Sometime back,
I had written in one of the posts that certain words in Indian languages cannot
be translated into English. Even if one manages to translate, the charm and the
real meaning of that word will be absent.
Take the word ‘manoharam’
for example. Can we translate it as ‘being pleasant’? If so, will it do
justice to the original word? ‘Manoharam’ is something pleasant and
beautiful. Is there an equivalent word in English?
Works of
geniuses always have this manoharam.
In my previous
post on ‘Koththamalli Poove’, I quoted a verse from Kamban.
Here is a verse on somewhat similar lines but with a more spiritual and mystic
content and meaning:
தேமாங்கனி கடுவன் கொள விடு கொம்பொடு தீண்டித்
தூ மாமழை துறுகல் மிசை சிறு நுண் துளி சிதற
ஆ மாம் பிணை அணையும் பொழில் அண்ணாமலை அண்ணல்
பூமாங்கழல் புனைசேவடி நினைவார் வினை இலரே.
‘The male
monkey plucks the mango from the branch and the droplets of rain water scatter
and fall on the rock. Assuming it to be the real rain, the cows run towards the
garden to take shelter. People who think of the feet of ANNamalaiyaan-which is
decorated with the flower-like anklet, will be free from all karmas. ‘
As I said in
the beginning, the English translation may not exactly convey the beauty of the
poem which is ‘manoharam’ personified. It has very deep inner meanings
too with the male monkey symbolizing our mind full of impurities, the droplets
being all our misdeeds, the cows symbolizing good and noble thoughts.
‘A noble
soul can recognise bad karmas and misdeeds and attain divinity by moving away
from these’.
I feel this is
the crux of the poem. One cannot help feeling very pleasant after reading the
poem because of the way the poet has described the scene.
This verse is
part of Thevaram written by the child prodigy Thirugnanasambhandar,
whose verses I have already quoted in many of my posts in this blog.
The music of ILaiyaraaja
has that manoharam because it is beautiful and divine. His compositions
also carry the stamp of brilliance because of the way he conceives the ideas-albeit
spontaneously- and embellishes the compositions
with his innovativeness. This is also because of his deep knowledge of
classical music. It is therefore not surprising that each and every composition
of his has a uniqueness which is unmatched.
The speciality
of the song of the day is that it is based on a raga which incidentally has the
word Manoharam. Did I say ‘speciality’? No, it should be ‘specialities’
because the song is special for more than one reason.
The raga is Gowrimanohari,
which is the 23rd mela ragam.True to its name, the raga has that
pleasantness which is as soft as an evening breeze.
Is it just a
coincidence that Solaippoovil maalai thendRal from VeLLai Roja
(1983) is based on this raga?
Let us get into
that ‘specialities’ I mentioned.
Firstly, it is
purely in this raga without any deviation whatsoever.
Secondly, the
rhythmic pattern of the percussion.
It is a fact
that he lays a lot of stress on Laya and is a Master in this. In this
composition, the laya pattern itself is the leitmotif.
Let us see that
first.
The composition
is based on Chatushra Ekam- 1 2 3 4. As already explained in all my
Laya Raaja posts, the beats are subdivided as ‘maatras’ and
obviously will have to be the multiples of the base taaLam. Here, the Master
first subdivides it into 16. He then gives the syllables as :
Ta ka dhi mi/
ta ka dhi mi/ta ka ta ki ta ta ki ta.
Then he assigns
the instruments to play these and how to play these.
The percussion
instrument to play the first four syllables, another percussion to play just
the third syllable in the second part, a sharp sounding melodic instrument to
play only the third and the sixth syllables in the second part. The Bass guitar
will of course back it from time and time and the other melodic instruments
will be simultaneously played. And of course, there shall also be phrases where
I will stop the percussion.
This is how his
mind must have worked while composing.
So, how do the
syllables look now?
Ta ka dhi mi/-
- dhi-/- - ta - - ta - - - - -
As already
mentioned, this runs as the leitmotif almost throughout the song giving
it a very special colour.
Let us now look
at the composition as a whole.
Clothed in
mellifluous warmth, the keys -backed by the sympathetic strings, subtle
drums and the Bass Guitar- move at a steady pace. After 3 aavartanaas,
the strings join and move with a splendour. This goes on for the next 4
aavartanaas after which the magic starts. Here too, the brilliant composer
gives variations. The flute and the stringed instrument(santoor?)
alternately play during each aavratana of the leit motif. Finally, the
stringed instrument plays the aarohaNa of Gowrimanohari leading
us to the Pallavi.
We hear only
the upper Sa during the first four phrases in the first two lines. In
the last line, we see pa and ma, ma and ga, ga
and ri pairing together to draw a beautiful sketch of the raga.
The Flute in
the beginning of the first interlude plays with an aesthetic solicitude.
That the echo and fading effect is not given using any sound technology but is
still ‘sound’ shows the genius of the composer yet again. The Bass Guitar
in the background and the drums at the end of this Flute- section
add to the glory. The leitmotif starts now and the guitar plays
with a sense of poignancy. The strings reply rather soberly too. After 6
aavartanaas, the strings take over with exuberance with the Flute
giving the ‘jawabs’ to the ‘savaals’ posed by them.
It is lilting and graceful. The keys produce the bells sound and the strings
nod their heads in appreciation.
The first 2
lines of the CharaNams have the avarohaNa swaras only. The
following 4 lines too almost have the avarohaNa pattern except for the
two phrases in the end of each line. The higher octave notes -Sa Ri Ga -
appear in the next two lines even as these lines go on the ascent. The last ‘la
la la la’ is a masterstroke with Janaki singing the higher octave notes Ri
Ma Ga Ri Sa Ga Ri Sa and SPB completing it with ri ga ma pa dha
ni Sa Ri-the beautiful arohaNa of the raga.
The Flute and
the strings interspersed between the lines in the CharNams are
subtle as well as sumptuous.
The second
interlude has varied sequences. First we have the strings playing what
in WCM is called as March Music. After three aavartanaas,
the prominent solo violin plays with suave even as the set of strings
continue their journey.
The keys then go with a bewitching fragrance backed by the leitmotif with
the special music of the prelude(in the very beginning of the song) appearing
at the end of each melodic line. The conspicuously thrilling strings
join with other instruments and touch the higher octave.
The ‘pa pa’ in
the end when the Pallavi is rendered and the postlude with strings
and the bells are mysteriously charming.
Manoharam..
