ILaiyaraaja – The Simple Labyrinthine

 

Things which appear easy, tend to become complex. Things which seem to be complex, turn out to be uncomplicated.

Are things really simple? Or are they seriously complex?

How do we then define anything? Are things definite or indefinite?

As if to give an answer to these complex questions, a poet composed this verse nearly 13 centuries ago:

  நின்றனர் இருந்தனர் கிடந்தனர் திரிந்தனர்,

நின்றிலர் இருந்திலர் கிடந்திலர் திரிந்திலர்,

என்றும் ஓர் இயல்வினர் என நினைவு அரியவர்;

என்றும் ஓர் இயல்வொடு நின்ற எம் திடரே.

 

He stood; He sat; He lay down; He wandered.

He does not stand; He does not sit; He does not lie down; He does not roam around.

Forever unstable; Forever stable.

 

Confusing? Contradictory?

Probably, yes; Probably, no. ‘Yes’ because it does sound complex. ‘No’, because this is how the Divine is.

Composed by Nammaazhwar, the four-lines define Life itself. Does this mean that Life cannot be defined? While I would prefer to answer this a little later, say towards the end, at the same time I would like to say that all great things have that duality and that once we see the duality, decipher it, comprehend it and assimilate it, Life gets beautiful. In fact, to put it the other way, we see the beauty in Life. After all, it is the way we see which matters.

These thoughts came to me while listening to ‘Nannu Nannuga’ from his most recent ‘Rangamarthaanda’.

For starters, it is based on a raga called Hamsanandi, a raga known for its classical contours. Secondly, it is fast paced, a quality not usually associated with that raga. Thirdly, the orchestration is totally in western style. There is a fourth factor too, but it is better that we see this a little later, not without a reason.

With bass guitar starting the proceedings, the akaaram in the voice of Gayathri starts on the third beat of the chatushram cycle. Generally akaaram does not follow time signature, but there are exceptions, this one being a perfect example. There is a touch of nonchalance in the way the bass guitar sounds and it adds to the experience. The drums join now and then even as the colours in Hamsanandi glow in the akaaram like a luminous light brightening as it charts a path.

With melody wrapped by the alluring swaras that are woven with silken threads, the Pallavi starts after 16 cycles of Chatushram. Rather unusually long, it sails like a ship on azure blue waters with the waves moving like the cradle and the silvery reflection of the full moon glistening on them. The ‘nidhamagari’ phrase in the end gives the quintessence of Hamsanandi, proving the fact that complexities are after all simple.

The enticing bass guitar takes over in the first interlude. It is beguilingly beautiful as the drums sound intensely and with an intent. The synth instruments enter even as the bass guitar sounds in the background and plays a tantalising melody. The bass guitar and the drums interject and does it seem tenebrous? Well, not at all. It seems like a bright light passing through a tunnel. Like a sudden lightning, the electric guitars glimmer and disappear. The keys play a soft melody. But there is more to this than meets the eye.

Remember the fourth factor mentioned in the beginning?

The keys play in Mohanam, a raga not usually related to/with Hamsanandi, but the key word here is ‘usually’.

The concept of Gruha Bhedam is complex. If one takes a raga like Hamsanandi, considers just the swaras- ni ri ga ma dha- and keep each swara as the ‘sa’, one gets the five popular pentatonic ragas- Madhyamavati, Hindolam, Suddha Saveri, Suddha Dhanyasi and Mohanam respectively.

So here the Master takes the ‘dha’ of Hamsanandi as the base and the raga gets transformed to Mohanam in a jiffy. The keys sound in Mohanam and this continues in the CharaNam. The third line reverts to Hamsanandi and this happens when the ‘ga’ of Mohanam is kept as the base. It is Hamsanandi all around till the end of the CharaNam even as the phrases follow the ‘ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ ta ka’ pattern.

Subtle and powerful. This is how one can define the electric guitar in the beginning of the second interlude. Covering the entire gamut of the raga, it bespatters nectar in its inimitable way. But here too, the fourth factor comes into play. Keeping the ‘ri’ of Hamsanandi as the base, the raga shifts to Hindolam- when its sounds the melody the second time. The synth guitar gets back to Hamsanandi and skitters through with a flourish.

With the Gruha bhedam just before the end of the second interlude, the second CharaNam straddles between Mohanam and Hamsanandi, the former in the first four lines and the latter in the second-half, but there is more to come..

Drenching us in a quick shower, the synth instrument plays a melody in Hamsanandi ending it in the swara ‘ri’. Keeping this as the base, Gayathri sings the swaras, and needless to say, it is in Hindolam. The swaras swing and rock touching the ecstatic realms of music. Just towards the end, it gets back to Hamsanandi, but this time without the swara ‘ri’, which as per Carnatic music, is a raga called Sunaadavinodini.

Hamsanandi, Mohanam, Hindolam, Sunadavinodini..

Same swaras, but different ragas..

Same colours, but different complexions..

Complex?

Nammaazhwar gives the answer!

ILaiyaraaja – The Avant-Garde Musician

 

Being innovative or creative is not just an art. Going beyond any stretch of imagination-literally and figuratively- beyond realms of possibility, sensibly with a sense of purpose is creativity. The process of creativity is an experience by itself and can hardly be put in words. One has to experience it to fully understand and appreciate it. In a way, it is like meditation.

Now, this gentleman looks at the sky, at the earth and then at the horizon. His imagination runs riot. Why can’t we possess all things that we see? Why can’t I grab the sky? –he questions himself. Will our efforts bear fruit at all? Will we give up finally? – he continues. And then he says, It is after all the Supreme Power-the Divine force- which is present in the sky, in whatever we see and in whatever we count.

கண்ணில் தெரியும் பொருளினைக் கைகள் கவர்ந்திட மாட்டாவோ?

அட- மண்ணில் தெரியுது வானம், அது நம் கைவசப்படலாகாதோ?

எண்ணி எண்ணிப் பல நாளும் முயன்றிங்கு இறுதியிற் சோர்வோமோ?

அட- விண்ணிலும் கண்ணிலும் எண்ணிலும் மேவு பரசக்தியே.

On the face of it, this may sound ordinary. But scratch the surface, start exploring and you will see a gold mine.

So many beings before him must have seen the horizon. But how many did even think of ‘grabbing’ it? Coming to think of it, ‘horizon’ itself is an illusion. We chase that illusion known in Indian Philosophy as ‘Maaya’ and give up finally. But the moment we see the existence of the Supreme Power and the fact that it is present in space, on the earth and in all beings, we realise that we go after things which are not real while forgetting that things which are real appear unreal to us.

One can go on and on about these 4 lines but this short summary is enough to show the genius of Mahakavi Subramaniya Bharati; and to give a sample of ‘creativity’.

Creative people set examples and lead the way for others to follow. They chart their own course and travel on uncharted path. They create a niche for themselves. Needless to say, ILaiyaraaja is one such genius.

It is not uncommon for music composers to use different ragas in the same composition. Called Ragamaalika, such compositions give one a taste of different ragas within minutes- at times within seconds. But what ILaiyaraaja has done in KaNNanai KaaNbaaya (Manithanin Marupakkam – 1986) is something unique and not tried out generally by normal music composers.

There are three ragas, with each one related to the other. In some of my earlier posts, I had written about the different swaras and their variants. Essentially, there are seven swaras with sa and pa having no variants. The other 5- ri, ga, ma, dha, ni- have two variants( I am confining my discussion to normal variants and not going to the concept of vivadi here).

 ‘KaNNanai KaaNbaaya’ starts in one particular raga. One variant of a particular swara is changed in the second charaNam and one variant of the original raga is again changed in the next CharaNam. Thus there are three different ragas related to each other in terms of the structure, but different from each other in terms of the sound and the mood.

The beginning of the composition sees Laya Raaja in full flow with the mrudangam -along with the subtle ankle bells- playing different patterns in tisram. It ends with 4 tadheenginnathom giving a stately edifice to the composition. It is precursor to what is in store.

Chitra starts the Pallavi in pure HindoLam with the sympathetic strings welcoming one and all with unbounded enthusiasm.

The violins and the flute decorate the first interlude with simple but powerful swaras in HindoLam. The melody unfolds with discernment and shines with radiance.

The first CharaNam is rather short but one sees some variegated patterns of the raga with the second line even touching the higher octave swaras –Ma Dha and Ga- not an usual spectacle one gets to see in film music. The akaaram after the first line is meditatively classical.

The second interlude sees a sudden transition- as far as style is concerned- to western music. The exuberant guitar moves with an unmatched tonal smoothness while the keys bend, jump, prance and dance without in anyway deviating from the raga. However, something happens just before the end of the interlude.

HindoLam is a pentatonic raga with 5 swaras in arohaNa(ascending) and avarohaNa (descending). The swaras are- sa ga2 ma1 dha1 ni2. Just at the end of the first interlude, the variant of ga is changed to ga3. In Carnatic music parlance, ga2 is SaadharaNa Gaandharam and ga3 is Antara Gaandhaaram. When this happens, it gives rise to a new raga. And this raga is called Sallaapam.

I have written and even spoken in many forums about this raga and how it was ILaiyaraaja who used this first. This raga is known by the name Surya in carnatic music circuits as coined by a carnatic musician sometime during the early ‘90s. However, as per the traditional raga texts, this raga is Sallapam and it was ILaiyaraaja who used this first way back in 1982 in ‘Thai Mookambigai’. This is anyway an aside but not irrelevant here.

Going back to KaNNanai.., the second CharaNam is in Sallapam. Note that the second CharaNam is different from that of the first CharaNam in terms of the structure too.

The following interlude goes back to HindoLam. The guitar and the drums give caressing overtones with the flute ambling with elegance even as the guitar keeps repeating the melody.  The keys move with spontaneous spirit and with an unmatched grace.

The next CharaNam sees yet another change. The variant of ni is changed (from kaisiki nishadam-ni2 to kaakali nishadam-ni3) making it Chandrakauns, a raag more prevalent in the Hindustani system of music.

Three different ragas separated by just small variants and yet evoking different emotions..

Are these separate or are these connected?

Are these like the horizon?

Wish we found answers to such questions.. and if we find the answers, we will know what creativity is all about.

 

Check this out on Chirbit

ILaiyaraaja- The Persipicacious Musician

Everything in this world is meaningful. If we cannot find the meaning, there is surely something wrong somewhere. No, I am not talking about difficult words and dictionaries. It is about each and every happening in the world and concomitantly in our life. The link between a happening and why it is happening is hidden most of the times resulting in our cursing everything and everybody-mainly things and people we don’t like.

But Nature’s Law is such that any effect is because of a cause. I don’t want to list out things here and just quote one example from Nature and move on.

In fact, in my post on ‘Aa KaNulalo’  (ILaiyaraaja-The Perspicacious Musician posted on the 3^rd of March ), I had said about the formation of clouds and subsequently quoted a Thiruppaavai.

Now, let me go to the next step in the process and ask ‘why does it rain?’

Even a school boy or girl will be able to say the answer: ‘Warm air turns the water from rivers, lakes, and oceans into water vapour that rises into the air forming clouds. As these clouds rise higher, the air gets colder, the water vapour in the clouds becomes very heavy  and therefore falls back to the earth as rain.’

This is of course basic science but can one miss the philosophy in this?

Water from the Earth comes back to the Earth after undergoing a process.

Now, for a moment let us see what happens if the law/rule is flouted (isn’t this common in our country anyway?) and the clouds decide to hold back the water?

The great poet ThiruvaLLuvar thought about this 2000 years back and said ‘ If only this happened, even the mighty ocean would lose its value’

நெடுங்கடலும் தன்நீர்மை குன்றும் தடிந்து எழிலி

தான் நல்காது ஆகி விடின்.

Though it appears to be a verse on the rain in general, there is more to it than meets the eye. Consider the Ocean as the Universe, the water vapour as great virtues and the clouds as people who have these virtues. 

If people who ‘have’, fail to share it with the ones who need it, the Universe begins to lose its riches and value. Then why blame the Nature for the calamities when the fault lies with us.

Here too, doesn’t one see the Cause and Effect?

People like ThiruvaLLuvar were however like the natural cloud which never fails to give back. ThiruvaLLuvar had talent in abundance. He channelised his talent and energy and composed 1330 verses solely in the interest of mankind. Since it was done with a determination and with a disciplined focus, the verses are still alive and are being quoted by people across the globe.

Though he did keep the verses short, he never compromised on the poetic beauty. He was flamboyant too and occasionally indulged in word play. But here too, he did it meaningfully with the result that not only was the verse meaningful but also it was beautiful.  The verse ‘துப்பார்க்கு துப்பாய துப்பாக்கித் துப்பார்க்குத் துப்பாய தூஉமழை’ is an example. Since I had already explained this verse in one of my old My Journey posts in the previous community, I am not getting into this now. All I can say is that whatever he did, he did it with a basis and for a cause.

Same is the case with ILaiyaraaja. With his abundant knowledge and natural talent, he has been consistently giving us some extra ordinary compositions and taking us to greater heights. At the same time, he has experimented with some new ragas- ragas not used by any musician- and has mesmerised us too. What is great about this is that he has done this with sound reasoning and with an objective.

For example, take the case of ‘Thogai ILamayil aadi varugudhu’ from ‘PayaNangaL Mudivathillai’ (1982). Most of you know the sequence in the movie. The lead character, a person with a great voice but without any recognition at last gets an opportunity to showcase his talent. Now, how should the tune be? In a raga considered to be auspicious? That is what ILaiyaraaja does. The prelude and the Pallavi are in Hamsadhwani. But hang on. What is that alien swara ‘dha1’ in the last line of the Pallavi? Is it an accidental note? Doesn’t it appear in the interludes and in the CharaNams as well? Then how can it be a case of the rather usual ‘alien note creeping in in a film song’?

What ILaiyaraaja has done here is something unique. The raga which has ‘sa ri2 ga3 pa dha1 ni3’ is a raga called TharaLam and is a janya of Sarasangi. There are no known classical compositions in this raga. The Master wanted to welcome the singer with the traditional Hamsadhwani first. He found his story to be unique (in a way reminiscent of his own). ‘So, why not use an unknown raga’, he must have thought and must have added the ‘dha1’. This in effect gives a mystic feel to the composition as a whole. He does not stop with this alone. He conceals some swaras in a piece in the first interlude and in a segment in the CharaNams to make it sound like another raga, a morning raga at that. After all, is it not a new dawn for the singer?

Let us look at all these now one by one .

The soft, sedate and the subtle Flute sounds like a cuckoo. The Guitar and the Bass Guitar move with pulsating weight giving a short pause for two beats in between before leading to the Pallavi.

The Pallavi is finely etched with the mandra sthayi(lower octave) ni3. and ‘pa.’ mingling beautifully with madhyama sthayi(mid-octave) swaras of Hamsadhwani. The Guitar piece appearing for just one beat at the end of the first and the second lines, sounds refreshingly beautiful. The change in the Chatushram pattern in the third line with the percussion sounding only the ‘ta ka’ gives it a different shade while the introduction of ‘dha1’ in the last line (kalyaaNam) changes the complexion totally.

The first interlude sees a melodic progression. The specially sounding Guitar sounds with precision. The percussion sounds ‘ta ka dhi mi’ in mel kaalam. Yet another Guitar sounds sustained notes with panache. And this rather funny sound appears four times-first as response to the powerful phrasings of Electric Guitar and later as a reply to the melodic Keys. The Keys then go on a trip with intuitive impulses.

A kind of magic awaits us then. The Flute plays the swaras ‘pa dha1 pa’ and have the contours of Bowli, the morning raga. The intense Bass Guitar welcomes this new dawn and then combines with the Guitar to guide us to the first CharaNam.

The CharaNams are inundated with rich, imaginative and innovative ideas.

The first and the third lines have the swaras of Hamsadhwani only while the second and the fourth lines go to TharaLam after the Hamsadhwani trademark ‘pnSGR’ appearing in the beginning..The first four lines are adorned with the stately Sitar. The fifth line is rather long but what follows then is magical again.

The following line has mainly the ‘pa dha1 pa’ ‘ga pa dha pa’ and ‘ga pa’ giving it the Bowli flavour yet again. The laya pattern is interesting too (as ever) with the Chatushram going in mel kaalam as

‘4 - - 4  6  4  4  4  4’ with the ‘-‘ indicating a gap.

The last line has 4 ‘ta ka dhi mi’ s in keezh kaalam with the swaras going as janta(two) in the first two ‘ta ka dhi mi’ s and as three in the following two ‘ta ka dhi mi’s.

The rhythmic mobility continues in the second interlude as well with the percussion alternating between mel kaalam and keezh kaalam first and then alternating between playing  and keeping quiet even as the rapturous Sitar plays some intricate phrases. The percussion maintains a stoic silence again when the Strings dazzle in Western Classical mode and shows up when the Sitar is back with the Strings playing just for one beat. It is mel kaala chatushram in full flow for 2 cycles. It suddenly changes to Tisram first in keezh kaalam (4 Tisrams-one per each beat) and then in keezh kaalam (8 Tisrams-two per beats). The Flute plays some leisurely oscillations to provide a contrast.

Cause and Effect- Is it melodic or philosophical?

It is for you to decide…

ILaiyaraaja-The Ocean!

‘The smoke from sugar cane bagasse goes up with fragrance and surround the place like dark clouds making the peacocks dance. Like a Sapphire on a Blue Mountain, You were reclining on the serpent on the great Ocean called ‘ThiruppaRkadal’ once upon a time. Now, you are inside my heart, Oh, the Lord of ‘Thiruvaali’!’

நீலத் தடவரை மாமணி நிகழக் கிடந்ததுபோல், அரவு அணை

வேலைத் தலைக்கிடந்தாய் அடியேன் மனத்திருந்தாய்,

சோலைத் தலைக் கண மாமயில் நடமாட மழைமுகில் போன்று எழுந்து, எங்கும்

ஆலைப் புகைகமழும் அணி ஆலி அம்மானே.

Thirumangai Aazhwar-about whom I had written in my post titled ‘ILaiyaraaja’s Music is Eternal’ while describing the song ‘Oru kaNam’- was a genius par excellence. He composed more than of 1200 paasurams out of the 4000 paasurams composed by the 12 Aazhwars. His works are considered to be the 6 angaas of the 4 vedas(note that Nammazhwaar’s works Thiruviruththam, Thiruvaasiriyam, Periya Thiruvantaadi and Thiruvaaymozhi, are considered to be the essence of the 4 vedas.

This gentleman was born as ‘Kaliyan’ in a tribal family in a small village called ‘Thirukkuraiyalur’ but went on to become one of the most learned during his period(8^th Century). He is also called as ‘Parakkalan’ (one who is beyond time) and ‘NaRkavi’ (a great poet). His verses sound simple but are very deep and enjoyable.

The verse quoted in the beginning stands testimony to his genius.  The concept of Maaya is explained in just one line by saying that the peacocks dance assuming the ‘fragrant smoke’ to be the real clouds. The rebel that he is, he also takes liberty with the Lord saying ‘Once you were in the PaaRkadal’, but now You are in my heart’.  Very deep meanings and open to interpretations.

If one ignores the spiritual angle, the poem still sounds great what with the description of the dance of the peacocks, the fragrant smoke from sugar canes and the Blue gem on the Blue mountain.

Of course, this is just a small drop from the Ocean called as ‘Thirumangai aazhwar’.

As you all know ILaiyaraaja’s music too is like an Ocean. The more one immerses into it, the more gems one discovers. Most importantly, one discovers new dimensions and gets new meanings from the gems already seen (heard)..

‘Saagara Sangamame’ from ‘Seethakoka Chiluka’ (1981) is one such gem .On this very special day, I am proud to present this beautiful gem of his. Based on Hindolam, the composition looks and sounds like a grand sea. The first interlude melts my heart while the second interlude where the raga undergoes a change by replacing one variant of a swara with another and where the instruments move with short pauses gives me goose bumps.

Hindolam- a janya of Nata Bhairavi and which has the swaras sa ga2 ma1 dha1 ni2- by nature is very romantic and as already mentioned in my post on ‘Sridevi en vaazhvil’, the pictorial representation of Maalkauns-as it is called in the Hindustani system- is Lord Krishna playing with the gopikas. But to bring the essence of this raga in film music without in anyway compromising on the classism or the melody calls for ingenuity and the Maestro comes up trumps as always.

The composition has a unique start.

The percussion sounds’ ta – dhi –‘. It is followed by ta ka dhi mi.It is then ‘ta ka - mi‘ twice and finally ‘ta ka dhi mi’ fully twice.

It follows the Chatushra eka taLam, which is a 4-beat cycle. The first cycle goes as 1 2 3 4 but only the first and the third syllable are played. In the one following this, all the 4 are played. How do we have two 1 2 3 4s in the next two cycles? It is because it is played in the ‘mel kaalam’(faster beats-double the speed of the two previous beats). Here too, in the first instance, the third beat is left as a gap.

Four variations in a matter of seconds!

The first line of the Pallavi now flows freely like a river ready to merge with the sea. The zestful strings move like the small waves even as the dazzling single violin and the cuckoo-like flute jump like big waves. The strings raise again followed by the dexterous veena. With the ‘ma ga sa’ and ‘dha ma’, we see waves of music. Or is it musical waves?

The Pallavi is in the anaagata eduppu starting after ½ beat. In the mesmerising voice of SPB, the entire Pallavi, that starts with the first 3 swaras of the aarohaNam(sa ga ma) has a succulent charm. In fact, the pause after the prelude and the ones after the poetic phrases-‘kalalo’,’ ilalo’- have an exhilarating impact. These and the ‘ga ma dha ni Sa’ of veena in just a matter of 1 and ½ beats and the subtle variations of Chatushram in the percussion give a moving projection of the musical value of the composition.

The caressing flute backed by the subtle guitar smiles in Hindolam in the beginning of the first interlude. A ‘Tarang’ of sorts ensues with the Tabla Tarang asking questions and the Jalatarangam replying with ‘ma dha ni’ and ‘ma ga sa’. The musical dialogue continues with strings that join with palpable fervor and the flute. The latter charts a graceful course of Hindolam smoothly and melodically with the veena nodding its head in appreciation and with pinpoint precision. It is now the turn of the Veena to ask questions to the Tabla tarang and the Jalatarangam which jointly answer with great flourish and élan. The tonally pleasing strings take us to the first CharaNam.

The first CharaNam is marked by exquisite expressions with the soothing akaaram with a matrix of dynamic sanchaaraas that last or 5 taLa cycles. The line that follows this touches the higher octave and is joined by the sweet voice of Suseela. The romantic musical meeting is complete now.

Or is it?

We get the answer in the second interlude. ‘How can it be complete without me’, it seems to say.

Starting with the aesthetic flourishes of the veena and the guitar, it is a journey into the realms of emotions. The coming together of Jalatarangam, ankle bells, veena and the guitar is scintillatingly brilliant. With fascinating fecundity, the strings replace the ‘ni2’ with ‘ni3’ and it is Chandrakauns now. SPB follows the strings and it elevates the ambience to stratospheric levels.

The strings get back to Hindolam.It is all sparkle and dazzle with the strings and veena  caressing us and taking us on a fleeting melodic trip which is interspersed with musical ‘slaps’.

The pause at the end says it all..

Waves of emotions give way to stillness..to tranquility..

Saagara sangamam..

 

http://www.divshare.com/download/24171075-579

ILaiyaraaja-The Phenomenon!

Before writing the great epic Ramayana, Kamban dreams about the kingdom of Kosala. And what a poetic dream it turns out to be..  While it will take pages to describe the different verses from this chapter called ‘Naattu Padalam’, let me just give one sample.

The women of Kosalam-as seen through the eyes of the poet- it seems were well read, well educated, rich, and most importantly independent. They welcome all their guests and feed them with sumptuous food. Therefore, is there any doubt that their progeny was great too?

பெருந்தடங்கண் பிறைநுதலார்க்கெலாம்

பொருந்து செல்வமும் கல்வியும் பூத்தலால்

வருந்தி வந்தவர்க்கு ஈதலும் வைகலும்

விருந்தும் அன்றி விளைவன யாவையே?

I find two words to be very interesting.

‘பெருந்தடங்கண்’ may mean ‘beautiful eyes’, ‘blissful eyes’, ‘eyes that reflect intelligence’ ‘eyes full of compassion’.. The very use of this word gives us a picture of women with pure heart, for is it not true that the eyes reflect the heart?

Look at his use of the word ‘ஈதலும்’- which means to give. On the face of it, it refers to the magnanimity of the women of Kosalam. But in the last line-which is the clincher-he says cryptically ‘what else will grow’. That ‘ஈதலும்’ now means to give birth to.

This brevity, poetic beauty and intelligence make Kamban the phenomenon.

While listening to many compositions of ILaiyaraaja, I am awestruck with his sensible use of ragas, brilliant orchestration and intelligent arrangement. Needless to say that he, like Kamban is a phenomenon.

Now, take this song, ‘Shreedevi en vaazhvil’ from ‘ILamaikolam’(1980). Based on that beautiful  raga called Hindolam, the composition is just one example of what makes ILaiyaraaja one of the greatest composers. Hindolam, a pentatonic raga which uses sa ga2 ma1 dha1 ni2 is a romantic raga but is also full of Bhakti. Contradicting?

In Indian tradition and poems, Bhakti and romance go hand in hand. Considering God as their lovers, the poets have written reams and reams of poems.

As per the situation of ‘Shree devi..’ the character tries to woo a lady by singing a classical devotional song(Godess Lakshmi is known by the name Shree devi). The Emperor of film music chooses HindoLam to compose this(he might not have ‘chosen’ in the literal sense since he is very spontaneous and has said time and again that he never breaks his head on the raga aspect and composes whatever strikes him at that very moment. But, as I have already reiterated in some of my earlier posts, the fact remains that he thinks at the speed of the light and the tune flows at the speed of the sound. Therefore, it is highly likely that the thought of this ragam crossed his mind at a lightning speed.

As regards the orchestration and arrangement, Traditional Indian instruments are used as a base but western instruments-including new instruments hitherto not used in Indian Film Music- peep in suddenly and say hello with a romantic smile. The composition is rounded off with a short and precise rhythmic calculation (called as ‘theermanam’ in Carnatic music parlance).

The composition starts with a short aalaap in the hypnotic voice of Yesudass. It is organic, linear, curved, virtuous and curvilinear .

Form and spirit of HindoLam evoked beautifully.

The Pallavi has an unusual start with the swara ‘ni’ which goes and joins the upper ‘sa’.It is a gracious exposition of the raga with the last line that has the ‘podi sangatis’(‘malar’) in the beginning, is rounded off with the arohaNam(sa ga ma dha ni).

With a touch of finesse, the Bass Flute moves with poise in the first interlude.It gives a mellow and pleasant lilt and smiles at Veena with a request to join.The Veena obliges and gives two very short repartees. The Veena in fact repeats the notes of the vivacious violins too, which join after the flute.

The first two CharaNams have the same structure, with each of the four lines being different.The first line with a profusion of ‘ma’ is clearly etched, while the second line with the elongated notes is lucid. The third line has a surprise with the sudden appearance of ‘ni3’ that adds a new colour to the composition. The higher octave notes(Sa Ga Ma) dominate the fourth line. The last phrase with the akaaram post-‘ponguma’ is melodically opulent.

In the second interlude, we see the introduction of the new instrument and the guitar. This instrument that gives a shrill sound somewhat like the chirping of the birds, follows the energetic violins.The guitar that comes rushing in is distinctively beautiful apart from beimg dazzling. The Veena and Guitar alternate with the former playing the end notes of that of the guitar’s. Finally, the Veena guides us to the second charaNam.

The third interlude and the third charaNam are played in the ‘mel kaalam’ and we see the Laya Raaja here.

The Violins follow the Veena that follows ‘ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dh mi/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ta ki ta’[(3x4)+ (4x3)]. This happens twice with subtle change in the sets of notes. It gathers momentum with the violins then being set to ‘ta ka dhi mi ta ka’ and the veena echoing notes in ‘ta ka ta ka ta ka’- again twice- and then the Veena going in ‘ta ka’ 36 times.

The third CharaNam brims with musical intensity with the melody rhythm romancing each other.

The repetitions of the lower ‘sa’ in the first half, the ‘ma’ in the second half of the first line and juxtaposition of Veena/ankle bells in between the first two lines lend a poetic intensity. The mid-‘ma’ combines with the upper ‘Ga’ in the ‘Ragam’ phrase in the third line making it a soothing experience(such an usage is called ‘Daattu prayogam’).

The mridangam plays 4 ‘ta ki ta’ after this, enticing us and preparing us to view a mini Laya spectacle.

The penultimate line that has the higher octave Sa, Ga, and Ma prominently is divided into small ‘maatras’ of 4,4,4/3,3,3,3 and the last line is divided as 6,6/4,4,4.

Melodically exuberant and Mathematically Mellifluent!

Music that blesses us!

நமக்கு அருள் வழங்கும் இசை !