமாக அழைக்கப்பட்ட சில ராஜா ரசிகர்களுக்காக வாசிக்கப்பட்டது. நிகழ்வு நடந்தா நாள் - ஆகஸ்ட் 31. 

 

ILaiyaraaja – The Seraphic Musician

What is Meditation?

Is it closing our eyes and chanting something repeatedly?

Is it focussing on an object with our eyes open?

Is it staring at the light?

Is it just focussing on our breath?

Well, it is all these and something much more. The fact of the matter is – Meditation or the state of Meditation can only be experienced and can hardly be explained, however great the person’s vocabulary is.

Suffice to say that people experience inner calm and tranquility and at the same time feeling energetic. Potential Energy and Kinetic Energy, in action at the same time.

There is something beyond Meditation and this is called the Samadhi state. Not many can experience this state and not many have experienced this state. Transcending the duality of the matter and the mind, the body and the mind, the existence and non-existence, it is an experience of oneness and the ultimate bliss. Some rishis in the past and some saints in the present ( more recent, though this is subjective!) have experienced this state. As far as I know, RamaNa Maharishi experienced it, going by the writings about him and the kind of experience I get when I visit his Ashram.

There was one more person, who I feel must have definitely experienced this. And that is, AruNagirinathar.

How do I know?

Not an easy question to answer and just like how one cannot define a Meditative state, this too cannot be explained. But having read many of his verses under different works, it is just my feeling and at times, I go by what I feel because of my percipience.

Let me quote just one of his verses- though there are many- to tell you all why I feel what I feel:

 

ஆனா அமுதே! அயில் வேல் அரசே!

ஞானாகரனே! நவிலத் தகுமோ

யானாகிய என்னை விழுங்கி வெறும்

தானாய் நிலை நின்றது தற்பரமே?

Raja4376 · Aana amude

In short, he says – Oh the one who is holding the Vel! The one who is the nectar!! Explain that state where I forget the ‘I’ and be one with You.

This is verse no.28 in that work called ‘Kandar Anuboodhi’.

Does he stop with this?

See this now:

குறியைக் குறியாது குறித்து அறியும்

நெறியைத் தனி வேலை நிகழ்த்திடலும்

செறிவற்று உலகோடு உரை சிந்தையும் அற்று

அறிவற்று அறியாமையும் அற்றதுவே!

Raja4376 · KuRiyai KuRiyadu

I forgot my relations, my mind, my speech, my knowledge and my ignorance the moment He taught me the right way to meditate and this is pure bliss.

This is verse no.42.

If you are insightful, you will make the connection between the two. If I were to describe it, I would just stop with saying ‘Esoteric’.

AruNagiri experienced that bliss, that eternal light.

We mortals too, can experience something close to it, depending on how wise we are. Take the song ‘AruNa KiraNa Deepam’ from ‘Guru’ (1997). Whenever I listen to it, I experience something different; something unique; something divine; something esoteric.

The composition based on KeeravaNi (or Harmonic minor) and is set in Mishram. These details are not as important as the way these are applied. For a change, let me take up each aspect and then go on to the main subject.

Laya:

I said it is set in Mishram ( 7 beat- cycle). But the prelude goes plainly in 4, with the brass flute and the horns even playing 1 2 3 4 after a while. The percussion which appear much later (0.58) play in 4. It is only when the chorus starts (1.23) that it shifts to Mishram.

The percussion sounds 1, 4 and 6 (ta, ta, dhi) in the 7-beat cycle. After two cycles, the strings join in and play 1 2 3 4 5 6/1 2 3 4/ 1 2 3 4( ta ka dhi mi ta ka/ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi).

The Pallavi in the voice of Yesudas too follows the same pattern – Aruna ( 1 2 3 ) KiraNa ( 1 2 3 ) Deepam ( 1 2 3 4) Paaba ( 1 2 3 4). Let it be understood that Mishram in ‘mel kaalam’(faster mode) is 7x2.

The first interlude follows the same pattern, though the percussion takes a break. The group of violins that appears in between sounds ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi, so obviously that one forgets if these are melodious instruments or percussive instruments ( melodious percussive, probably). The most beautiful part occurs towards the end of the interlude when an instrument plays a sustained melody subtly for 2 cycles.

Meditative?

The percussion appears only in the second part of the first interlude. It takes a break again for a while when the chorus renders the wordings and appears again albeit subtly and gradually after that.

It is the bells that sound the taaLam in the first segment of the second interlude.

KeeravaNi/Harmonic minor :

The western contours are felt almost throughout with a host of instruments, but the Indian counterpart (though this may not be an ideal term) is felt in the Pallavi, in the middle part of the first interlude. The ‘akaaram’ of Yesudas in the CharaNams, speaks for itself. But the O. Henry Raaja does it again. The beginning of the first interlude goes to Saaranga TarangiNi, a raga which has no connection or relation with KeeravaNi. This continues for about 20 seconds until the horns take it back to Harmonic minor(KeeravaNi).

It happens again in the second interlude but this time, it changes to the Major scale (4.15) and continues in this scale with the brass flute and horns in full flow. The chorus too hums in the same scale and just before it completes the humming (4.41), it goes back to the minor scale.

Orchestration:

There is a kind of an eerie beginning with a single instrument sounding like a clock and a host of instruments sounding suddenly with a bang. But it is that silence (0.29- 0.33) which makes a difference. After all, isn’t silence musical and meditative?

The strings sound soft and soothing while the brass flute moves with a flourish. The oboe which takes over is bewitching and when juxtaposed with the flute, the experience is exhilarating. The strings then move with a purpose after the chorus and this could be because of the backing of the rhythm in Mishram.

The brass flute after the first few phrases are rendered by Yesudas, is alluring and at the same time graceful. When Chitra renders the lines, the subtle strings and double bass, back her voice while the horns sound with assiduity when the chorus sings ‘Brahmma Naadam..’, which itself is like a crescendo.

The tantalising melody of the oboe is complemented by the supple strings. The oboe and flute vivify the atmosphere before the leitmotif appears.

The lines in the CharaNams are backed by the very subtle strings, in line with the mood.

If the bells sound with a sense of uncanniness, the flute moves with finesse sketching something in the process. Like a karma yogi, the two sets of strings move in a linear way with the oboe just nodding its head. It is that flute which plays along with the chorus, bending, meandering, and straddling the octaves, which leads us to something.

Is it a diffused glow?

Is it the eternal light?

Is it that state of Samadhi?

AruNagiri and AruNa Kirana Deepam will probably give an answer.

 

ILaiyaraaja – The Free-spirited Musican

 

Independent thinking!

How relevant is this in the age of even intelligence being artificial and people going gaga for such intelligence?

More than being very relevant, I would say it is very essential now as people are quickly losing their ability to think on their own, with creativity itself is becoming just a word in the dictionary and is in the danger of being wiped out even from the dictionary! People being ‘influenced’ by some self-declared experts and by the machines, is not a trend which can be called healthy.

This is where one is forced to go back to our literature and arts where we find different works shimmering with unique beauty and different poets and artistes laying new paths and treading unchartered territories. AruNagirinaathar was one such poet.

With a questionable background and a very questionable personal life, this gentleman transformed into a poet who set the tone for a new format which throbbed with rhythms which were new and until then were unthinkable. Author of many works that include Kandar Anubhuti/Andaadi/Alankaraam, Vel/Mayil Viruththam and so on, he is mainly known for ‘Thiruppugazh’. The last mentioned has 8 cantos (which itself was not new in Indian literature with somebody by name Jayadeva already having composed Ashtapadi at least 3 centuries before AruNagiri) with each composition following a particular rhythm, most of which not being part of the classical music taaLas.

The beauty does not stop just here. Thiruppugazh also has layers of meanings, esoteric as well as mundane.

This one is an example: 

ஆறும் ஆறும் அஞ்சும் அஞ்சும் ஆறும் ஆறும் அஞ்சும் அஞ்சும்

ஆறும் ஆறும் அஞ்சும் அஞ்சும் அறுநாலும்

ஆறும் ஆய சஞ்சலங்கள் வேறதா விளங்குகின்ற

ஆரணாகமம் கடந்த கலையான

ஈறு கூறரும் பெரும் சுவாமியாய் இருந்த நன்றி

ஏது வேறு இயம்பலின்றி  ஒருதானாய்

யாவுமாய் மனம் கடந்த மோன வீடு அடைந்து ஒருங்கி

யான் அவா அடங்க என்று பெறுவேனோ

மாறு கூறி வந்து எதிர்ந்த சூரர் சேனை மங்க வங்க

வாரி வேல் வெகுண்ட சண்ட விததாரை

வாகை வேல கொன்றை தும்பை மாலை கூவிளம் கொழுந்து

வால சோமன் நஞ்சு பொங்கு பகுவாய

சீறு மாசணம் கரந்த ஆறு வேணி கொண்ட நம்பர்

தேசிகா கடம்பு அலங்கல் புனைவோனே

தேவர் யாவரும் திரண்டு பாரின் மீது வந்து இறைஞ்சு

தேவனூர்  விளங்க வந்த பெருமாளே!

This rather long poem mentions the numbers in the first 3 lines and these numbers when totalled give 96, which are the 36 paratatvaas, 35 other tatvaas, 5 elements, 10 naadis, 10 karmaas, 5 ahankaaraas, 3 guNas, and 3 kinds of Vaak. Since these are too deep, explaining these will take reams and most importantly, is out of scope of our present discussion.

However, what he says in this entire song can be summarised as – ‘He (Muruga) is the One who is beyond all these and beyond description and when will I be able to reach that state of silence and emptiness reining in my desires?’

He also goes on to mention His annihilation of Surapadma and his armies and after describing Shiva as the One adorned with different garlands, moon, the poisonous snake and the ashes, he says ‘You are His Master’.

The choice of words and most importantly the contrasts, make this a poetic beauty. But beyond all this, it is the rhythmic metre – 2,2,2,2,3,3,2,2,3,3,4 - which sits like a diamond on the gleaming crown, mesmerising us readers with an alluring glow!

Since readers who follow my writings, by now would have guessed as to who I am going to bring in now, I am not even going to mention the name now. You all also know as to the kind of experiments he has done in film music, which in a way is beyond comprehension for many.

This composition I am taking up today is rather old. I say ‘old’ because it is a very popular hit and is known to many unlike many compositions I normally write about. In fact, there have been efforts to explain the technique in this composition on the internet, but I am not sure as to how many have really succeeded in bringing out the intricacies. In any case, let me try and explain the concept in my own way.

Any composition follows a rhythmic pattern. Most film songs follow the 4-beat structure – called ‘chatushram’ in Carnatic Music and 4/8 in film music. Some follow the 3-beat structure (Tisram), a few, the 7-beat structure (Mishram) and a few, the 5-beat structure ( Khandam). There is also the 6-beat structure (Rupakam) but since the number of beats is double that of Tisram, most of the songs that follow this structure can also be classified under Tisram.

But ‘Aagaaya VeNNilaave’ (ArangetRa VeLai – 1990), is an exception.

Let us start from the beginning. Yesudas renders the entire line with Uma Ramanan rendering the following line. Note that the vocals do not have any percussion support. However, if one were to count, both lines have 8 counts exactly. So, is it going to follow the 8-beat cycle or simply the 4-beat cycle?

The guitar follows but now with the backing of the percussion. It is obvious that this entire segment follows the 4-beat cycle. Simple, isn’t it?

But with O. Henry Raaja, you must always expect the unexpected. Just towards the end, the melodic instrument sounds ‘1 2 3 4’ thrice. Is it a prelude to something else?

We get an answer almost instantly. Yesudas (and then Uma Ramanan) start singing and the vocals do not seem to follow the ‘4-beat’ pattern. It clearly follows the 6-beat pattern. But then, what does the percussion do? Rather than sounding the 6 beats, these sound the 4 beats.

How?

Take the first two phrases – Aagaaya VeNNilaave. As I said, it is – 1 2 3 4 5 6. However, the percussion sound 1 2 3 4 thrice during the same time.

Can 6 equal 12?

This is where the genius comes into play. While the 6 beats are sounded in the slow tempo- called ‘Keezh kaalam’- the three 4s are sounded in a tempo which is two times faster than that of the vocals. And that is how 6 equals 12.

Here too, the Tabla plays ‘1 – 3  4/ - - 3  4/ 1 – 3  4’ leaving those gaps called ‘kaarvai’ to make the puzzle more interesting.

The interludes follow the 1 2 3 4 pattern like a disciplined army of soldiers. In the first interlude, the solo-violin plays with a touch of poignancy with the group of violins joining in playing a counter melody. A close observation suggests two things. One, there is no percussion for a while. Two, the counter melody of the group says, or rather sings – 1 2 3 4.

The strings move like the breeze in the next segment with yet another set joining in and playing a counter melody. The end of the interlude is interesting yet again with the melodic instruments sounding 1 2 3 4 four times, with an ostentatious smile!

Why have I not spoken about the raga yet?

It is because a composition goes beyond just the name of the raga- as I have said ad nauseam- and also because the focus in this composition is on the rhythm.

But that does not mean that melody has little role to play here. It is loosely based on Darbaari Kaanada scale with a dash of alien notes in the CharaNams.

The sudden surge of the higher-octave notes – Sa Ri Ga Sa- in the second half of the Pallavi (Malar soodum/ URavaadum) gives it an impetus. The beauty is that the same melody is repeated in the last two lines of the CharaNams.

The sudden entry of the alien swara (chatushruti dhaivatam) in the fifth and the sixth line, gives it a new complexion. So does the ‘niRiSaRi’ prayoga towards the end of these lines.

The melodic instrument in the beginning of the second interlude sounds ‘1 2 3/ 1 2 3/ 1 2’ twice before the guitar and the tabla join. But as if it is under a spell, it continues subtly in the background during the guitar segment. The two sets of strings take over, each playing an independent melody albeit in different octaves.

The strings sound ‘ 1 – 3  4/ 1 – 3  4 with the brass flute responding with ‘1 2 3 4/ 1 – 3  4’.

Do these say we are unique and different?

Or do these say ‘We lay our own path?’

It is for you to interpret or decode!

 

 

 

Raja4376 · Thiruppugazh recitation

ILaiyaraaja – The Breezy Musician

 

Wind is poetic. Wind is musical.

Isn’t that the reason for many poets describing the wind, using similes, keeping wind as a metaphor and even symbolising wind as an ambassador?

Before I go to the second element which finds a mention in the first line, let me briefly delve into the first element. Tamizh grammar gives different names to the same wind depending on the direction from which it blows. As per literature(and as per one’s experience as well), the quality of the wind varies and is purely dependent on the direction. Concomitantly, our feelings and emotions too vary. As an example, the wind blowing from the south is ‘thendRal’ and is supposed to be very pleasant. On the other hand, the one blowing from the north- vaadai- is supposed to evoke the feeling of viraha (separation).

Would you believe me if I said that an entire piece of work in literature revolves around the wind, the one from the north to be precise? Viraha, which is the quality of vaadai, runs as the undercurrent in Nedunalvaadai, which is part of the Sangam literature. Composed by Nakkeerar, it is in praise of Thalaiyaalangaanaththu cheruvendRa paaNdiyan Nedunchezhiyan. Unlike many other works, the hero appears only towards the end and even this is brief as the verses here talk about his visit to the camp to see the warriors who fought for him in the war. Pregnant with descriptions about nature, the palace and the cot for most part, this work is on the viraha feelings of the queen who misses her husband and leaning on the ivory cot with tears in her eyes, listens to the prayers to Goddess KotRavai.

Did I not mention that viraha runs as the undercurrent? It actually runs subtly even in the description of nature. One has to read between the lines to comprehend, grasp, understand and appreciate this fact. What I am giving below is just a sample and these three lines appear almost towards the end of the work.

வடந்தைத் தண் வளி எறிதொறும் நுடங்கித்

தெற்கு ஏர்பு இறைஞ்சிய தலைய நன் பல

பாண்டில் விளக்கில் பரூஉச்சுடர்  அழல.

The cold wind from the north blew and whenever it blew, the thick flame in the round lamps, swayed and tilted towards the south.

Pretty simple, right? North to south. It is logical, scientific and natural. What is great about this?

Anyone who loves just the surface and wants to stay only there, is bound to ask this.

But people who hate the word ‘superficial’, will say these:

But scratch the surface; go beyond that.

Don’t read just the lines; read between the lines as well.

Always aim to see the unseen.

If we follow the latter, we can discover a gold mine. The Queen’s location(no GPS those days!) is to the south of the place of war. By saying that the vaadai was blowing, the poet first touches upon the viraha. He goes a step further and rather than saying that the lamps went off(which is what happens when the wind blows), he says the flame just tilted towards the south, indicating that there is a happy ending and that the king will return to his palace after emerging victorious in the war. The flame can also be considered as a symbol for the queen, with the vaadai being the emotion.

This is what the wind does to the imagination and creativity of poets.

Doesn’t the same happen in case of music and therefore with musicians as well?

That we cannot hear music in the absence of wind, is too well known a fact to be even mentioned. But the fact that some geniuses have used the different types of wind, musically is something which is known and yet has to be mentioned.

Here is a naayika, besotted completely with her lover and finds music as a form of expressing her desire and yes, viraha. The genius that he is, ILaiyaraaja uses a classical raga known more to invoke the feeling of devotion and certainly not associated with romance, unlike pentatonic ragas or even complete ragas like KalyaNi.

The raga Simhendramadhyamam is deep and unlike its Shuddha Madhyama counterpart KiravaNi, is not universal. It does take a lot of gumption to use this raga in a romantic set up. He has done this before as well in ‘Aananda Ragam’, a song I discussed here four years ago (ILaiyaraaja – The Prudent Musican- 14^th April 2019) . But this one is different, in fact it is a study in contrast.

If ‘Ananda Ragam’ is racy like the wind from the north, ‘Thaalaattum PoongaatRu Naanallava’ (Gopura Vaasalile- 1991) is like the wind from sea, soothing and yet deep with a degree of heat present innately.

The initial humming of Janaki is like the Kacchaan(wind from the west), soft, quiet and mild. In a matter of seconds, one sees the sketch of the raga. With the santoor interjecting with grace, the small flute moves elegantly. Two other flutes take over and play simultaneously with panache, one in higher-octave and the other in lower-octave, thus showing the contrasting emotions- joy and viraha. Like the wind which go up and down during the rain, the keys sound the ascending and the descending notes of the raga.

The Pallavi (vocals: Janaki) too has the ascending(rigamapa) and the descending swaras (magarisani.) in the first two phrases of the last two lines(oh nenjame/en nenjame).The third line (varuvaayo/ vaarayo) exudes with viraha with some closely packed swaras (padhamapagamapaga) in vaayo and raayo.

The strings in the beginning of the first interlude, move with ferocity like the KundRavaadai (wind from the North- East). Meanwhile, the flute moves with vibrancy like the Karunkondal (South-East) with the guitar passing like the cross wind, in between. One sees the two layers of the wind in the two sets of strings. While one is boisterous and vivacious, the other is delicate and subtle. The santoor and the keys sway like the branches of the trees.

The flute continues its wave of enthusiasm in the CharaNams as well, showing up between the lines again in ascending and descending fashion alternately. One also sees the sudden upward movement of the wind towards the end of the CharaNam with the penultimate line showing a steady climb to start with (sariga), a descent(risasa), a sudden jump(from the lower sa straight to the upper Sa), a slight descent(SaniniSa) and then an intense descent in the higher-octave (GaRisa). The last line is a mix of ascent and descent just like the wind blowing in the mountains.

Vaadaikachchaan (South-East) meets Kacchankodai (South-West) in the first half of the second interlude. This is how one can describe the flute melody and the santoor melody. If the former is plaintive and deep, the latter is jubilant and gentle. So captivating is this spectacle which is full of contrasts that even the percussion stops playing, absorbing itself in the beauty. Two sets of strings go in tandem, one in lower-octave and the other in higher-octave and this seems like the meeting of Vaadai and ThendRal.

Wind is poetic; Wind is musical..

..just like Life!  

ILaiyaraaja – The Quick-witted Musician

 

What defines a great piece of work?

It should pierce the heart straight, prise it open, go further deep, search for the soul and stir it!

To a certain extent, this can be called subjective as appreciation- and therefore the experience- varies from person to person. But beyond a point subjectivity and objectivity merge and this depends purely on the conditioning, the upbringing and the exposure to great works, which help the person separate the wheat from the chaff.

As an example, look at the following verse:

தலை மேல தாள்- இணைகள் தாமரைக் கண் என் அம்மான்

நிலைபேரான் என் நெஞ்சத்து, எப்பொழுதும் எம் பெருமான்,

மலை மாட த்து அரவு-அணைமேல் வாட்டாற்றான், மதமிக்க

கொலை யானை மருப்பு ஒசித்தான், குரை கழல்கள் குறுகினமே.

 

The great poet Nammaazhwar describes the Lord at a place called Thiruvattaru. Considered to be the longest Vishnu idol in the country, with a length of 22 feet, the idol also follows the katu-sarakara-yogam, an ancient method of idol-making following very strict norms, in terms of the material, the admixture of river sands, the paste and so on. Most importantly, the idol at that temple is made of 16,008 shAligrAmas, a feat which is monumental. Just for information, a shAligraama is found on the banks of Gandaki river in Nepal and supposedly bears symbols associated with Vishnu naturally without any human intervention.

The great poet who was an erudite scholar. composed the verse(in fact, there are 11 verses composed on this deity and these are part of ThiruvAimozhi which in turn is part of the Naalayira Divya Prabandham!) in keeping with the esoteric elements in the idol.

The meaning of the verse goes something like this:

The lotus feet are on my head; the lotus-eyed one will never leave my heart. He is the One who reclines on the snake at this place which has huge buildings like mountains, the One who broke the tusk of the elephant which had gone mad. I worship his feat.

On the face of it, this looks like a normal verse which extols the virtues of the Lord. But scratch the surface and you will experience a scimitar breaking open your heart.

First and foremost, it talks about strength by talking about the fight with the elephant. Recall that the idol is made of 16,008 small stones bound by thick pastes.

Next, it talks about the lotus feet and the lotus eyes. Beautiful contrast- strength and softness!

Now, lotus is also the mind, symbolically. Mad elephant is the symbol of bad thoughts. Contrasts of course, but it suggests that to take bad thoughts away from your mind, you need to meditate. But the clincher is the connection between the first and the last line- His feet on my head and I surrender to His feet.

Life cycle- Starts with feet and ends with feet.

Visishtasdwaita philosophy in a nut shell!

Read the verse again and you will know why I said it will pierce one’s heart. Perhaps you might end up discovering more too in the process. After all, experience is subjective- or is it?

One gets a similar experience while listening to music in general and ILaiyaraaja’s music in particular. Raaga Deepam YetRum Neram from PayaNangaL Mudivathillai(1982) is a classic example.

In fact, it is a classical example too as it is purely based on a classical raga called Hamsaanandi. This popular raga is a shaadava raga with 6 swaras in the arohaNa and avarohaNa. The reason for my saying that this pierces the heart has to do not only with the tune and the orchestration but also with a hidden magic. This magic is too subtle and yet very powerful. We shall see this as we go along.

One should also understand the background. As per the sequence in the movie, an aspiring singer gets an opportunity to sing in a temple and as he starts singing, clouds gather and the crowd disperse. He does not give up and continues singing and the clouds relent by moving away. The crowd is back and that is the beginning. A beginning in terms of his career as a singer.

The composition starts with the akaaram of SPB. What starts as a free flowing akaaram starts following the chatushram pattern as the percussion joins. The akaaram itself is vibrant and vivacious, drawing the sketch of Hamsaanandi in a matter of seconds. The strings move in higher-octave with a ferocity matching the intensity of the rain.

The first line is conceived meaningfully. It starts with the descending notes and then goes to the ascending notes, indicating the travails of the aspiring singer in particular and also of any human in general. In fact, it defines Life itself.

The lines that follow touches the higher-octave swaras like the upper Sa, Ri and Ga, making it a plaintive cry.

The jalatarangam and the tabla tarang move with a sprightly gait in the beginning of the first interlude, perhaps to show the momentum- the rain and the fluttering of the singer’s heart – contrasting elements. The strings play a flood of melody in Hamsaanandi while the flute depicts the angst of the singer by sliding and gliding. The sitar which responds to the flute initially, moves independently after a while, playing a litany of swaras with ebullience.

The first CharaNam is structured beautifully and like the Pallavi, this too shows the genius of the composer. The first two lines touch the higher-octave swaras, with the second line even touching the upper ‘Ma’, a rarity even in normal classical concerts. The sound of the bell in the background makes it auspicious. It is clairvoyant too, a fact we will see in a bit!

The last two lines have the mid-octave swaras going up and down, with the last line ending with the ascending notes- the mark of a genius yet again!

The second interlude conveys myriad expressions. The strings bellow out feelings with impeccable precision. Suddenly, there is magic. The solo-violin plays rather happily. What makes us feel the happiness is the raga, whose name is Mohanam.

How did the raga change?

Hamsaanandi is one of the ragas from where the pentatonic ragas like Suddha Dhanyasi, Suddha Saveri, Hindolam, Madhyamavati and Mohanam can be obtained by keeping one of the swaras as the base. This technique is called Gruha Bhedam, a fact known to people who follow my posts here.

The Master keeps the swara ‘dha’ as the base here and it shifts to Mohanam. The reason for this has to do more with the sequence and less to show one’s capability. The rain stops and gradually the crowd starts gathering again. Mohanam is considered to be a happy raga and is there any better way of showing emotions and feelings?

The backing of the keys carries meaning too as it symbolises the rain drops!

The sitar plays Hamsaanandi now and the feeling of joy is ineluctable.

The second CharaNam is structured differently with the third and fourth line touching the lower-octave ni, the line that follows showing the arohana(ascent) and the following line reaching a crescendo with the dominant upper Sa.

Piercingly beautiful..

As beautiful as the little stones found on the banks of the Gandaki river and as magnificent as the 22 feet idol which reclines with inherent meaning!!