Looking at that figure, he cried ‘Ayyo!’
Who? What figure? Was it so
scary and horrific to look at?
Before I attempt to answer
these questions, I want to ask a series of questions:
What happens to us when we are
in awe of something? What happens to us when we are filled with joy? What
happens to us when we are ecstatic?
The answer is simple – We
forget totally forget ourselves and utter something which others might consider
offensive.
This is what happened to that
gentleman. Yet, there is a difference between ordinary (us) and extraordinary
(geniuses). While we would just stop with meaningless sounds or words (at times
even expletives), the latter give an aesthetic form to it.
Here, the name of the genius
is ThiruppaaNaazhwar. He looks at the magnificent figure of Ranganatha
in Srirangam and his thoughts veer to one of His earlier forms – Krishna
as an infant just before the end of the Dwaapara yuga. It may be noted
that as per mythology, it is believed that before any Yuga ended, there
would be a cataclysmic event. I do not want to expand this now as it is out of
syllabus. But what I am going to tell you is the gist of the entire verse where
that expression quoted in the beginning appears.
He swallowed the
seven worlds and lay on a small fig leaf. Now, He is lying on the gigantic
snake, wearing a garland of gems, and a pearl necklace. Oh! My heart is full
now.
ஆல மா மரத்தின் இலைமேல் ஒரு பாலகனாய்
ஞாலம் ஏழும் உண்டான் அரங்கத்து அரவின் அணையான்
கோல மா மணி ஆரமும் முத்துத் தாமமும் முடிவு
இல்லது ஓர் எழில்
நீல மேனி, ஐயோ! நிறை கொண்டது என் நெஞ்சினையே!
Can one even define or explain
that ecstatic ‘ayyo’?
On the other hand, awe-stuck
by the poetic beauty, we exclaim – Ayyo! We cannot go beyond that. But
geniuses are different. They are aesthetic in their approach and in their
expressions.
After having seen that Azhwar
and his expressions, let us see a Raaja and his expressions.
The composition is about a
couple who discover that they have fallen in love just then. Isn’t this a
normal sequence in an Indian movie? But geniuses make ordinary seem
extraordinary with their approach. And at the surface level, it looks pretty
simple. Scratch the surface and you will find many layers.
Om Namaha from Geetanjali (1989) is a composition based
on a raga called Hamsanaadam- a pentatonic raga, which once upon
a time had six swaras, but that again is out of syllabus here. It is a
very pleasing melody without a doubt, set in the 7-beat cycle, Mishram.
But, is that all?
The percussion- rhythm
pads- mimics our heartbeats. Love from the point of view of a connoisseur.
But what is amazing and astonishing is the fact that one hears these heart
beats throughout the song, a rarity for a composer known for changing the
patterns in a jiffy. Again, that is not all.
Mishram is – ta ki ta/ ta
ka dhi mi (1 2 3/ 1 2 3 4). Rather than playing all the seven beats,
the percussion plays just the first, second, fourth and fifth with
another melodic instrument playing the sixth and the seventh. Time now to
scratch the surface.
One hears the sound of the rhythm
guitar in the background and this plays all the seven beats. This is subtle
while the other one is prominent. Doesn’t this convey the philosophy of life
itself? The heart is at the superficial level but depends totally on the soul.
Heart – Rhythm pads.
Soul – Rhythm guitar.
Possible only by geniuses who
are also connoisseurs of life!
There is yet another ‘ayyo’
moment which we shall see at the end. But before that, let us look at the interludes
which too showcases the connoisseur of music.
With a haunting charm, the mandolin
unfolds the beauty of the raga. The strings glide in quietly and spread
the fragrance. The keys coo like a bird with the guitar giving
that touch of mellowness.
With musical elegance the
lines in the CharaNams, show us the unique melody of the raga,
with that mandra staayei nishadam giving that Raaja muttirai!
We shall see the CharaNam
again in a bit.
Beginning with the sound of
the bells, the second interlude sways gently and makes us sway as
well. With winsome variations, the flute shows different hues of the raga
with the strings making the glow of the raga enter our
consciousness.
And now for that moment. Just
before the 5th line, the Master keeps the panchamam (pa)
of the raga as the base Shadja (sa) and shifts it to Gambhira
naattai. It returns to Hamsanaadam in the next line.
Is it done to show the
majestic quality of love?
Or is it just the connoisseur
in action?
We don’t know. All we know is
to say ‘Ayyo!’
