Story telling is an art. All of us can tell stories. But not many can tell interesting stories; not many can make stories interesting; not many can interestingly narrate an interesting story with the reader or the listener not even aware that a story is being narrated. The story, the narrator and the listener become one.
Let me repeat-
Story telling is an art!
Take Kamban. Yes,
he did write that magnum opus called Ramayana. But my focus is more into the
kind of stories he weaved in just a couple of lines in his verses, which if
interpreted would take reams to explain. Let me just quote three examples from
the verses I have already quoted in some of my earlier posts.
எடுத்தது கண்டனர். இட்டது
கேட்டார்.
மையோ மரகதமோ மழைமுகிலோ ஐயோ இவன்
வடிவு.
எழுந்திராய் எழுந்திராய் கறங்கு போல வில் பிடித்த கால தூதர் கையிலே உறங்குவாய் உறங்குவாய் இனிக்கிடந்து உறங்குவாய்.
The first one refers to the swayamvara where he breaks the bow. The audience see him take the bow… And hear the sound.
The second one talks
about Rama leaving the Kingdom along with his brother and his wife. Is He the
kaajal? Is He the Emerald? Is He the Ocean? Or is He the Rain clouds? Oh, no,
leave me now.
The third one is about
the effort to wake KumbakarNa up. Wake up now. You are anyway going to sleep forever.
What I have given are just literal translations. But as mentioned earlier,
each and every line can be expanded to tell us stories and stories within
stories. That ‘aiyyo’ alone is enough to make us all shout with excitement.
Let us now see a complete verse. It is the night before the wedding. Rama
and Sita are in their respective chambers. Needless to say, sleep eludes them.
And the night never seems to end.
கழியா உயிர் உந்திய காரிகை தன்
விழி போல வளர்ந்தது வீகிலதால்
அழிபோர் இறைவன் பட அஞ்சியவன்
பழி போல வளர்ந்தது பாயிருளே.
Here, he compares the
night and the darkness to two totally different things. First, it is like the
eyes of that girl who has stirred his soul. At the surface level, it would seem
as if the poet is comparing the pupil of the eye with darkness. Delve further
and you can see the word vaLarnthathu. The night seems to be never ending and
it keeps growing and expanding like her eyes.
In the second half, he
talks about war and the ignominy of a king who loses the war. The darkness and
therefore the night is like that unfathomable ignominy.
Contrasts? Yes! But
delve deeper and you can find that it symbolises RavaNa and his defeat. The
entire RamayaNa narrated in a matter of seconds in just four lines.
Not many can
interestingly narrate an interesting story with the reader or the listener not
even aware that a story is being narrated.
This is Kamban-
The Story teller.
Let us now look at
a story teller, who weaves eternal stories in a jiffy.
If Kavi Chakravarti
told stories in poetic form, Isai Gnaani has been telling stories in musical
form.
Any song of his can be
interpreted in multiple ways and each time one can see a different story or an
expansion of a story depending on the perspective.
‘Iru Vizhiyin Vazhiye’
from ‘Siva’(1989) is no exception.
Listen to the initial
humming of Chitra. What do you feel?
Jubilation?
Exultation? Exuberance?
And the subtle sound
of the bells? Doesn’t it make you visualise something?
And the flute which
lights up short colour glints with keys backing?
And the two sets of
percussion in chatushram with the first set sounding only the first syllable
like a light thunder and the other one sounding ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka dhi mi like
the lightning?
And after a while when
the first set gathers momentum and sounds the first and the third syllable yet
again like a light thunder?
And when the chorus
hums with grace and sensitivity and the higher-octave strings moving with
coherence and fluidity?
And when Chitra joins
again and continues the humming from where she left?
Don’t we see Hamsadhwani
sketch a beautiful portrait and extending beyond that?
Don’t we see the
effervescent lightness in the Pallavi which glides in quietly and with
unmatchable charm even as SPB joins in?
What does the soft,
sedate, subtle and majestic melody of the saxophone in pure Hamsadhwani
indicate in the beginning of the first interlude?
And the aura of the
melody from the flute which touches the nook and cranny of Hamsadhwani and
starts floating in the air?
And the finely etched
melody from the strings which moves with pulsating weight on the ground
providing a beautiful contrast to the flute which is floating?
And the abundant
melody phrases in the CharaNams with the zealous first segment where one also
has to listen between the lines to the mellow flute and the ebullient strings
for a full aavartana? Isn’t listening between the lines as exciting as reading
between the lines?
And the sober second
segment which moves gently with the ascending and descending notes moving like
breeze?
And the alluring depth
of the last segment which touches the higher-octave notes revealing the hidden
ecstasy?
Or the fragrance of
the humming in the beginning of the second interlude and the musical elegance
of the saxophone which shows the unique dimension of a pure classical raga
called Hamsadhwani?
Or the caressing and
felicitous strings in higher-octave with the chorus humming following like a
calm river?
Or the dazzling flute
which interjects and plays the ‘Sa ni pa ga ri’ phrase showing us all that
sliding is not merely going down but is also going up to reach dizzying
heights?
Some stories do not
end. And we do not want these to end.
That is why, story
telling is an art. It grows, glows and spreads the rays of light ..to dispel
darkness.
Ps: This post was
exclusively written for the 7th Anniversary celebrations of ‘ILaiyaraaja-
The Master’, a Group on Facebook, and was read out to an invited audience on
Zoom on the 2nd of October 2021.
