Friday, 2 January 2026

ILaiyaraaja – The Polymath

 How do we define genius?

Can we say unusually brilliant?

It is rather tough to determine if it is natural or if is it acquired over a period of time. There are some born geniuses. There are also people who by virtue of their sheer hard work and dedication, become experts. We see their genius in their works much later.

In some cases, there is a divine intervention and all of a sudden, a very normal person becomes a genius. This is what happened in the case of KaaLidasa, who was an illiterate and with the blessings of KaaLi, became a poet composing some immortal works in Sanskrit. How far the story of him being a dumb is true, nobody knows.

There is also the story of AruNagirinthar, who after leading a nauseas life attempted to take his life, and just at that moment, was blessed by Muruga. He went on to compose many verses (‘many’ is an understatement) and created a niche for himself in Tamizh literature (and in music as far as the taaLas are concerned).

While KaaLidasa is believed to have lived around the 4th and the 5th century, AruNagirinthar lived in the 14th century. But more recently too, there have been some geniuses in whose life the Divine played an indirect role. A person who was born Muthiah, who had little formal education and who was an atheist because of the influence of an ideology, read the works of AaNdaaL one night, became KaNNadasan and changed the paradigm of tamizh film songs.

Then there was somebody by name Rangarajan who went to Madras with the dream of becoming a lyricist, faced rejection and dejection which led him to the brink of life. With thoughts of ending his life lingering in his mind, a song came floating in the air, and this turned around his life. This gentleman who is better known by the name Vaali, went on to pen many songs, songs that still float in the air if one happens to tune in to the Radio/TV or even the other music related applications in the digital gadgets.

Guess whose song changed his life?

Yes, it was one of the songs of KaNNadasan.

Apart from film songs, Vaali ( like KaNNadasan) also authored some books, that include ‘PaaNdavar Bhoomi’ (Mahabharata) and ‘Avataara Purushan’ (RamayaNa) in the Pudukkavitai format.

Needless to say, Vaali was inspired by KaNNadasan who in turn was inspired by AaNdaaL.

Let me just produce a couple of lines written by KaNNadasan first and Vaali next, and you will know the reason after a while.

KaNNadasan once wrote – உண்டென்று சொல்வதுந்தன் கண்ணல்லவா/ இல்லையென்று சொல்வதுந்தன் இடையல்லவா.

Loosely translated (in fact, it is next to impossible to translate this), it would mean -Your eyes make one believe that ‘it is there’, while your waist makes on feel that ‘it is not there’. Going a little deep, one can interpret this as ‘huge eyes’ and ‘slim waist’. Well, there is more to it than meets the eye!

Generally, a sculptor draws a sketch of the sculpture he plans to sculp. When he goes to the eyes, he puts tick marks on both sides and when he goes to the waist, he puts cross marks. So, a ‘Yes’ for ‘eyes’ and a ‘No’ for the waist!

Now you can see the meaning of genius.

Vaali, the protégé , takes a different take. While describing the beauty of Kunti in PaaNdavar Bhoomi, he says the waist is like the Divine. Why? Don’t some people believe the existence of God, and don’t some deny the same? So, her waist is ‘there’ and ‘not there’!

Meaning of genius yet again?

Let us look at that verse:

நடைக்கு உவமை – நதி;

சடைக்கு உவமை – சாரை;

துடைக்கு உவமை – தூண்;

இடைக்கு உவமை – இறை!

ஏனெனில் ..

இதைப் பற்றித்தான்

‘இலது’ ‘உளது’

என-

இரைகிறது உலகு!

Gait like a river/ Hair like a snake/Thighs like a pillar/Waist like the Divine.


I spoke about the genius of some masters. How can I leave out the genius who was born in a village in a remote corner, and rose to not just compose tunes that sounded fresh and different then (and now and forever), but also brought in a totally different perspective to the orchestration and the background score.

The song we are going to see today is no doubt a classic composition in terms of the melody, but I am going to focus more on the TaaLa part. Isn’t Laya Raaja, my favourite?

KaaLidasan KaNNadasan Kavitai Nee from Soorkkottai Singakkutti (1983) is set in Mishram (7/8).

It starts with the akaaram and for two cycles, goes without the backing of the percussion. The percussion joins at the third cycle and plays ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi (1 2 3/ 1 2 3 4) with precision. In the next cycle, it is ta ki ta when the male sings and ta ka dhi mi when the female chorus sings. After 2 cycles, it is ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi in the male akaaram followed by the female chorus for the entire cycle, while the male continues the akaaram even during the chorus segment. After 2 cycles, the instruments take over.

The dazzling strings play ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka dhi mi. Is it not 10 then? Not really. The first ta ki ta is played in the normal speed while the two ta ka dhi mi-s are played in the faster mode. So here, 8 = 4.

After two cycles, the violins play ta ka dhi mi/ta ka/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi.

What is this? Should it not be just 7 (ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi)? And yet again, arithmetic plays a role. 7 is further broken into 14 and is played in the faster mode. These 14 beats are the micro-beats.

This goes on for 3 cycles until the ebullient violins decide to give way to the sedate santoor for one cycle with the latter playing just ta ki ta/ta ka dhi mi in the normal speed. The violins join in and as if influenced by the santoor, plays the mishram with sobriety along with the santoor.

I am sure it is understood that the percussion keeps playing all the seven beats of mishram in the background throughout and that I have focussed on the melodic instruments playing the beats – not common in others’ compositions, while not uncommon in many of his compositions.

The lines in the Pallavi (vocals- Jayachandran and Suseelashimmer with beauty. For academic interest, the composition is loosely based on Abheri, with a dash of alien notes creeping in later. There are 3 sets of percussion and all the 3 play ta - -/ ta – dhi -. The ‘-‘ are gaps where the percussion keeps quiet and some of you familiar with my posts here know that this is called kaarvai.

The beginning of the first interlude glistens with the sound of the santoor, which plays ‘ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi’ followed by the ineluctable flute which plays the same but in its own way.

After two cycles, the violins play ‘ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka’ with the santoor completing ‘ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka dhi mi’ exquisitely. The doughty violins are in full swing then and continue to play the same pattern for 3 cycles. Just towards the end of the third cycle, the flute joins in and plays along. Note that the percussion takes a break during the first cycle, adding that effect of silence.

The special effect continues in a different way when the violins play ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka/ ta ka dhi mi and stop, giving space to the flute which plays just two syllables and pauses. The percussion keeps quiet yet again when the flute plays.

The violins then continue with the santoor pitching in. The chorus continues ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi in akaaram with the backing of the bass guitar. Finally, the violins play ta ki ta/ ta ka with the santoor playing ta ka dhi mi in faster mode, which in effect is 2 and not 4.

The lines in the CharaNam are graceful with alien notes peeping in rather liberally. In the first half, the tabla plays mishram giving kaarvai now and then while in the second half, the mrudangam plays all the 7 beats.

Ta - dhi mi /ta ka/ ta – dhi mi /ta – dhi mi says the acoustic guitar twice, appearing out of the blue, along with the rhythm guitar. The violins play mishram in higher-octave with kaarvai ( ta – ta / ta – dhi mi) twice.

It takes a folksy turn with the male voice which appeared in the prelude humming tantaane ta ne in mishram leaving gaps for a cycle now and then and the female chorus joining in in the second half. The flute follows and plays ta ka dhi mi / ta ka/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi twice with the backing of bass guitar. Finally, the enticing santoor plays ta ki ta in the normal speed with the ebullient violins playing ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka dhi mi in the faster mode.

It is there’ and ‘It is not there’.

Yes’ and ‘No’.

Isn’t this the meaning of Genius?