ILaiyaraaja – The Sempiternal Musician

 

Time stood still.

Time froze.

It is timeless.

Time rolls on.

Time moves.

Long time ago.

These are just some of the statements about Time. Do you see a paradox between the first three and the last three? It typifies Time. After all, Time itself is a paradox.

Rather than analysing this and questioning this, let us move on and focus on the topic. For, Time never waits for anyone!

Here is a lady who has not heard from her man for quite a while. Rather than call Time on her Love, she waits. Her friend spots the pallor and is worried. But the lady is unperturbed.

She says, “Do not worry about my pallor. It is surely not because of him, that man from that country where peacocks squawk even as they sway their long plumes, on the banks of the forest river which swells because of the heavy rains”.

கலி மழை கெழீஇய கான் யாற்று இகுகரை

ஒலி நெடும் பீலி துயல்வர இயலி,

ஆடு மயில் அகவும் நாடன் நம்மொடு

நயந்தனன் கொண்ட கேண்மை

பயந்தக்காலும் பயப்பு ஒல்லாதே.

(KuRunthogai – 264- Kapilar)

 

Rajendra Kumar · Kurunthogai 264

While the fact that she compares herself to the happily dancing peacocks cannot be missed, what should not be missed is her firm conviction – Whatever happens, my love for him will be the same!

Whether it is the 2500-year-old KuRunthogai or a 40-year-old musical piece, certain things remain the same.

Take this composition Kaalam Maaralaam from Vaazhkkai (1984). Does it not sound as fresh as a daisy after so many years and does it not make us yearn for more?

Is the reason the melody or is there something else as well? Well, it could be both.

Sounding as soft as possible, the guitar plays ‘ta ka dhi mi’ four times and one clearly hears a few swaras of Hamsadhwani. Just as the fourth ‘ta ka dhi mi’ starts, SPB enters and sings the akaaram. After one cycle, we see the entry of VaNi Jayaram, who sings the akaaram, but a melody different from that of SPB’s. Both move together and it is a counter-point in Hamsadwani. The lilting akaarams keep going around us in two concentric circles.

After a while, SPB just hums in Hamsadhwani and VaNi Jayaram responds with the same humming. What is sandwiched in between is that sound of the veeNa, subtle and nuanced! It sounds again after the humming of VaNi Jayaram, and then we are in for a surprise!

Did I say ‘surprise’? Well, can anything be a surprise if one knows this composer well?

The electric guitar plays in Hamsadhwani, but don’t we hear an alien note?

Hamsadhwani has sa ri2 ga3 pa ni3, both in ascending and descending, but there is a clear sound of the dhaivatam (dha1) too. Raga texts define this scale/raga as ‘TaraLam’, derived from the 27^th meLa, Sarasangi. Has any other composer used it? I am not sure. But this composer had used it before. Keep thinking about that song, which some people still think is based on Latangi.

In a way, TaraLam sounds like Latangi but the absence of the swara ‘ma’, gives it a uniqueness. The fact that the dhaivatam gives it a poignant flavour cannot be denied.

What cannot be denied is also the fact that there is a kind of freshness in this raga/scale.

The prelude ends with the guitar playing ‘ta ka dhi mi’ four times again in Hamsadhwani, making it a circle.

Isn’t life itself a circle?

SPB starts the Pallavi. The Master of varieties, whose other name is ILaiyaraaja, gives rest to the percussion and makes rhythm guitar the backing instrument when the first line is rendered the first time. And he also starts the composition with the descending notes (Sa ni pa ga) and then goes to the ascending notes (sa ri ga pa). If the mandra staayi (lower- octave notes) in the beginning of the next two lines, is not a surprise, the last line (after which the Pallavi starts again) is not a surprise at all. It goes ri ga pa ni (ini varum) and then Sa ni ni pa ga- ascending and descending.

Circle of life again!

Note that the entire Pallavi is in pure Hamsadhwani.

So is the first half of the first interlude. The strings sound ta ka dhi mi in mid-octave Hamsadhwani thrice with a new set of strings joining in during the third ta ka dhi mi and sounding the same in higher-octave. The last part is sounded by the keys. Vivifying the atmosphere, a set of different keys moves with agility and the veeNa responds in its own style. The electric guitar enters now and brings in the dhaivatam, transforming Hamsadhwani to TaraLam.

Gracefully transiting to the western classical style, the strings play in the higher-octave intercepted now and then by a couple of instruments that play different sets of notes (mainly descending). But it is the flute that steals the show by showing a sudden flash of light, towards the end, aided by the stringed instrument.

Don’t we see such sudden flashes of light in our life as well?

TaraLam is in full flow in the first half of the CharaNams in which the tabla sounds just the first and the third syllables (ta, dhi) with intensity and with a very subtle percussion sounding just the first syllable in the next half. It goes thus – ta – dhi - / ta - - -.

Hamsadhwani returns in the second half and a close observation suggests that the lines are the same as that of the second and third lines of the Pallavi, except that these are in the next octave.

Laya Raaja does it again in the second interlude. The Pallavi is sung again first by Vani Jayaram and then by SPB. When he finishes ‘MaaRuma’, the taLa cycle is on the third beat. The bass strings take over and play ‘ta ki ta’ for each beat and this happens seven times. The eighth time is the samam and it plays just ‘ta ki ta’ and moves away. Note that 3x8 = 24, which is divisible both by 3 and 4.

With finesse the flute goes on, interjected now and then by the electric guitar. The banter between the two is tantalisingly beautiful. The strings take over and like a clear stream, move on..

Time rolls on.

Time stands still.

Paradox? There lies the beauty of Life!

P.S. This post is written on the occasion of the 11th anniversary of the Group, 'ILaiyaraaja - The Master' on Facebook.

ILaiyaraaja – The Refulgent Musician

 

What gives us happiness?

What gives us a sense of joy?

What gives us bliss?

I know this is subjective as each one has his/her own list of things, but not many things can equal this.

What is this ‘this’?

It is the sense of gratitude; the sense of being thankful to others and things; the sense of being grateful.

There may be hundred reasons for us to complain. But there are thousand reasons for us to be grateful. When we are thankful for what we have, what we do not have, disappear and become what we have.

Here is an example. The poet says he never had the sense to even worship. His heart was as hard as steel. Yet, he says his heart melted the moment he saw the One which is as sweet as the sugar cane, the One who resides in the place which is surrounded by the bee-humming groves, the place which goes by the name Thiru Arangam. He goes on to say that his eyes rejoice seeing Him and that the bliss can not be described.

 

விரும்பி நின்று ஏத்த மாட்டேன், விதி இலேன் மதி ஒன்று இல்லை

இரும்பு போல் வலிய நெஞ்சம் இறை- இறை உருகும் வண்ணம்

சுரும்பு அமர் சோலை சூழ்ந்த அரங்கமா கோயில் கொண்ட,

கரும்பினைக் கண்டு கொண்டு, என் கண்ணினைக் களிக்குமாறே!

 

If this ThoNdaradippodiyaazhwar finds it difficult to control his extreme amazement, the child prodigy who goes by the name Thirugnasambandhar, goes a step further and says that that ‘gentleman’ whose matted hair has both the river and the crescent moon and who lives in this eternal place called Brahmmapuram, simply stole my heart and I realised it when the beautiful bangles became loose and fell down.

 

நீர் பரந்த நிமிர் புன்சடை மேல் ஓர் நிலா வெண்மதி சூடி

ஏர் பரந்த இன வெள் வரை சோர, என் உள்ளம் கவர் கள்வன்

ஊர் பரந்த “உலகின் முதல் ஆகிய ஓர் ஊர் இது” என்னப்

பேர் பரந்த பிரமாபுரம் மேவிய பெம்மான் இவன் அன்றே.

 

The Lords the two poets address may be different; the wordings may be different; the expression may be different; the mood may be different. But what are common between the two verses are amazement and gratitude.

Amazement gives Gratitude. Gratitude leads to Amazement. And this is a continuous process.

It is an undeniable and ineluctable fact that great music gives us amazement and this in turn leads to gratitude.

Let us take the special song of this special day. When one listens to the composition, one is amazed by the way it sounds. But this is just at the surface level. When one goes deeper, one finds layers after layers and the simple amazement leads to great amazement which leads to the sense of gratitude which in turn gives that bliss.

What is special about ‘NandRi solla veNdum nalla naaLile’ from the movie ‘Chittiraiyil Nila Choru’?

It is based on a raga called Hamsadhwani. Can this fact alone make it special? It is used in its pure and pristine form. So what? Can this make it special?

Rather than answering these directly, let me choose to peel the layers and showcase each layer. Pudding, Eating and Proof. Do I need to say more?

Bubbling with energy and buoyant with joy, two flutes play together. Do they play the same notes? No. Do they play in a similar way? No. Notes from one flute goes in a spiral while the ones from the other flute moves horizontally. If the first mentioned is like a bumble bee, the second mentioned is like a sparrow. If the first one is a trill in western classical music parlance, the second one plays a sustained melody. Even as this is on, the synth guitar sounds the notes of Hamsadhwani with poise and the strings follow with finesse. All these combine together towards the end, to make us visualise a rainbow.

Well, this is just the beginning; that is, surface level.

What then is the next layer?

With the backing of the synth guitar, the female voice renders the Pallavi in Hamsadhwani, a raga with just five swaras- sa ri ga pa ni. We see the different permutations and combinations of this pentatonic raga in the Pallavi itself, which finally ends with the avarohaNa swaras- Sa ni pa/ Sa ni pa.

What is the next layer?

The twin-flute now plays in tandem, defining the two words- soft and supple. The tabla follows. The flutes appear again, but this time playing a different set of notes, that is, different from the previous melody, though both play together. After the sound of the tabla again, the flutes give way to two sets of strings, with one set playing a dominant role and the other set playing second fiddle, literally. With relentless assiduity and incontrovertible melodic power, the guitar continues the interlude backed by synth instruments. The strings and the flute combine again and take us to the CharaNam, not before playing that signature ‘Sa ni pa’.

As if to indicate for the nth time that listening between the lines is always preferable to reading between the lines, the flute appears between the lines rendered by Karthik and Priydarshini in the first segment of the CharaNams. And as if to show that apart from listening between the lines, listening along the lines is good as well, the strings play along the lines in the next segment. The signature ‘Sa ni pa’ appears at the end again even as the percussion takes a break.

Can a pure Carnatic raga have western flavours as well? This indeed is the next layer. The flutes play Hamsadhwani in western classical style with bewitching charm with the cello moving with an unearthly elegance. The strings follow and allure us with their grace and elegance. The guitar plays with sobriety. The strings enter again, but this time blending the East and the West, moving like a clear stream. The notes descend towards the end like the water falls.

Are these the only layers?

Well, we saw only the melodic layers so far. Isn’t it time to see the rhythmic layers?

Before I get into these layers, let me briefly explain the basic rhythmic structures.

Ta ki ta – Three – Tisram.

Ta ka dhi mi – Four – Chatushram.

Ta ka/ ta ki ta – Five – Khandam.

Ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi – Seven- Mishram.

Ta ka dhi mi/ Ta ka ta ki ta – Nine – SankeerNam.

The beats in a song are further sub-divided into micro-beats. For example, a composition set in 4-beats or 8-beats can be subdivided into 16 or 32 or even 64 micro-beats.

This song is set in the simple 8-beat aadi taaLam. Generally, composers divide this as just 4 and 4. But not this Master. He has used different combinations in various songs. But what he has done in this composition is something uncommon, something unique and something extraordinary.

He has divided 16 as – 4/3/5/4.

Now, the first half can be called Mishram but it is the reverse of Mishram and is called vilomam- Ta ka dhi mi/ta ki ta instead of ta ki ta/ta ka dhi mi. The second half is SankeerNam but this is again in the reverse pattern. Though there is vilomam in Mishram, there is no vilomam in SankeerNam as far as I know.

This is not the only layer, though.

The prelude has no percussion absolutely. Nor does the Pallavi when the first line is rendered. The magic starts after this.

The pattern – ta ka dhi mi/ ta ki ta/ ta ka ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi- is sounded by the percussion. But there is magic here as well. Only the first, third, fifth, eighth, tenth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth and the sixteenth are sounded leaving other beats blank. The blanks are called ‘ kaaravais’ in Carnatic music parlance.

In the first interlude, there is no percussion when the first melody is played. It is only the percussion then and this time it sounds ‘ta ki ta/ ta ka ta ki ta/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi’, and not the pattern played in the Pallavi. This happens twice after which the melodic instruments and the percussion join together.

However, when the guitar plays, the percussion sounds ta ka dhi mi four times, another variation.

The CharaNams follow the unique pattern again.

But again, the first part of the second interlude which sees the western contours, has no percussion. The second segment has the percussion but it is again plain ‘ta ka dhi mi’. For a change, it is played by the western percussion and not the Tabla.

The variation in the pattern is not in percussion alone. It is seen in the lines in the CharaNams as well. One sees – Ta ki ta/Ta ki ta/ Ta ki ta/Ta ka dhi mi- in the middle part of the CharaNams.

How many layers did you count?

Well, even I have lost count.

Amazement and Gratitude- Are these Countable or Uncountable?

Ask ThoNdaradippodiyaazhwar.. Ask Gnanasambandhar.. Ask Gnanadesikan..

If none of this is possible, just listen to the song!

PS: This post and the previous one in Tamizh were written exclusively for Geetanjali - 2025 and were read out to an invited audience in Chennai on the 31st of August, 2025.

ILaiyaraaja – The Raconteur

 

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 7^th Anniversary celebrations of ‘ILaiyaraaja- The Master’, a Group on Facebook, and was read out to an invited audience on Zoom on the 2^nd of October 2021.

Check this out on Chirbit

ILaiyaraaja-The Dexterous Musician..

How do poets and artists visualize things?

This is a question that is rather difficult to answer.

Some people in this world have an uncanny ability to not only think differently but also express differently and beautifully. They are imaginative, intelligent and of course innovative.

One night, the great poet Thirugnasambandar sees a pearl on the banks of the Cauvery river and starts wondering as to how a pearl could be found by the side of the river.His imagination –coupled with his devotion- runs riot.

He sings,

‘Wearing the poisonous snake as his belt and riding on the aggressive Bull, here comes He comes asking for alms accompanied by the daughter of the Mountains. His abode is Thiruvaiyaaru where the white conch swept by the waves and tides of the sea rests overnight on the dais made of sand and gives birth to the rich pearl.’

விடலேறு படநாகம் அரைக்கசைத்து
வெற்பரையன் பாவையோடும்
அடலேறு ஒன்றது ஏறி அஞ்சொலீர்
பலி என்னும் அடிகள் கோயில்
கடலேறித் திரைமோதிக் காவிரியின்
உடன்வந்து கங்குல் வைகித்
திடலேறிச் சுரிசங்கஞ் செழுமுத்து அங்கு
ஈன்றலைக்குந் திருவையாறே.

As usual, the poem carries very deep meanings and one can interpret it in many ways..We are born in this World but not realizing the purpose, while away our time with poisonous aggressive elements. If only we start realizing ‘who we are’, we can reach our destination and attain salvation. In simple words, it talks about the cycle of birth and death and says the Lord is the saviour who can put an end to the cycle.

Look at the comparisons: Snake, Bull, and the Tides (aggression)
And the contrasts: Dark Night, White Conch (and pearl).

But most importantly, look at the rhyming words and the imagination of the poet.

Even a very small object or an incident will become beautiful in the hands of such dexterous people.

We have been seeing, experiencing, enjoying and appreciating such beautiful pearls in the form of music. These pearls that are called as ragas shine as magnificent jewellery made by the hands of the dexterous artiste.

The composition we are going to see is yet another necklace of pearls and diamonds.
It is ‘Kaalam Maaralam..’ from ‘Vaazhkai’(1984).

It is based on ‘Hamsadhwani’ but the magician adds a swara in between to make it a totally different sounding raga.We shall see that later.

Hamsadhwani is a pentatonic raga whose structure is sa ri2 ga3 pa ni3 Sa/Sa ni3 pa ga3 ri2 sa. This classical raga is known to give a feeling of piety and is considered to be a very auspicious raga too.. That is why, one hears a lot of this raga during the beginning of any carnatic concert.

Let us look at the composition.

It is a clear stream of melodic sound as SPB and VaNi Jayaram render the aalaap-each singing different sets of notes- in a soft thrilling timbre. The graceful VeeNa follows them humbly while the lucid Electric guitar smiles bewitchingly.

The Pallavi has a pearly sheen with the raga sparkling like a diamond.

The stream of violins flow in the beginning of the first interlude. Some of them reach the high tide with a single stringed instrument rippling with joy.The keyboard travels through glides and curves with the VeeNa guiding it. Unmatched in spirit, the electric guitar undulates. The Violins now touch take a new path meeting the different waves on the way. The enchanting flute grabs the opportunity and we see the multifarious hues in a matter of seconds.

Meanwhile, the magician adds a swara- dha1- to make it a totally different raga.This raga, as per the raga text is called as ‘ThaaraLam’.The last part of the first interlude and the first four lines of the CharaNams follow this raga. It goes back beautifully to Hamsadhwani from the fifth line with a brilliant phrase ‘pa ni sa ga3 ri2’.

The chiseled phrases are a perfect blend of imagination and innovation.The gait also undergoes a change with a subtle change in the chatushra pattern.

The second interlude is built step by step. The electric guitar moves with punch and vigour.The melodically beautiful flute takes an expedition on full sail with the electric guitar travelling with it romantically. Enriched in musical content, the Violins take over in ‘TharaLam’.

It is plaintive. It is stirring. It is nostalgic making us relish every moment.

Times may change.. but will the beauty in his music ever change? Will our love and devotion for his music ever change?

காலம் மாறலாம்..அவர் இன்னிசை மாறுமா?
காலம் மாறலாம்..அவர் இசை மீது நமதன்பும் பக்தியும் மாறுமா?