ILaiyaraaja's Music - Pleasant, Beautiful and Brilliant

Sometime back, I had written in one of the posts that certain words in Indian languages cannot be translated into English. Even if one manages to translate, the charm and the real meaning of that word will be absent.

Take the word ‘manoharam’ for example. Can we translate it as ‘being pleasant’? If so, will it do justice to the original word? ‘Manoharam’ is something pleasant and beautiful. Is there an equivalent word in English?

Works of geniuses always have this manoharam.

In my previous post on ‘Koththamalli Poove’, I quoted a verse from Kamban. Here is a verse on somewhat similar lines but with a more spiritual and mystic content and meaning:

தேமாங்கனி கடுவன் கொள விடு கொம்பொடு தீண்டித்

தூ மாமழை துறுகல் மிசை சிறு நுண் துளி சிதற

ஆ மாம் பிணை அணையும் பொழில் அண்ணாமலை அண்ணல்

பூமாங்கழல் புனைசேவடி நினைவார் வினை இலரே.

‘The male monkey plucks the mango from the branch and the droplets of rain water scatter and fall on the rock. Assuming it to be the real rain, the cows run towards the garden to take shelter. People who think of the feet of ANNamalaiyaan-which is decorated with the flower-like anklet, will be free from all karmas. ‘

As I said in the beginning, the English translation may not exactly convey the beauty of the poem which is ‘manoharam’ personified. It has very deep inner meanings too with the male monkey symbolizing our mind full of impurities, the droplets being all our misdeeds, the cows symbolizing good and noble thoughts.

‘A noble soul can recognise bad karmas and misdeeds and attain divinity by moving away from these’.

I feel this is the crux of the poem. One cannot help feeling very pleasant after reading the poem because of the way the poet has described the scene.

This verse is part of Thevaram written by the child prodigy Thirugnanasambhandar, whose verses I have already quoted in many of my posts in this blog.

The music of ILaiyaraaja has that manoharam because it is beautiful and divine. His compositions also carry the stamp of brilliance because of the way he conceives the ideas-albeit spontaneously- and embellishes the compositions with his innovativeness. This is also because of his deep knowledge of classical music. It is therefore not surprising that each and every composition of his has a uniqueness which is unmatched.

The speciality of the song of the day is that it is based on a raga which incidentally has the word Manoharam. Did I say ‘speciality’? No, it should be ‘specialities’ because the song is special for more than one reason.

The raga is Gowrimanohari, which is the 23rd mela ragam.True to its name, the raga has that pleasantness which is as soft as an evening breeze.

Is it just a coincidence that Solaippoovil maalai thendRal from VeLLai Roja (1983) is based on this raga?

Let us get into that ‘specialities’ I mentioned.

Firstly, it is purely in this raga without any deviation whatsoever.

Secondly, the rhythmic pattern of the percussion.

It is a fact that he lays a lot of stress on Laya and is a Master in this. In this composition, the laya pattern itself is the leitmotif.

Let us see that first.

The composition is based on Chatushra Ekam- 1 2 3 4. As already explained in all my Laya Raaja posts, the beats are subdivided as ‘maatras’ and obviously will have to be the multiples of the base taaLam. Here, the Master first subdivides it into 16. He then gives the syllables as :

Ta ka dhi mi/ ta ka dhi mi/ta ka ta ki ta ta ki ta.

Then he assigns the instruments to play these and how to play these.

The percussion instrument to play the first four syllables, another percussion to play just the third syllable in the second part, a sharp sounding melodic instrument to play only the third and the sixth syllables in the second part. The Bass guitar will of course back it from time and time and the other melodic instruments will be simultaneously played. And of course, there shall also be phrases where I will stop the percussion.

This is how his mind must have worked while composing.

So, how do the syllables look now?

Ta ka dhi mi/- - dhi-/- - ta - - ta - - - - -

As already mentioned, this runs as the leitmotif almost throughout the song giving it a very special colour.

Let us now look at the composition as a whole.

Clothed in mellifluous warmth, the keys -backed by the sympathetic strings, subtle drums and the Bass Guitar- move at a steady pace. After 3 aavartanaas, the strings join and move with a splendour. This goes on for the next 4 aavartanaas after which the magic starts. Here too, the brilliant composer gives variations. The flute and the stringed instrument(santoor?) alternately play during each aavratana of the leit motif. Finally, the stringed instrument plays the aarohaNa of Gowrimanohari leading us to the Pallavi.

We hear only the upper Sa during the first four phrases in the first two lines. In the last line, we see pa and ma, ma and ga, ga and ri pairing together to draw a beautiful sketch of the raga.

The Flute in the beginning of the first interlude plays with an aesthetic solicitude. That the echo and fading effect is not given using any sound technology but is still ‘sound’ shows the genius of the composer yet again. The Bass Guitar in the background and the drums at the end of this Flute- section add to the glory. The leitmotif starts now and the guitar plays with a sense of poignancy. The strings reply rather soberly too. After 6 aavartanaas, the strings take over with exuberance with the Flute giving the ‘jawabs’ to the ‘savaals’ posed by them. It is lilting and graceful. The keys produce the bells sound and the strings nod their heads in appreciation.

The first 2 lines of the CharaNams have the avarohaNa swaras only. The following 4 lines too almost have the avarohaNa pattern except for the two phrases in the end of each line. The higher octave notes -Sa Ri Ga - appear in the next two lines even as these lines go on the ascent. The last ‘la la la la’ is a masterstroke with Janaki singing the higher octave notes Ri Ma Ga Ri Sa Ga Ri Sa and SPB completing it with ri ga ma pa dha ni Sa Ri-the beautiful arohaNa of the raga.

The Flute and the strings interspersed between the lines in the CharNams are subtle as well as sumptuous.

The second interlude has varied sequences. First we have the strings playing what in WCM is called as March Music. After three aavartanaas, the prominent solo violin plays with suave even as the set of strings continue their journey. The keys then go with a bewitching fragrance backed by the leitmotif with the special music of the prelude(in the very beginning of the song) appearing at the end of each melodic line. The conspicuously thrilling strings join with other instruments and touch the higher octave.

The ‘pa pa’ in the end when the Pallavi is rendered and the postlude with strings and the bells are mysteriously charming.

Manoharam..

ILaiyaraaja - The Rasika

What makes poets and artistes unique?

Is it just the creativity?

Let us first look at this poem, a description of a scene in the Kingdom of Kosalam by Kamban:

சேலுண்ட ஒண்கணாரில் திரிகின்ற செங்காலன்னம்

மாலுண்ட நளினப் பள்ளி வளர்த்திய மழலைப் பிள்ளை

காலுண்ட சேற்று மேதி கன்று உள்ளிக் கனைப்பச் சோர்ந்த‌

பாலுண்டு துஇலப் பச்சைத் தேரை தாலாட்டும் பண்ணை.

‘Amidst the huge paddy fields, the swans lay their cygnets (the little ones) on the lotus flowers. Seeing this, the Buffaloes get reminded of their calves and grunt. Instantly, milk starts oozing out of their udders and the little swans drink this. Finally, the tadpoles sing lullabies to put the little swans to sleep’.

What do we see here? Great imagination? Wonderful description? Beautiful Tamizh?

Beyond all these, it is the poet’s appreciation of finer things in life which makes this unique.

An artiste/poet sees; feels; experiences; perceives.

They observe, comprehend and assimilate..

But finally, it has to reflect in their works.

In the aforementioned poem, Kamaban’s mindscape must have visualised a beautiful scene from what he would have seen in a paddy field. I am sure buffaloes feeding swans and frogs singing lullabies are next to impossible. However, the field with swans, buffaloes and frogs must have captured his imagination and inspired him to make his own beautiful poetic story.

Kamban- The Rasika of Nature.

A great Artiste/Poet is always a great Rasika.

Many of us know that ILaiyaraaja is a great photographer. His love for Nature and appreciation of finer elements get reflected in his compositions and make him a composer par excellence.

Now, imagine this. He is given the task of composing a song which will run as the Titles roll on the screen. Though I am not sure what the Director would have briefed him, I am sure the Director would not have suggested the raga, tala . At the most, he would have told him about a typical scene in a village and that the dhobis wash their clothes in a river.

The Nature Lover’s imagination runs riot after this. He first chooses a Hindustani Raag Jog which has the ability to give abstract images and give one a mélange of emotions.. He plays with the TaaL in the prelude. He starts the first CharaNam with a long akaara(long by film songs’ standard) and the second CharaNam with a short akaara. In the first interlude, he uses the  ‘Naaththu nadal’-planting  of seedling  - song without deviating from the raag and in the second interlude he keeps the sound of the washing of clothes as the rhythm!

The effect?

A terrific and immortal composition!

‘Koththamalli Poove’ from ‘KallukkuL Eeram’(1980) starts with a very subtle Jalatarangam and sonorous Tabla Tarang sounding 24 beats in the ‘mel kaalam’.

The Jalatarangam and the Tabla Tarang together sound 6 beats- ta ka dhi mi ta ka- and the Pakhawaj responds with 6 beats. This happens twice. By this time the sketch of Raag is clearly drawn.

The Jalatarangam then plays 22 beats (5+5+7+5) and also not only clearly sketching the Raag but also showing us the different colours of the Raag.

The percussion now responds, first with the Pakhawaj playing 7 beats followed by the Dolak which plays 5 beats. This happens twice. So, it is (7+5) x2 twice which is 24.Now, there is an extra 1 2 after this. The previous Jalatarangam section played 22 beats only while it had to be 24 to complete the cycle. The Mathematician adds that 2 here to make it 24 ( remember Tisram is a 3-beat cycle and therefore the maatras must be in multiples of 3).

It is the turn of Tabla Tarang and Jalatarangam but this time separately with the former in combination with the ankle bells sounding 1 2 3 4 three times and the latter combining with the Dolak to sound 1 2 3 four times. That is 3 Chatushrams and 4 Tisrams. This too happens twice making it 24x2.

Finally, all the three -Tabla Tarang, Jalatarangam and the ankle bells- join together to play the Chatushram in ‘mel kaalam’ 12 times to make it 48.

Jog, Tisram and different ‘Tarangams’-Glowing edifice of creative expression!

The brief Pallavi (with just 4 short lines) is soft and spirited in the voice of Janaki. The ‘yekaaram’ that follows ‘Poove..’ which lasts for 4 Tisram cycles is like the soft breeze blowing from the North- called as ‘vaadai’(வாடை) in Tamizh. ‘vaadai’ is used as a symbol for Viraha.

The first interlude straightaway transports us to the paddy fields (not of Kosalam but of PaNNaippuram) with the நாற்று நடுதல் (transplantation of seedling) song purely in Jog and following the Tisram though it is only the water which acts as the percussion. After 24 cycles of Tisram, the Flute gives a feather touch and goes on a circular motion. It then takes a glittering flight playing the ‘aaroh’ in the process. The magical bass guitar backs it. It should be noted that this is the only piece played by the bass guitar in the entire composition.

The charming Shehnai takes over with brief interjections by the Jalatarangam. The percussion in the first interlude starts only now (after 35 Tisram cycles). It is folksy flavour again with Malaysia Vasudevan singing ‘thandhaanane thandhanaane thannenaa’.

The first CharaNam rather unusually starts with the long ‘akaaram’ that lasts for 16 Tisram cycles. Janaki sings it with a unique elegance. The ‘akaaram’ gives the sublimated essence of the raag. Immersing itself in this beauty, the Tabla moves in keezh kaalam making us all sway. The other lines show variegated patterns with the sound of Santoor interspersed. The CharaNam ends with a charming sangati that goes in the ‘avaroh’.

We are now transported to a ‘dhobi ghat’. One never knew that even ‘dhobi ghats’ could be so musical. The clothes hit the stone for a count of 4 Tisrams. They then back the vocals (Malaysia Vasudevan) for the next 4 Tisrams, play alone for 2 cycles. This 4 and 2 is repeated again after which the vocals sing for 8 cycles. The clothes-stone finally sound for 4 Tisrams.

Rhythmic washing!

What follows is a cogent melodic progression. First the Santoor and the Jalatarangam play a short melodic piece. The chorus repeats it and adds one more bit. The Shehnai and Flute repeat the added bit. The chorus expands the melody adding one more bit which is again repeated by Shehnai-Flute. The chorus completes the melody adding a new ‘thandhaanaa..’

Exotic and conspicuously thrilling!

…like the white swans on lotus flowers drinking milk.

ILaiyaraaja - The Revolutionary Musician

 If I say Subramaniya Bharati was a poet par excellence, it is like saying ‘Rose is beautiful’ or ‘Jasmine gives fragrance’. 

At the same time, certain things even when repeated infinite times do not lose their value. On the other hand, the more we repeat, the more the value goes up.

Why was  Bharati considered a revolutionary poet?

He simplified Tamizh poetry by using simple words so that it reached the common man.

At a time when the Tamizh society was soaked in casteism and oppression of women, he had the audacity to not only question these in his poems but also did his best for these evils to be eradicated from the society.

His poems on India and the freedom movement spread like forest fire igniting the minds of the people.

Though all his works were special, I consider ‘Paanchaali Sabatam’ as very special. The reason is simple. He wanted to write something very powerful against the British rule and wanted it to be symbolic. Taking just one very important episode from the Mahabharat, he expanded it. Bharat Maata was symbolised as Paanchaali (Draupadi). Needless to say that the Britishers were Kauravas and the people were PaaNdavas. At least to my knowledge, no poet in the world has taken one episode from any epic and used it as a symbol. It gives me Goosebumps even as I write this.

In ‘Paanchali Sabatam’, the angry Bharati dominates the aesthetic Bharati. So much so that in a work which has 559 stanzas, only 5 stanzas describe  nature’s beauty. And the placement is perfect. PaaNdavas travel to Hastinapuram to play the game of dice and on the way, Arjuna- who for all practical reasons is considered to be a connoisseur- describes the beauty of the sky during dusk to Draupadi:

பாரடியோ! வானத்திற் புதுமை எல்லாம்,

பண்மொழி!கணந்தோறும் மாறி மாறி

ஓரடி மற்றோரடியோடு ஒத்தலன்றி

உவகையுற நவநவமாத் தோன்றும் காட்சி,

யாரடி இங்கு இவை போலப் புவியின் மீதே

எண்ணரிய பொருள் கொடுத்தும் இயற்ற வல்லார்!

சீரடியால் பழவேத முனிவர் போற்றும்

செழும் சோதி வனப்பையெலாம் சேரக்காண்பாய்.

‘Oh the one whose speech is as melodious as music! Look at the sky and see how the colours change-each one so different from the other. How much one may have to spend if such a spectacle is organised on the Earth. The beauty of the sun-who is praised by all Vedas- is in full glory!’

(I have tried my best to translate this wonderful verse. But it is always better to read the original in Tamizh!).

Like Bharati, we have another revolutionary living in the current era. If the former revolutionised Tamizh Poetry, the latter revolutionised film music. Since a lot has been said about this, I would prefer to move on to the main topic.

When Bharati wanted to write about getting India free from the foreign rule, he used symbolism. When ILaiyaraaja wanted to compose a song in a particular raga, he used a technique. He wanted to compose a song in Sarasangi (by mistake, he mentions this as Latangi even as his hands play the swaras of Sarasangi. Just a slip which happens to all human beings and nothing needs to be read into this. I have heard some people say ‘he does not even know the name of the raga’. Absurd!).  

He goes on and explains what he did. He took the gandhara (the swara ga) of Sarasangi as the aadhara(base) sa and composed a song. This concept is called as the Graha Bedam and I have already explained about this concept in many posts in the Orkut community.

This graha bedam on ‘ga’ in Sarasangi is something very special and I am not sure even if any classical musician has ever tried this. Please note that graha bedam is guided by some rules. Though one can try graha bedam on all 6 swaras, it may not yield a valid raga. One can at the most get 2 or 3 ragas (the exceptions being Shankarabharanam, Kalyani, Hanumatodi, Kharaharapriya, Harikambhoji, Natabhairavi. I have already explained about this in my post on ‘Vaidehi Raman’).

Sarasangi is in the Graha bedam group of Dharmavati and Chakravagam. If the ‘ma’ of Sarasangi is taken as the base, it becomes Dharmavati and if ‘pa’ is taken as the base, it is Chakravagam. This being the case, what was the Maestro talking about?

If the ‘ga’ is taken as ‘sa’, we get ‘sa ri1 ga2 g3 pa dha1 ni2 Sa’ which is not a valid raga. This is where the genius comes to the fore.

Sindhu Bhairavi is one raga which strictly does not go by and structure and the bhava of the raga can be shown by experts in just one or two swaras. Almost all the swaras can be used in the raga and the raga sketch is shown not by arohana/avarohana but by the way the swaras are used. The Maestro who is well adept with all these nuances makes the ‘new raga’ sound like Sindhu Bhairavi. I think saying ‘like’ is wrong. It is Sindhu Bhairavi by all means.

So, what kind of thinking is this? Let psychiatrists say that -that is if they know music or at least can appreciate music- and we shall focus on the composition.

A subtle Guitar sound is followed by a zealous humming by Uma RamaNan. With a shapely finesse, the Bass Guitar responds to the humming and the Lead Guitar taps on the shoulder of its cousin-the Bass Guitar- with a monarchic dignity. Impeccable and Instinctive!

The Pallavi starts like a luminous halo and is amazingly ruminative with the Guitar and the Flute taking turns to back the vocals. The special ‘train like sound’ is worth mentioning. It sounds ‘ta ka dhi mi/ ta - - - in the ‘mel kaalam’- the ‘-‘ denoting silence. This happens only when Uma RamaNan sings with the percussion appearing when SPB renders the lines in the Pallavi.

Do not miss the predominant ‘Arabic flavour’ in the prelude and in the Pallavi. In fact, it runs as the undercurrent throughout the song.

The beginning of the first interlude is another master act. The Piano appears from nowhere rather unexpectedly. The sensitive eloquence with which it is sounded is amazing. It sounds for 10 maatras , there is silence for 2 maatras and the  guitar plays the balance 4. The guitar then continues its journey energetically with the Piano intricately following it. After showing us some beautiful shades of the Dusk, the two give way to the delectable strings. There are two different sets of strings as often playing the counter melody with the Piano too peeping in now and then. The melody is full of vigour and is yet sublime.

The lines in the CharaNams have some cosy patterns appearing sequentially. The lines are interspersed with Guitar playing different sets of notes each time. It varies from being resonant to being subtle teaching us lessons in music as well as in life.

The second interlude is a concoction of combinations. Backed by the Guitar, the Flute plays in higher octave. The Guitar plays some fluid phrases on its own. What follows is stupendous with the rhythm Guitar and the Drums playing ‘Ta ka dhi mi’ sketching a unique melody in the process and the Strings showing a kaleidoscope of melody. The Brass Flute plays with great solicitude.

We are frozen in the Transcendental.

He defies logic… and yet is logical.

He innovates…and yet is traditional.

He breaks rules…and yet follows rules.

……Just like the Sindhu Bhairavi ragam!

Laya Raaja- 7

ஐந்தும் ஐந்தும் ஐந்தும் ஆகி அள்ளவற்று உளாயுமாய்,

ஐந்தும் மூன்றும் ஒன்றுமாகி நின்ற ஆதி தேவனே!

ஐந்தும் ஐந்தும் ஐந்தும் ஆகி அந்தரத்து அணைந்து நின்று,

ஐந்தும் ஐந்தும் ஐந்தும் ஆய நின்னை யாவர் காண வல்லரே?

அஞ்சிலே ஒன்று பெற்றான் அஞ்சிலே ஒன்றைத் தாவி

அஞ்சிலே ஒன்று ஆறு ஆக ஆரியர்க்காக ஏகி

அஞ்சிலே ஒன்று பெற்ற அணங்கைக் கண்டு அயலாரூரில்

அஞ்சிலே ஒன்றை வைத்தான் அவன்  எம்மை அளித்துக் காப்பான்.

What is this? Is it a word play? Or a number play? Or both?

The first one is from the Thiruchchandaviruththam of Thirumazhisai Azhwar and the second one is a Kamban verse.

Before we find an answer, let us look at the meanings first.

As per Sri Vaishnavite philosophy, the Lord governs 24 thathvaas. The great poet  Thirumazhisai azhwar poetically splits these  as four 5 s two 3s and one 1. The five elements comprise the first 5. The second 5 are the Gnaanendriyaas. The third 5 are the karmendriyaas while the fourth 5 has the subtle tanmaatraas. Ego, Mahaan and the avyaktam are the 3 while the single most thing is the mind. Finally, he says ‘who can unravel the mystery?’

If the Azhwar used the 5 to describe the mystery of creation, Kavi Chakravarti used the 5 to praise Anjaneya with just the five elements.

He was born to Vaayu, or the wind. He crossed the water - the Indian Ocean- taking the aerial route(aagayam), to see the lady  who was born to Bhooma Devi(the Earth), and set fire(  agni) to that place(Ashoka Vanam in Lanka).

The world revolves around numbers. Our life revolves around numbers. Is there anything in this world which is not governed by the numbers? Time, Place, Event, Procreation, Death..In fact, our life is a zero without numbers and there too we have a number. Now, all these apply to yet another thing in this world.

Rhythm!

Our life resonates with this. The ticking of the clock, the sound of the train, our laugh, our crying, our walk…in fact, scientifically it is proven that our body follows what is called as the circadian rhythm.

Numbers and Rhythm..Our life will be non-existent without these.

In the verses quoted, we saw that the numbers acquired different meanings when they were split. In the first one, 24 was split as 5,5,5,5,3,1 while in the second one the number 5 itself was used to denote a different element each time.

In Carnatic Music, numbers and rhythm are organised so well that not only do the compositions sound good but they also make us think and work, thus activating our grey cells. Our thinking becomes organised and our mental faculties are fine tuned. It is the meeting of the mind and the matter. Where the brain meets the heart.

That is why, the word Laya which in Sanskrit has multiple meanings like focus, togetherness, to cling on to something and peace, is aptly used to denote rhythm or taaLa.

In the previous six posts, we saw certain basic things and features of taaLas, the syllables and how a taaLa follows calculations and how the syllables are split .Most importantly, we saw as to how and why ILaiyaraaja is the true Laya Raaja with his imaginative, creative and innovative usage of the TaaLas and the patterns. We saw two different taaLas in the same composition simultaneously,  then one following the other and we saw how he constructed Pallavis and CharaNams using very unusual patterns.We saw the composition following a free flowing pattern and yet following a taaLa and saw how two taaLa patterns alternated very quickly leaving us with amazement.

The series comes to an end today with yet another special composition in another dimension. Nothing encapsulates and articulates Laya better than the classical dance in our system. Therefore, it will not be a surprise if the special song of the day is a dance composition of his.

The song ‘Naatya Kalaapam Navarasa Roopam’ from the Telugu film ‘Kunti Putrudu’ is one of his many classical dance songs which uses the dance syllables in accordance with the classical art and where the syllables are split and calculations done adhering to the rules of Carnatic Music.

The composition follows the 8-beat aadi taaLam and starts with the mridangam and the ankle bell drawing some beautiful patterns for 4 aavartanaas.

The Pallavi starts with the mridangam pausing for a moment and then playing ‘ta ri ki ta taam’ in the mel kaalam thrice and then continuing with the ‘ta ka dhi mi’ following the words.

In the first interlude, the dance syllables are uttered and are split thus:

Thajjonutha thathimitha tajjam is ta ka ta ki  ta/ta ka ta ki  ta/ta ka dhi mi-that is 2 khandams and one chatushram.. Therefore we have 5+5+4 which is equal to 14. To complete this half avartanaa, there is a pause for 2 maatras and this completes the 16.The orchestra repeats the same syllables melodically and the aavrtanaa is completed. This happens twice. In the following aavartana ‘taam’ and ‘ta ki  ta’ are added as prefix to ‘tajjonutha thaththimtha’ without the ‘tajjom’ and this is done twice to make it 32 in one aavrtana.

‘thom tha ri ki ta ta ka ta dheem ta’ –that is 16 maatraas are repeated 4 times and therefore we have 64 maatras in the next aavartana.

In the following aavartanaa which completes the teermaanam, we have ‘thom thari ki  ta ta ka taa’ twice and ‘thom ta ri ki ta ta ka’ once in the first half-which is 12+12+8 and in the next half ‘thom ta ri ki  ta ta ka taa’ thrice making it 36. Now, it is 32+36 which is 68 while as per simple arithmetic it should be a figure divisible by 8 and therefore 64 only.

This is where the beauty and brilliance in a composition lie. The Pallavi starts in samam and until the last aavartana, all calculations are from samam to samam. But here, the first line of the first CharaNam ‘Aadi umapati’ starts in the second beat of the taaLam and the first beat has the ‘taaa’ which is a count of 4 in mel kaalam!

The first charaNam however ends with the last beat of the taaLam and the Pallavi when repeated again starts in samam as before.

The second interlude mostly has the dance syllables and it starts with

‘ta ta ri/ta ja Nu/ta dhi  mi/ta ki ta/ taam/ tadheem/ ta ki  ta/ dheem/ dheem’ which is 32 split as

4 , 4, 5, 3, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4.

This is repeated twice. The orchestra repeats this twice too showing how melody and rhythm go hand in hand.

The very brief swara segment follows and swaraas  are rendered in one full aavartana.

The next segment follows joyously..

First it is ‘ta dheem/ tatadheem/ ki ta ta ka/ ta dheem ta’ which is 3, 5, 4, and  4 rendered twice in one aavartana.

Then we have typical dance syllables which go as 4, 4, 4 in keezhkaalam and 8 in melkaalam at the fourth and the 8^th beats.

It is mesmerizingly magical from then on with the ‘na dhin dhin naa’ being used brilliantly.

In the first aavartana, this appears in each beat for 3 beats with the ‘thom ta ri ki ta ta ka’ appearing in the last beat making it 16.

In the next aavartana, which is the last one before the second charaNam, ‘naa dhin dhin naa’ alternates between ‘thom ta ri ki  ta ta ka’  and ‘ta ri  ki ta ka’ with a small pause for 2 micro beats before ‘ta ri ki ta ka’. If this is the first half, in the second half we have ‘ta ri ki ta’ 7 times. It is finally wound up with the ‘ta dheem ta taa’ with the last ‘taa’ again in the samam of the second charaNam. So, it is 32+36 yet again.

The second part of the second charaNam is structured differently and follows

Ta ki  ta/ ta ki  ta/ta  ki ta /ta ki  ta/ta ka dhi mi-3 , 3, 3, 4 for two aavartanaas.

The last line completes the teermaanam with ‘4, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 4’.

Let us now look at the melody part.

The composition is based on Hamsaanandi, a shaadava raga with 6 swaras in the arohaNam and avarohaNam.

The lilting veeNa and the stirring Sitar join together in the prelude followed by the violins sketching the raga eloquently.

The serenity of the raga is shown in the imkaaram of Chitra while its vibrant contours raga are shown by the Sitar in the Pallavi. The navarasa roopam towards the end shows all the rasaas of the raga.

With melody wafting all over, the first interlude moves with the Sitar, VeeNa, Flute and the Violins. The clear voice of SPB adds lustre to the already shining composition. The VeeNa and Sitar echoing the dance syllables with agility in Hamsaanandi in the second half speaks volumes of the creativity of the composer.

Both the CharaNams are woven with imagination and are full of entrancing classical contents with the melodic instruments repeating the syllables with grace and unsullied dignity.

Rhythmic aesthetics with fluent patterns…perceptively pervasive brilliance.

Magic of numbers. Magic of rhythm..

Magic of Raaja.. Magic of ‘ee laya raaja..’

PS: The previous Tamizh post and this post were read out to an invited audience on the 24th of Aug 2014.