Being fearless is an art.
It may be one of the traits or qualities of some
people but the fact remains that it is an art
for the simple reason that when people show no fear, there is that aesthetic element which is hidden and
unseen..
However, this element is so obviously seen if the
fearless person happens to be an artiste
or a poet. Let me hasten to add that
I am talking about the positive fearlessness and not about the negative
fearlessness which leads to all kinds of crimes.
So, what happens when an artiste or a poet is
fearless? Put in simple words, their works become immortal.
Take AruNagirinaathar
for example. After having indulged in many acts (not necessarily positive), he
became a completely transformed man when his attempt to commit suicide was
thwarted by the Divine Force. He
chose to chart a new path in composing verses. ‘Chandam’(loosely translated as the rhythm and rhyme) formed the fulcrum of his verses and rather than
using the taaLaas in vogue as per the
classical texts, he used his own taaLaas
which had some unusual number of syllables.
The Thiruppugazh
thus attained a form of its own- Eight
lines, different chanda taaLaas, liberal use of words, adapting and
incorporating many Sanskrit words..
The eight lines did not have any standard length (unlike
the Ashtapadis) and varied from Thiruppugazh to Thiruppugazh. There are long
Thiruppugazhs and short Thiruppugazhs though the
eight-line standard was stuck to. The ‘liberal use of words’ described in
detail about even things which not many Bhakti
poets dared to talk about(‘Naaliyara
Divya Prabhandam’ too has the erotic element but that is totally different.
Probably, I shall explain the difference in one of the forthcoming posts).
Apart from the ‘Thiruppugazh’,
AruNagiri composed many other works
like ‘Kandar Anubhooti’, ‘Kandar
Alankaaram’, ‘Kandar Andhadhi’(I have quoted verses from each one of these
in my posts), but my favourite remains the ‘Mayil
Viruththam’ which describes the
aggression of peacock in a unique
way. Here, words dance literally to the rhythm of the song and I enjoy reading
these verses aloud because not only is it aesthetically and musically beautiful,
but it also drives away one’s fear.
See this verse:
தீரப் பயோததி திக்கும் ஆகாயமும்
செகதலமும் நின்று சுழலத்
திகழ்கின்ற முடி மவுலி சிதறி விழ வெம் சிகைத்
தீக்கொப்புளிக்க வெருளும்
பாரப் பணாமுடி அநந்தன் முதல் அரவெலாம்
பதைபதைத்தே நடுங்கப்
படர் சக்ரவாளகிரி துகள் பட வையாளி வரு
பச்சை ப்ரவாள மயிலாம்
ஆர ப்ரதாப புளகித மதன பாடீர
அமிர்த கலசக் கொங்கையாள்
ஆடு மயில் நிகர் வல்லி அபிராம வல்லி பர
மாநந்த வல்லி சிறுவன்
கோர த்ரிசூல த்ரியம்பக ஜடாதார
குரு தரு திருத்தணி கைவேள்
கொடிய நிசிசரர் உதரம் எரி புகுத விபுதர் பதி
குடி புகுத நடவு மயிலே.
செகதலமும் நின்று சுழலத்
திகழ்கின்ற முடி மவுலி சிதறி விழ வெம் சிகைத்
தீக்கொப்புளிக்க வெருளும்
பாரப் பணாமுடி அநந்தன் முதல் அரவெலாம்
பதைபதைத்தே நடுங்கப்
படர் சக்ரவாளகிரி துகள் பட வையாளி வரு
பச்சை ப்ரவாள மயிலாம்
ஆர ப்ரதாப புளகித மதன பாடீர
அமிர்த கலசக் கொங்கையாள்
ஆடு மயில் நிகர் வல்லி அபிராம வல்லி பர
மாநந்த வல்லி சிறுவன்
கோர த்ரிசூல த்ரியம்பக ஜடாதார
குரு தரு திருத்தணி கைவேள்
கொடிய நிசிசரர் உதரம் எரி புகுத விபுதர் பதி
குடி புகுத நடவு மயிலே.
Ironically enough, this verse describes as to how
the entire Universe trembles with
fear when the peacock (vaahana of Lord Muruga) dances:
Seas
and Oceans, Eight directions (Dishas), the sky, and the earth (bhoo loka)
rotate with force; Thousand locks fall from the heavy, fire-spewing hot hoods
of the fear stuck Adisesha and the other serpents as they tremble with fear;
The huge ChakravaaLa mountain breaks into pieces; All these happen when the
peacock-with the green and coral hued feathers- takes its beautiful flight and
dances.
Only poets
who are fearless can even imagine
composing such verses.
Like AruNagiri,
ILaiyaraaja is fearless. That he
broke new grounds in orchestration
and arrangement with courage of
conviction, is known to many and does not need more elaboration at least now.
But what I find more interesting and intriguing is the way he has used the ragas.
In film music,
one has the liberty of breaking the rules of grammar, as mentioned by me time
and again. All great composers in Indian
Film Music have done this time and again. However, it is one thing to break
the rules just to make it sound ‘light’; it is quite another to do it as an
experiment to enhance the quality of the song.
Most importantly, here classicism does not take a back seat. On the other hand,
it sounds more classical.
Let me explain. The uniqueness of the Indian classical system is its ragas. As some of you know, each raga has a set of ascending and descending
notes which when rendered correctly, gives the shade(s) of the respective raga(s). The raga changes its colour even if one note is changed.
It is not uncommon to add alien notes in a film music
composition(this is done in some of the classical forms too, tumri in Hindustani music being a classic example). ILaiyaraaja has done this too. But changing the variant of one particular note in the
midst of a composition, requires a
lot of guts, gumption and most importantly, knowledge.
The song
I am taking up today is one such composition.
The beautiful aspect in ‘Maanin iru kaNgaL koNda maane
maane’ from ‘MaappiLai’ (1989) is not that it is
based on a classical raga called MayamalavagowLa but in the way a variant of one of the swaras is changed to give a different raga. But the most beautiful aspect is
that unless people listen with utmost concentration, the transition cannot be
made out.
MayamalavagowLa
is a unique raga and the basic
lessons in carnatic music are taught
in this raga. The swaras used in this raga are the shuddha rishabham(ri1), antara gandharam(ga3), shuddha
madhyamam(ma1), shuddha dhaivatam(dha1) and kaakali nishadam(ni3) apart
from the shadjam(sa) and the panchamam(pa). Now, if one changes one
of the variants of any swara, it
leads to a different raga. This is what
happens in ‘Maanin iru kaNgaL’. The
variant of ‘ri’ is changed from ‘shuddha’(ri1) to ‘chatushruti’(ri2) in the CharaNams
and it transforms to Sarasangi.
Let us see the composition
fully to understand this better.
The song
starts with a flourish with the higher
octave violins moving with a sense of purpose rather ebulliently. A closer
observation suggests that these play the chatushram
syllables-ta ka dhi mi- in mel kaalam 16 times in the first cycle
with the drums sounding just a
couple of times. After having reached a crescendo, these give way to the bass guitar, which again sounds the chatushram beats in mel kaalam with the drums
backing it. The chorus starts the
different humming with a touch of tenderness even as the bass guitar and the drums
continue to play. The strings and
the flute appear briefly and
alternately adding to the momentum. There are at least 3 sets of percussion and
this makes the prelude robust.
There is serenity too when the chorus and the instruments
pause three times. Isn’t silence very beautiful when observed at the right
time?
The Pallavi
has the Raaja Muththirai with the first line being rendered almost
without percussion. The structure is innovative with the upper Sa being sandwiched between the mid
octave swaras and the swaras descending towards the end. If
this is the structure in the first
and the second line, the lines that
follow have some interesting prayogas
like ‘dha ma ma dha’ and ‘ma ma ma ri ri ma ga’.
The voices of SPB
and Janaki add to the special aroma. So does the keys sound which appears towards the
end of the Pallavi.
The enticing bass
guitar sounds resonantly in the beginning of the first interlude to
signal what is in store. An instrument
sounding like the clarinet (or is it
clarinet itself?) gives the resplendent shades of MayamalagowLa with the chorus
humming different sets of notes simultaneously. How can harmony be complete without the flute? The flute appears
now and then and plays with unique limpidness.
The harmony
continues in the next segment with
two sets of strings playing
different sets of notes simultaneously- with one set playing the melody played
by the clarinet in the previous
segment and the other set playing the humming notes of the chorus.
Dynamically aesthetic!
The dynamism continues with the bass guitar entering
briefly and leading to the first CharaNam.
That the CharaNams
have attractive phrases is not the only highlight here. For most part of the
first line, only two swaras ‘ni’ and
‘Sa’ are used. Just towards the end
of the line, the O’Henry Raaja gives
us a twist. As already mentioned before, the swara ‘Ri2(chatushruti rishabham) appears just once
and the raga transforms to Sarasangi.
The swara
appears again just once in the second
line, which too has just two swaras
–pa and dha- for most part with
the ni and Sa
appearing later. The CharaNam continues in Sarasangi till the 6th line. The following line
does not have the rishabham and yet
one starts feeling MayamalavagowLa
here. The last line has the shuddha
rishabham(ri1) just once.
This is what
is called as the Composer’s Brilliance
and this proves yet again that it is not the swara alone which determines the raga.
The second interlude-as usual- sounds different and is marked by the percussion underpinnings. The percussion sounds ‘ta - dhi - /- - dhi mi’ giving kaarvai. The chorus hums in a folksy style without deviating from the raga and one does not fail to see the Arabic shades of the raga here. The strings swirl with elan and then go on to romance with the keys which sound with sweet exuberance. It is intense and at the same time sedate.
Isn’t fearlessness an art?