Words
are important for any language.
Can there be a language without words?
I shall leave this question unanswered for a while
and move on to a tamizh verse.
‘சொல்லினால் தொடர்ச்சி நீ, சொலப்படும் பொருளும்
நீ,
சொல்லினால் சொலப்படாது
தோன்றுகின்ற சோதி நீ,
சொல்லினால்
படைக்க நீ படைக்க வந்து தோன்றினார்,
சொல்லினால்
சுருங்க நின் குணங்கள் சொல்ல வல்லரே?’
Written by the great poet Thirumazhisaiyaazwar-
who is considered to be a revolutionary because of his radical views and
because of his very different Thiruchchandaviruththam-
this verse talks about the Divine in
terms of words.
‘You create relations with words.
You are the meaning of the words. You are the radiant flame of the unsaid
words. Is it possible for mortals to describe Your glory in few
words?’
Let me clarify that there are many interpretations to this verse and that
this is my own interpretation. Isn’t it a fact that a poem becomes more beautiful with a multitude of
interpretations?
In this verse, the Azhwar from Thrirmazhisai has used ‘word’ as the fulcrum to define the Divine. What is of utmost interest to me
is the second line which talks about
the ‘unsaid’. Can we call this as ‘silence’? Is silence just the absence of
words? Or is it something more than that?
Let me now quote yet another tamizh verse
from a poet belonging to a different era.
‘வேத ஆகம சித்ர வேலாயுதன் வெட்சி
பூத்த தண்டைப்
பாத அரவிந்தம் அரண் ஆக அல்லும்
பகலும் இல்லாச்
சூதானது அற்ற வெளிக்கே ஒளித்துச்
சும்மா இருக்கப்
போதாய் இனி மனமே தெரியாத ஒரு
பூதருக்குமே’
This was written by AruNagirinaathar,
the Tamizh poet from ThiruvaNNamalai. Without getting into the detailed explanation
of this verse, let me focus on just few phrases from the second, third and the
fourth lines. ‘Forgetting all mundane things, let me move to a blank space and
remain there doing nothing, in a state of quietude’.
In one of his other verses, the same poet wrote ‘சும்மா இரு, சொல் அற’ which means ‘Be quiet.Forget words’.
What are common to all these three verses are ‘ words, absence of words and
action’.
Put in a simple term, these talk about ‘silence’.
Let me now go back to one of the two questions asked in the beginning- Is silence just the absence of words?
Now, take the spelling of the word ‘SILENT’. If the letters are rearranged,
we get ‘LISTEN’. We need to
listen to silence to understand its value. Silence is not just the absence of
words or sound. There is silence in spoken words. There is silence in sound. When we recognise this, we get to know
the real value of silence.
And now to the first question- Can there be a language without words?
Yes, there is sign language, there is the language of nature, the language
of rain, the language of crying, the language of laughing. This list is huge but my focus on this special day is the
language which is very close to my heart..
Music!
There is not one thing in this world cannot be achieved by this langauge.
Most importantly, Silence and Music go hand-in-hand. And in the
hands of a composer who understands this fact, the beauty is enhanced.That is, the
beauty of music and the beauty of silence. ILaiyaraaja’s compositions shine
with radiance plainly and mainly because
he respects silence and knows that silence is musical and music is silence.
The special song of this year’s Geetanjali stands testimony to this.
The song does not have any silent phrases. The song does not even have any
interlude. The song does not talk about silence. In fact, it starts with the
word ‘Sabtham’.
Then why am I linking it with silence?
The beauty of ‘Sabthamayee’ from the Malayalam film ‘Sooryan’(2007) lies in
the way a vivadi raga is used. Literally translated, ‘vivadi’ means disonance.
Vivadi ragas supposedly evoke an eerie feeling not easy to describe. There are
some who do not enjoy listening to vivadi ragas. There are some who do not like
to sing vivadi ragas.
Not only are vivadi ragas not easy on the ear, also these are not easy to
handle. And yet, ILaiyaraaja remains the only film music composer to have
composed the maximimum number of compositions in vivadi ragas. By now, it would
have been clear that ‘Sabthamayee’ is based on a vivadi raga. This raga,
Ragavardhini is the 32nd mela raga. It is said that Shri.Lalgudi Jayaraman,
himself a legend, decided to compose a thillana in this raga after listening to
ILaiyaraaja’s classical composition played by Mandolin Shrinivas.
Let us now look at ‘Sabthamayee’. With the drone of tanpoora enveloping us,
we start listening to the silence. Kaavalam Srikumar starts the aalapana.
Generally, alapanaas are rendered in a carnatic concert for a variety of
reasons and the duration ranges from 2 minutes to 30 minutes. There were even
times when a raga alapana was sung for hours together. All these achieve one
singular objective- To give the essence of the raga.
Here, the alapana lasts just a few seconds. Yet, it gives us the total
essence of the raga. Goes to show that quality and not quantity is the hallmark
of a genius..
The length and breadth of Ragavardhini is traversed in this brief alapana.
The Pallavi which starts after the 3/4th point, is contemplative,
evocative and vivid. The mridangam starts only after ½ avartana and goes on a
full - fledged trip in the next avartana. The singing of ‘ikaaram’ and its
extension for 4 beats followed by the mridangam sound for 4 beats drench us
with silence. So does the sangati after ‘sabdham’ when the line is repeated the
next time.
The subtle violin follows the vocals silently. A new voice too joins
silently. The following line gives a caressing touch with the vivadi swara
peeping in now and then. The new voice-which is that of Shankaran Namboothiri-
repeats the line and one finds different dimensions in the same line when
rendered by two different voices.
The composition seamlessly goes to the first Charanam with only the percussion
-which plays the chatushram beats for a count of 4- acting as the interlude. The
first line moves with an inherent sensitivity with the last phrase having the
vivadi swara. The next line touches the higher octave swaras, brimming with
feelings. But what makes this more beautiful is the intensive creativity of the
composer.
Only two percussion instruments are used-mridangam and ghatam. The
mridangam plays a pattern which is then repeated by the ghatam and in the next
phrase, the mridangam plays the pattern played previously by the ghatam. If
this interplay between the two percussion patterns show us glimpses of Laya
Raaja, the following lines make us see the Laya Chakravarti.
It is a known fact that a classical composition is set to a taaLa, which is
nothing but a repetitive cycle of fixed beats. This taaLa is maintained
throughout the composition. Very few composers change the gait in the midst of
a composition. OOthukkaadu Venkata Kavi was one such composer. This change of
gait is called as gati bhedam. Here, while the taaLa cycle remains the same,
the gait changes. For example, a composition following chatushram beats will
suddenly change to tisram, at the same time following the same taaLa cycle.
Just for information, chatushram is 4 and Tisram is 3.
ILaiyaraaja has done gati bhedam in many songs. In ‘Shabdhamayee’, the gait
is changed to tisram in the third line and this goes on for one and half
cycles. Isn’t this a breath taking twist?
The second CharaNam is different from the first CharaNam in terms of the
structure of the swaras. The first line moves with meticulous purity. The
second line has the subtleties and niceties of not just the normal swaras but
of the vivadi swara as well.
What follows is a sudden torrent of swaras. Mathematics and Music combine
together in this brilliantly conceived segment. The winding labyrinthine swaras
are also oscillated gracefully. We reach empyrean heights when gati bhedam is
done again.
Everything exists. Everything ceases to exist.
There are words. There are no words.
There is action. There is inaction.
There is Music.
There is Silence.
PS: This post was written specially for 'Geetanjali', an Event held every year as a dedication to the Maestro since the year 2008, and read out to an invited audience at Chennai on the 9th of September 2018.
