Sunday, 2 June 2024

ILaiyaraaja – The Ageless Musician

 

What makes anything everlasting, perpetual, immortal and even beyond time? Do these have some special powers or have these been granted boons? Or is it that ‘it just happens’ without any reason?

By now many are aware that the Tamizh Changam poetry is more than 2500 years old and yet these are alive and kicking(in the tongues of scholars and in the minds of the literati) despite so many things having changed in two millennium. How and Why?

Allow me to quote a poem from one of these works, before I attempt to answer that question:

 

தொடி நெகிழ்ந்தனவே, தோள் சாயினவே,

விடும் நாண் உண்டோ தோழி விடர் முகைச்

சிலம்புடன் கமழும் அலங்கு குலைக் காந்தள்

நறும் தாது ஊதும் குறுன்சிறைத் தும்பி

பாம்பு உமிழ் மணியின் தோன்றும்

முந்தூர் மேனிய மழைக் கிழவோற்கே.



Says she:

My bangles are slipping; My arms are getting leaner by the second.

Do I still have any modesty left(to lose)?

The bees spread the fragrance of the Malabar Blue lilies

That resemble the gems spat by the snake

Oh! My man who rules the mountain surrounded by the thorny bamboo fence.

What does this convey to you? The angst of the girl who pines for his man? Her ecstatic reminiscence on the time spent together? Her helplessness?

Forget all these for the time being and look at the way the poem is structured with focus on simile and contrasts. The little bees and the pollen here indicate the union while the snake and the gems(contrasts) depict the separation.

Bees spread the fragrance. Likewise, her man spread good things about her. Or put simply, fragrance here symbolises Love.

Bangles are coming off the hands’ – shows her angst.

I have no modesty even to lose’- does this need any elaboration at all?

Coming to think of it, each line is a small poem by itself and doesn’t this explain the reason for its immortality? By the way, this poem written by Aasiriyar PerunkaNNanaar, is part of KuRunthogai, which is part of Ettuththogai which is part Tamizh Changam literature, which, as per history and research dates back to BC 500.

Talking about immortality, this composer’s works too will fall under that category though sceptics would jump and comment that it is too early to say and ask ‘where is 2500 and where is 48’? Though they are partly correct, I have my own reasons for my presumption and the collection of posts here would list out that reasons though not in a specific order. But more than anything else, the fact that the compositions sound fresh even after decades at a time when what is considered a ‘hit’, disappears even before one bats an eyelid, is proof enough to suggest that the presumption might turn out to be a reality.

Today, I am taking up ‘EnnuLLe EnnuLLe’ from VaLLi(1993) as one of the examples. A song well-known to many, it is also packed with intricacies, not known to many.

First and foremost, it would disappoint people who look for ragas in each and every song, it I said that the composition cannot be classified under a particular raga. It just follows the minor scale of Western Classical Music. More on this, in a while.

Secondly, there is not a single percussion instrument in the song throughout the Pallavi, interludes and the CharaNams. There is a rider here. The composition starts with the percussion ruling the roost for 1 minute and 45 seconds, but the moment the melodic instruments start playing, the percussion retires. In fact, this segment (percussion) is not part of the normal audio one gets to listen, though it is part of the OST of the movie.

Let us get going and experience the Laya from the Raaja to start with:

Dheem - - ta/dheem - - ta

ta ki ta ta ki ta dheem -/- ta ka ta ki ta dheem (twice)

Dheem dheem ta -(twicw)/ ta ki ta ta ki ta dheem -/- ta ka ta ki ta dheem

Ta ka dhi mi/ta ka jhanu(8 times)

Dheem dheem ta ka ta ka/ki ta ta ka ta ka ta ri ki ta ta ka

Dheem dheem dheem dheem/ ta ka ta ri ki ta ta ka

Ta ka dhi mi/ta ka jhunu(3 times)/ ta ka dhi taangida ta ka ta ri ki ta ta ka

Ta ka dhi mi/ta ka jhunu/ ta ka dhi taangida ta ka ta ri ki ta ta ka (mel kaalam) – twice

Ta- ta – dheem/ ta ki ta dheem/ta ka dhi mi dheem/ ta dhinginnaththom/ta dhinginnaththom/ta dhinginnaththom

Ta – dhi -/ta taangu/ ta – dhi /ta taangu/ta – dhi/ta taangu

Ta-dhi – ta

Ta- ta – dheem/ ta ki ta dheem/ta ka dhi mi dheem/ ta dhinginnaththom/ta dhinginnaththom/ta dhinginnaththom

Ta – dhi -/ta taangu/ ta – dhi /ta taangu/ta – dhi/ta taangu

Ta-dhi – ta

Ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka jhunu(12 times)

Ta - ki ta ta ka/dhi- ki ta ta ka/ta - ki ta ka/dhi – ki ta ka

Ta - - -/ta - - -.

 

After these labyrinthine alleys, what we see and hear is something totally different.

There are three layers- one with the lead guitar, second with the rhythm guitar and third with the bass guitar. If the third layer shows the first layer in a different form, the second layer just backs the two layers. If you are confused and even bewildered by this line, let me try and explain.

The lead guitar plays a melody (which very soon we learn, is the melody of the Pallavi) in the minor scale. Interpreted in Carnatic language, this is Nata Bhairavi scale, but there is a catch here too. The entire bit eschews the note ‘ni’, the variant of which differentiates this scale with that of the Gowrimanohari scale, with the former being known by the name Diatonic minor and the latter going by the name Melodic minor.

Now, the bass guitar just plays the notes played by the lead guitar in the lower-octave. This is somewhat strange because generally in his compositions, the bass guitar plays a totally different sets of notes either while backing the lead instruments or while playing along with the vocals. Next, the rhythm guitar keeps playing ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi throughout. Hope the layers are understood now.

The chorus joins and hums the melody of the lead guitar even as the instruments continue to play. Can we call this a fourth layer?

More layers are seen in the Pallavi when the lead singer-Swarnalatha- takes over. The chorus sings in a different octave(lower) giving that effect of Harmony. But what is amazing is that the three different guitars continue in the background, albeit in a subdued tone.

Once layered, will it be possible for these to disappear on their own? Surely not especially if the layering is done by a master composer. We have three layers again the first segment of the first interlude. One set of strings is beguiling. The second set is enticing and the third set, soft and supple.

The double bass joins the set now and there is the fourth layer again. The brass flute interjects vivifying the atmosphere and one sees the different dimensions of the minor scale. The strings play sustained melody now and then even as the flute trots up and down assiduously. It is time for harmony again and as the chorus sings in harmony, the rhythm guitar backs it with continuous 1 2 3 4 with grace.

The layering continues in the CharaNams with the alluring flute and the translucent strings charting their own course with unique melodies, playing along and in between, to make it grandiloquent.

As mentioned, the lines in the CharaNams straddle between the Diatonic minor (Nata Bhairavi) and Melodic minor (Gowrimanohari) with the last two lines following the latter and the first two lines following the former.

The strings play a movement twice. Does it sound pensive? Or does it sound mystical?

If this occurrence in the beginning of the second interlude, what follows leaves us spell bound. The strings go in higher-octave; another set just backs it with sustained melody; the double bass plays with a touch of nonchalance; the chorus sings in harmony with the strings in the background; the cello just follows up with a very subtle touch.

We see the light. Is it the Light of Eternity?

 

 

 

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