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 4^th and the 5^th century, AruNagirinthar lived in the 14^th 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.

Rajendra Kumar · KaNNadasan and Vaali

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 Suseela) shimmer 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?

ILaiyaraaja - The Harmonious Musician

What happens when all the five senses combine together? Is there a fallacy in this statement? Is it not a fact that all the senses operate all the time for all humans?

 Yes, but these operate independently doing their respective duties as and when required. But my question is different. When all these combine together at the same time, what one senses will be different and is a unique experience difficult to describe. In fact, one even loses the sense of each organ. This happens during deep meditation. 

 One of the great poets in Tamizh, Appar-a.k.a. Thirunaavukkarasar, says something about the senses and let us see how it makes sense: 

 ஓசை ஒலி எலாம் ஆனாய் நீயே 

உலகுக்கு ஒருவனாய் நின்றாய் நீயே 

வாச மலரெலாம் ஆனாய் நீயே 

மலையான் மருகனாய் நின்றாய் நீயே 

பேசப் பெரிதும் இனியாய் நீயே 

பிரானாய் அடி என்மேல் வைத்தாய் நீயே 

தேச விளக்கு எலாம் ஆனாய் நீயே 

திருவையாறு அகலாத செம்பொன் சோதீ. 

  You are the sound, You are the Only one. 

You are the fragrant flowers(or the fragrance in the flowers). 

You are the son-in-law of the King of the Mountains.

 You are the sweetest(uttering Your name makes the words sweet). 

And you kept Your feet on my head. 

You are the radiance in everything. You are the eternal flame at Thiruvaiyaaru.

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 What I have given is the literal translation. But there is more to this than meets the eye and I shall deal with just some aspects. The very first line says ‘Osai’ followed by ‘Oli’. Don’t both mean the same? Superficially speaking, yes. Scratch the surface and you will find something more. In Tamizh, there are just a few letters which give meanings as stand-alone letters. For example- Aa, Poo, Maa- the first one meaning the cow, the second one the flower and the third one the mango. All other letters don’t give meanings on their own. And this is what the king of tongue(Naavukkarasar) means when he says ‘Osai’. ‘Oli’ is produced when the letters combine together. The esoteric meaning is that any sound-meaningless noise or meaningful sound- is You. 

 Moreover, in the temple at Thiruvaiyaaru( Shiva whose name is Panchanadeeswara), the western side at the third praakaara is called the ‘Sabda oli praakaraa’ and there is a small hole at the north west corner. It is said that if one places his/her mouth into that small hole and say something, the sound echoes and reverberates. Moving on, it can be clearly seen that the verse talks about hearing, smell, taste, touch and seeing- the five senses in our body. I shall stop here as the verse is deeper requiring further elucidation which in a way is beyond the scope of this forum. The bottom line- Five senses join together in a spiritual experience.

 Needless to say, Music is a spiritual experience as well, especially in the hands of geniuses. One such spiritual experience is the composition ‘Shiva Pujaku’ from Swarna Kamalam (1988). 

 The drone of the tanpura fills the ears, the heart and surrounds us. The bells sound twice in Tisram. The mrudangam sounds 'ta ka dhi mi ta –' four times(3 broken into 6 with the kaarvai at the end). Isn’t this enough to cast a spell? SPB sings the first line, first without percussion and then with percussion. The raga called Valaji gets sketched in the hands of the artiste now. SPB sings a line and the chorus renders ‘Siri siri muvva’(the bell on the anklet). The percussion which backed SPB remains quiet during the chorus section as if to suggest that after all, the anklets are as spiritual as silence.

 It is the turn of Suseela now and in a trice the complexion changes. This has to do with two things. First, the percussion instruments change though the time signature and the pattern remain the same. There are two sets of percussion, one sounding ‘ta ka dhi –‘ and the other sounding ‘ta ka’. As Suseela renders each line, the sitar sounds two notes in the gap and this seems like the crescent of top of Shiva’s matted hair.

 The second thing is interesting and it has to do with the meaning of the lines and in fact even the theme of the song. People who have watched the movie know that the protagonist (a.k.a. Hero) spots the beautiful dancer in the lady(a.k.a. Heroine). However, the lady does not want to be confined to anything and wants to be a free bird. In the Pallavi, the male voice hails the anklet, which he says blossomed like a flower for ‘Shiva Puja’, the female voice talks about the ‘ship of imagination’ which should not bow its head to the waves.

 Same raga; same tune; yet the mood is different!

 The violin plays with grace. The sitar responds with finesse. The violin plays again, this time a more nuanced melody. The sitar responds again, exquisitely but with a slight change of notes. This exchange of melody in the first interlude, gives some ornate and yet simple images of Valaji. Like the Godavari, the group of violins moves with elegance. The river then flows with ebullience finally playing the descending notes of the raga in a flash. 

 The lines in the CharaNams talk about the stars in the west which twinkle in the night and the brightness in the east, imploring the dancer in the lady to mould her heartbeats to make it sound like the Omkara. 

 The complexion changes yet again with the instruments led by the Shehnai and buttressed by the violins, turning folksy. What is to be noted is that the crux of Valaji is retained despite the improvisation.

 Beguilingly beautiful! 

 The CharaNam continues in the same melody in the voice of Suseela and it explores the wonders of nature and therefore the beauty of freedom. 

 ‘With the breeze of happiness guiding you, keep sailing. Let a new song and a melody wake you up everyday and let the moonlight drift alongside’. 

 The mrudangam and the ankle bells weave intricate jati patterns in two cycles of Adi taaLam. Five senses combine together. 

 You are the Sound.. You are the Fragrance..You are the Taste..You are the Feeling.. You are the Vision..

 It is the blossoming of the thousand petalled Golden Lotus!

PS: This post was written as part of the 8th Anniversary celebrations of 'ILaiyaraaja- The Master' Group on Facebook.

 
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ILaiyaraaja – The Mindful Musician

 

The propensity in human nature to either blindly believe things real or to refuse to believe anything is well known. Most of us see either black or white. The fact that there is something called grey eludes the human mind. This is less surprising given the fact that after all, human beings are designed that way. At the same time, we are also endowed with the ability to break this and the intelligence to see reality which leads to ultimate realisation.

I am not talking about theism or atheism which is one’s personal choice and which is beyond the scope of this post. What I am trying to bring out is the fact that blind faith on anything will do no good and is as good as not believing. This, in fact, is subjectivity at its best.

Now, look at this verse:

நட்ட கல்லை தெய்வம் என்று நாலு புட்பம் சாத்தியே

சுற்றி வந்து மொண மொண என்று சொல்லும் மந்திரம் ஏதடா

நட்ட கல்லும் பேசுமோ நாதன் உள்ளிருக்கையில்

சுட்ட சட்டி சட்டுவம் கறிச்சுவை அறியுமோ?

You worship a stone by decorating it with flowers and go around it chanting mantras. Can that stone ever talk? This is akin to saying that the vessel used to cook vegetables, knows the taste of the vegetables.

Well, if you assume that this was said by an atheist, you are thoroughly mistaken. This verse was written by Sivavaakkiyar, one of the 18 siddhars of the Tamizh land. A rebel who opposed the caste system, Sivavaakkiyar composed many verses with deep inner meanings. To go back to that verse, he says, ‘Can the stone ever talk when the Divine is inside?’

In fact, what is inside is outside and what is outside is inside. My idea is not to leave you confounded nor is it to sound cryptic. The relationship between the cosmos and the living beings is in fact a proven fact. On the face of it, can we live without the five elements- Earth, Water, Fire, Wind and the Space? Now, take the letters Na Ma Shi Va Ya. On the face of it, it just seems and sounds like a mantra on a God pertaining to a particular religion. However, each syllable pertains to one element- Na to the Earth, Ma to Water, Shi to Fire, Va to Wind and Ya to Space. NAMASHIVAYA also means ‘I bow to the inner consciousness’.

What is inside is outside and what is outside is inside. Within and Without.

This applies to Music as well. It is both inside and outside. When we listen to Music, it seems to be external. However, there is that Music which is always running inside us. When there is a match between these two, it strikes a chord. This is not dissimilar to the frequency match when we tune in to a radio station. Now, when there is a match between the external and the internal, we experience pure bliss. This is what happens when we listen to great musicians and composers. Needless to say, this happens frequently in ILaiyaraaja’s music.

On this special day, let us look at a song which is special as well because of many reasons.

The speciality of Koluvai Unnaade from the Telugu film Swarnakamalam (1988) is not just the fact that it is a ragamaalika. As I keep saying repeatedly in my posts, a raga is not as important as the way it is used. Secondly, this song was written by the Maratha king Shaaji sometime during the 17^th Century and this was part of an Opera which was even staged in the temple. ILaiyaraaja modified it to suit the situation in the movie. He also added Kuchipudi jatis.

The story of the movie revolves around a reluctant dancer who aspires for a glamorous life, the kind of life not possible if she became a classical dancer. That glamour and real art cannot thrive together is known to her, but the fact that an art form is much qualitatively superior to any glamorous form, eludes her. The song itself is composed as if to show her what real art form is and how it would look and sound.

Music, Expressions and Laya form the core of any dance form. And this is what the sloka from Abhinaya DarpaNa, a treatise on Indian Classical Dances, say.

The composition starts with the sloka from this text and as if to show how important these facts are, this is set in PantuvaraLi.

It is spiritual radiance all around with the drone of the tanpura permeating the atmosphere. The jatis are rendered with aplomb by SPB, just before the sloka. Kuchipudi is a dance form known for its fast jatis and the first two aavartanaas are full of fast jatis with no repetition whatsoever. The 3^rd and the 4^th aavartanaas show the grace of the dance form by slowing down the pace while the 6^th aavartanaa, which is also the last, has that teermanam. Is Mathematics not an art too?

The Pallavi and anupallavi in the mellifluous voice of SPB and Suseela give the ornate and the indescribable images of the Divine. Set in a raga called Latangi, which literally means the creeper, it says, ‘ The God of Gods is in a great assembly. Shining like a million suns, He is the enemy of the cupid and women get mesmerised by his form’.

The contrast cannot be missed here. He is the enemy of the God of Love and yet others fall in love with him!

The flute continues with melodic charm in Latangi in the first interlude. The mrudangam sounds with pulsating vibrancy. The finely etched melody of the flute traverses with an air of softness while the mrudangam sounds a fusillade of jatis.

Beauty of contrasts yet again!

There is a sudden twist in the first CharaNam as the raga seamlessly changes to Hamsanaadam. Hamsanaadam is a pentatonic raga and like all pentatonic ragas, it has a beauty of its own.

The CharaNam goes on to describe Shiva and says, ‘He is adorned by the bracelet of snakes on the wrist, the crescent moon on the head and the deer on the hand’. Contrasts yet again to the fore. Snake and the Moon are contrasts as well because it is eclipse when the snake consumes the moon.

Natana Laya Raga Raaja too shows the contrasts with Suseela rendering the lines and SPB rendering the lines parallely. The akaaram in Hamsanaadam is steeped in tranquility and is simple as well as intricate.

Hamsanaadam continues its journey in flute which wafts in and soaks the atmosphere with luminosity. Not to be left behind, the mrudangam sounds with panache, playing some powerful syllables with heightened resonance. It is indeed the monsoon showers from the heavens. Probably, manna from heaven.

O’Henry Raaja continues to enthrall in the second ChraNam by changing the raga to Dharmavati. ‘The gems sparkle and shimmer on the One who wears the tiger skin and who drives away the enemies with His Trident’, says the second CharaNam. Gems, tiger skin and the Trident/ Akaaram, Jatis and Sangatis – Contrasting words, Contrasting meanings, Contrasting sounds.

Contrastingly similar. Similarly contrasting.

And that is what Life is all about. Look for contrasts in similarities and similarities in contrasts.

You will realise the Ultimate Truth!

PS: This post and the previous post in Tamizh were written exclusively for the Raaja Deepam session on Zoom held on the 2nd of June 2021 to celebrate ILaiyaraaja's birthday. It may be noted that though both the posts are about the same song, I have taken two different perspectives.

ILaiyaraaja - The Rapturous Musician

Revelry is one thing which all of us love.

When we celebrate something, adrenalin rushes in, endorphins run around, serotonin jumps, dopamine dances and oxytocin smiles. The positives far outweigh the negatives and probably this is one of the major reasons for the existence of so many festivals in India-especially in South India.

What happens when we celebrate art forms and poetry? Wouldn’t this result in our aesthetic sense getting fine tuned?

But then, are celebrations and aesthetics mutually inclusive or exclusive?

This is not an easy question to answer. Celebrations can be gaudy, displeasing and distasteful. It can also be artistic, beautiful and creative.

Let us see how a great poet celebrates a very important and a significant occasion.

Rama and Sita get married at Mythila. Kavi Chakravarthy describes this Event with panache. Though there are many verses, let me just take 3 of these now.

First, the sun rise:

அஞ்சனம் ஒளியானும் அலர்மிசை உறைவாளும்,

எஞ்சலில் மணம் நாளைப் புரிகுவர் எனலோடும்,

செஞ்சுடர் இருள் கீறித் தினகரன் ஒருதேர் மேல்,

மஞ்சனை அணிகோலம் காணிய என வந்தான்.

It seems spreading it beautiful rays, the sun rises to witness the wedding of Rama and Sita.

Then, he describes the city and the people of the city.

அன்னமென் நடையாரும், மழவிடை  அனையாரும்,

கன்னி நன்னகர் வாழை கமுகொடு நடுவாரும்,

பன்னரு திரைமுத்தம் பரியென தெரிவாரும்,

பொன்னணி அணிவாரும், மணியணி புனைவாரும்.

Young girls and men adorn themselves with priceless pearls and jewels and the city is full of the auspicious plantain trees.

And finally, the wedding:

ஆர்த்தன பேரிகள், ஆர்த்தன சங்கம்;

ஆர்த்தன நான்மறை, ஆர்த்தனர் வானோர்;

ஆர்த்தன பல்கலை, ஆர்த்தன பல்லாண்டு;

ஆர்த்தன வண்டினம், ஆர்த்தன வேலை.

The drums reverberate. The conch reverberates. The veda mantram reverberates. The bees buzz. The ocean thunders. All these say, ‘Long live the divine couple!’

As I said there are more verses, but I have chosen just 3. Look at the contrasts in the first and the second verse. The first one describes Rama as ‘dark-hued’ and Sita as the one who lives on the lotus flower. The second one has the swan (girls’ gait) and the bull (men’s gait). The last one ‘sounds’ the percussion and the melodic conch. It also talks about the ‘bee’(which goes in search of honey) and the ocean(water)- symbolizing living and non-living things.

To imagine that even the bees and the ocean celebrated Rama’s wedding, calls for a profound aesthetic sense. And that is why, we celebrate Kamban.

If this was a poet’s celebration and the celebration of a poet, what we are going to see now is a musician’s celebration. In the former, Kavi Chakravarty celebrated his Hero’s wedding. In the latter, Isai Chakravarty celebrates his hero’s wedding-his hero (or should we say heroine?) being music.

Through almost all his compositions ILaiyaraaja celebrates music and this is reflected in the output. So, what would have happened when he was asked to compose a song for a wedding sequence- a tribal wedding sequence at that. Wouldn’t that have made his creative juices flow and even overflow?

That oozing resulted in ‘Kanni PoNNu Kai Mela’ (Ninaivellam Nitya-1982).

The rhythm, the pattern, the use of apt instruments and a very special raga make us imagine the ecstatic state the composer would have been in, while composing this song.

To start with (and I am going in reverse), let us look at the raga. Theoretically speaking, SaarangatharangiNi is a simple scale. It is a shadava raga with 6 swaras in ascending and descending. The great carnatic music legend Shri.G.N.Balasubramanian, a musician known for many experimentations, once thought of adding a swara (dha) to a very popular raga Hamsanadam. The new raga was christened SaarangatharangiNi. Though it does sound like a Hindustani raag(a lot of resemblance to Shuddh Sarang and not without reasons), it has a unique charm.

ILaiyaraaja used it for the first time in this song(and some more times later on).

Shehani, an instrument (wrongly) associated with melancholy alone, has been used prolifically by ILaiyaraaja in very happy situations. This instrument is ubiquitous in this song (note that it is played in North Indian weddings).

ILaiyaraaja is known to for using very different instruments. In this song, he uses tribal percussion which plays the tribal beats.

And of course there is his most favourite instrument which is called as ‘silence’.

Let us now celebrate the song looking at the nuances.

It starts with the tribal percussion sounding ‘ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi’ for 2 aavartanas(taaLa cycles). The chorus hums now and isn’t this enticing? The dynamic melody matches the rhythmic intensity. It is the marriage between raga and taaLa!

As the chorus continues, we see the resplendent shades of the raga. It continues for 11 aavartanas with a special sound occurring at the end of every second aavartana till the 8^th and then at the end of every aavartana. This special sound which lasts for just one beat, shows how a subtle improvisation can enhance the mood of a composition.

The chorus touches the higher octave and twin-shehnai decides it is time to jump into the fray. It plays the first line of the Pallavi and then goes on. The bass guitar joins the percussion which by now gathers more momentum and intensity, giving a resonant beat at the third microbeat of the fourth ‘ta ka dhi mi’.

The subtle flute joins the shehnai for the last two aavartanas to play a part in the celebrations.

Suseela starts the Pallavi in higher octave. Not many songs have a start like this. There is pause after ‘kai mele’ with only the special sound appearing there. Malaysia Vasudevan repeats the first line and the chorus appears again after the second line, humming in a typical tribal style for one aavartana. And then there is silence for 3 beats after ‘KalyaNam’. Does this signify something?

As if to show the contrast, the male voice, the female voice and the chorus sing the next line boisterously!

With a willowy grace, the shehnai moves in the first interlude. But before that, the resonant percussion sounds ‘ta’ with yet another tribal percussion sounding ‘ka dhi mi’ rather gently. And this goes on for 2 aavartanas. But the beats continue in the same pattern in the background throughout the interlude- when the chorus sings ‘tam tam tam ki ta’ followed by a brief akaaram and then ‘tam tam tam ki ta tam tam tam tam’ for 4 aavartanas, when the flute plays a piece couched in winsome melodic language for 4 aavartanas and when a tribal melodic instrument joins hands with the keys mimicking the humming of the chorus.

The lines in the CharaNams are eloquent with silence playing a role here too. There is silence for a full aavartana after the first and the third line. The vocals(female in the first charaNam and male in the second charaNam) give a repartee in the second and the fourth line. The chorus joins after the fifth line, repeating the min singer’s lines. The last line rolls with musical intensity.

The second interlude is vivacious. For starters, the tribal instrument gives a gripping melody. The strings respond intensely with the percussion-which is intense as well- backing these, playing ‘ta – dhi mi/ta ka dhi mi’. After two rounds, the shehnai wallows in and moves with exhilaration. A host of shehnais and a couple of other instruments join now and then. As if smitten by this, the chorus sings with ecstasy. It is contrast again with the keys sounding with suppleness. The tribal/keys melody appears again and this time the chorus joins in giving the repartee.

Sheaves of melody!

Sun rays, priceless pearls, jewels, buzzing bees, thundering ocean..

Artistic, Beautiful and Creative..

 It is the Celebration of Life!

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ILaiyaraaja - The Aesthetically Imaginative Musician

While praying to Kamadeva to unite her with the Lord, the great poetess AandaaL does something beautiful, which can be called as poetic creativity at its best. In fact, all her 143 verses in ‘Naachiyaar Thirumozhi’ and the 30 ‘Thirpuppavais’, brim with beauty and  exude creativity, and are without a trace of doubt, ‘poems with excellence’.  In the past, I have quoted her poems in this thread and the verse I am referring to now, is just a sample.

வெள்ளைநுண் மணற்கொண்டு தெருவணிந்து

வெள்வரைப்பதன்முன்னம் துறைபடிந்து

முள்ளுமில்லாச் சுள்ளி எரிமடுத்து

முயன்றுன்னை நோற்கின்றேன் காமதேவா

கள்ளவிழ் பூங்கணை தொடுத்துக்கொண்டு

கடல்வண்ணன் என்பதோர் பேரெழுதி

புள்ளினை வாய்பிளந்தானென்பதோர் இலக்கினில்

புகவென்னை எய்கிற்றியே.

Oh Kamadeva! Ardently do I penance and beseech you,

Bathing in water courses in early dawn,

Decorate beautifully the streets with fine sand-white,

And also offer twigs-sans thorns, in the kindling fire,

Oh Cupid! Throw me unto Him

By your flowery arrows with odorous pollens

With nectarine driblets, inscribing Lord’s name,

Who in hue like bluish sea

Tore the beak of ‘Baka’ the demon!

What I find the most beautiful in this poem is the fact the she is considering herself as an arrow to be ‘thrown’ along with the Manmada’s usual flowery arrows.

Ingenious innovation or artistry?

Probably both!

Needless to say all geniuses share such traits. I have been discussing and analysing nuances and intricacies in ILaiyaraaja’s compositions to show as to how enterprising and ingenious he is. No two compositions are alike and even in cases where the tune remains the same, there would be some subtle changes or variations. Most importantly, he thinks out of the box and comes up with unique designs.

Now, take ‘Poo Pookkum Maasam Thai Maasam’ from ‘Varusham 16’(1989). It is a romantic setting with the girl accepting the proposal of her lover. To start with, the composer set it in Keeravani, a deep classical raga. In a way, there is nothing surprising about this, given the fact that this raga as a scale is the harmonic minor in western classical music and therefore is widely used in film music. ILaiyaraaja himself has used this raga ubiquitously.

But as I have said before, it is the usage that matters more than the raga. All said and done, KeeravaNi has the shadja, chatushruti rishabha, saadharaNa gandhara, suddha madhyama, panchama, suddha dhaivata and kaakali nishadha –as per Indian Classical or C, D, D#, F, G, G# and B - as per Western Classical- and anybody with some background in either of these forms can combine the notes and compose (nowadays, one doesn’t need even this as there are gadgets which will take care of everything).

How does he play with these 7 notes?

Let us see that. We shall also see as to how innovatively he has used the taaLa/percussion in keeping with the situation.

Probably, we shall see the second one first. The composition is set to chatushra eka taaLa- the 4-beat cycle. He breaks this into 16 micro-beats per cycle as

ta ki ta/ ta ki ta/ ta ka (twice).

The composition starts without an instrumental prelude. In fact, it has the vocals. Suseela renders ‘Pongalu Pongalu Vaikka..’ and the chorus follows suit.

Now, ‘Pongalu Pongalu Vaikka’ is one ta ki ta/ta ki ta/ta ka. Same is the case with ‘ManjaLu ManjaLu Edu’ and ‘Thangachchi Thangachchi Thangachchi’. We feel the deep seated rhythmic impulses as the resonant percussion sounds only the first syllable and the last two syllables, backing the vocals. As the first line ends, the percussion rounds off playing in mel kaalam(faster mode).

The following line also follows the same pattern in terms of the micro- beats(ta ki ta/ ta ki ta/ta ka) but there is a difference in terms of the percussion. The percussion instruments play all the syllables. As an additional bonus, the bass guitar too joins the party.

Creatively innovative!

The Pallavi in ‘anaagata eduppu’ -starting after the ½  beat- also has a surprise in store with some unusual prayogas. It starts with ‘pa ri ga’ and touches the lower octave ‘ni’. Most importantly, it totally skips ‘ma’ and yet gives the colour of Keeravani.

The flute and the strings which appear as an interjection between the lines is as mesmeric as ever.

If this is just the introduction, how will the main piece be?

Of course with more ingenuity and artistry- says the first interlude.

With power-packed vitality, three different sets of strings play different melodies vivifying the various shades of the raga. After 2 cycles, a single violin takes over and plays with unobtrusive continuity. The group of violins join this now and then subtly and majestically. It is tantalisingly beautiful.

What follows after 6 cycles is yet another magic. The sitar along with the tabla tarang, sounds

 ta ka ta  ki  ta/ta ka ta  ki  ta/ ta ta ta ta ta ta (5/5/6) .

To a discerning ear, it sounds like a veda mantra.

The sitar and the flute are then involved in a dialogue and this musical dialogue shows the grandeur of Keeravani.

The tenderly structured CharaNams have a plenitude of graceful movements and here too, the very sparing use of ‘ma’ cannot be missed. In fact, it is almost like a pentatonic raga with even the ‘ni’ making a rare appearance. Yet, it has the KeeravaNi flavour.

The bewitchingly beautiful flute in the second interlude plays the raga with repose, beautifully aided by the tabla. It is gentle; it is delicate; it sways. The chorus renders the humming with sedateness and the strings play the minor scale like a flash with élan.

‘Creativity is piercing the mundane to find the marvellous’, said somebody.

Here, music pierces us with flowery arrows with the nectar dribbling as droplets.

Isn’t this what is called as Artistic Excellence?

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