Monday, June 15, 2009

Valhalla and Ilayaraja

It's 11 in the night. I am about to make my bed. Mom and Dad are already asleep. I keep the TV volume to a nearly inaudible low. I go to my room to check if my laptop has been shut down. From the living room, the sound of guitar repeatedly strumming a set of notes emanates. From the Idiot Box. I know the tune. One whiff of the music and I know what's being played. I rush to the living room with the glee of a child rushing to meet its Christmas presents from Santa. The concern for my parent's need to catch some Z's vanishes in thin air as I accelerate the volume up. After all, even if they wake up, they wouldn't mind listening to this; I console the angel in me.

The Pallavi begins shyly, giving glimpses of the genius to come. Almost like a shy bride, singing for her in-laws and fiancee when they have come to her place to see her and judge her worthiness. Like how she starts coyly, but within that demure cantabile, she impresses them. The would-be groom expectantly looks at his father, who is overjoyed. The mother is unmoved, however is waiting to hear how the song unfolds.

The first line is simple. Has only 1 Swara. Anyone who randomly places the bow of a violin to a string in the middle would get the sound. 1 Swara. Only Sa. 1 Swara.

As the song plays out, the violin faithfully accompanies, giving an almost aching end to the otherwise cheerful lines of melody.

There is no fuss about the song. There are no layers of music. No fancy digital sampling. No unheard-of-instruments captured by a synthesizer. The beats don't beat down the lyrics. There are few instruments. The violin, the Veena, the flute, the keyboard and drums. Nothing fancy. For most of the song, they don't try to overshadow the singer. SPB. No one could have sung it better. Even if it were sung better, it wouldn't have sounded like SPB. And it wouldn't be the same song.

The interlude flows by. The Carnatic extends its hands to the Western in a dignified manner. Starting with the flute, it progresses to the keyboard till the violins take over. All the while, known only to the discerning listener, the background beats is provided by Drums! In an unassuming way, no grand Thani Avartanam for the drums here. And with that, a whole generation was introduced to the composer's brand of East-meets-West music in a subtle way.

In the semi-classical Charanams that follow, the music also pushes the lyrics into the frontstage. Few composers have been gracious enough to give an equal importance to lyrics in the song. As the Charanam reaches a crescendo towards the end, the lines become bolder :

"Kaigal idaithanil nuzhaigayil idaiveli kuraigaiyil
eriyum vilakku siriththu kangal moodum "

(As the hands clasp and the gap between the lovers reduces, the burning lamp laughs and closes its eyes in shame). Incidentally a similar imagery is used in the Charanams of "Nenjinile Nenjinile" from "Uyire".

Sample this in the next Charanam :

"Viyarviyin mazhailae payiraagum paruvamae"
(
In the rain of sweat that arises out of sexual tension, the youth gets fructified and harvested)
Bold lines for 1982. And till date, our lyricists keep harping around similar ideas about love.

Probably the only sore note about the song is its picturization. The beautiful melody is reduced to an amateur gymming session in the garden between the hero (a young Karthik, who desperately tries his best to save the choreography gone horribly wrong) and the heroine (a deadpan Jikki, Gemini Ganesan's daughter who thankfully disappeared after this film) who seem content playing Catch-Catch with each other. And that this was directed by none other than Sridhar, who gave us great movies like "Kadhalikka Neramillai" and "Kalyana Parisu" with great songs picturized beautifully, just shows us how bad a swansong a great auteur can get.

The song is "Panivizhum Malarvanam" from "Ninaivellam Nithya (1982)". I always have loved Ilayaraja. My early childhood was spent astonishing relatives with renditions of "Sundari Kannal Oru Seithi" (Thalapathi) and "Innum Ennai Enna Seiyya Pogirai" (Singaravelan). All this before I was 5. When I was 5, "Roja" happened. A.R. Rahman became the rage of the day. I was swept off my feet. Ilayaraja faded away into the dark corners of my grey cells. When I was in 9th Std, I heard this song for the first time. But I was so mesmerized by its beauty that I could only half retain its tune and its lyrics. So I couldn't search the song out in the net. Then 2 years later, in my 11th Std, I heard it again. And this time I made sure to note the first lines. And I got the song. It was an eye-opener for me. It opened me to a world of music beyond Rahman. It introduced me to the beauty of Raja songs. The songs were a brilliant mix of light carnatic music with glimpses of western classical and contemporary pop. For a guy grounded in Carrnatic Music, but thankfully without any shackles preventing me from having a myopic vision towards other styles of music, this was perfect. With "Panivizhum Malarvanam" I had found my Valhalla in the music of Ilayaraja.



4 comments:

Nishanth Krishnan said...

AWESOME POST. u could have written this for ishallreview. It would have gained more visibility

Ganesh said...

As usual, the ajay style. Nice one da. I dont think im any great to comment on ur writing style. I knew u had a liking for this song. U always used to tell me about this being the easiest song u got to play on ur keyboard :) But personally i wud hav seen ' Madai thiranthu ' as a song that characterised Raja better. Its the kind of song that i can compare with a 'konjum nilavu' of Rahman in Thhiruda Thiruda mainly because of the flourish of musical genious and a total disregard for anything else 'Puthu raagam padaithathaale, naanum iraivane' i think sums it up. But yeah Pani-vizhum is i wud say a Harris Jeyaraj kinda song. A feminine touch to the composition. It's quite non-characteristic of typical Raja compositions. U can feel the pride of a male lion roar in his songs. But there are very few that hav the feminine touch (or atleast i felt so) One is this one and another is 'Enda poovilum vaasam undu'. I would have included 'Senthoora poove' but for its shehnai type sound that comes in the second interlude. Thats very male-ish. Pani-vizhum is the kind of song u hear and feel its softness ( even in the presence of drums and stuff ) and u could say a lethargy (which is better expressed in the eternally dragging sax in Mandram Vantha - first interlude). Too much can be said, but afterall a genious is a genious. Its just impossible for one to imagine how could he possibly have given a 'Annatha aaduran ' and a "Podhuvaga en manasu thangam " and a ' Pani vizhum'. Rahman's songs , even if intro songs, the tune has been melody tuned. Its just the chorus and other synthesising that makes it the enthu hip hop. Im not taking the pappus and kuckoos but otherwise. So Hats off to Raja, and thanks to u for helping me revisit this honey of a song.

Ajay Srinath said...

@ S Ga: Thanx for the comments. Masculine and Feminine songs. Very interesting viewpoint.

Come to think of it, there is a strong feminine touch to Harris Jeyaraj's music.

Btw, did u hear Blue? I think ARR's gone too deep into the world of sampling and synthesizing for his own good. The lines of the "tunes" seem to be an excuse rather than the mainstay of the song.

I am planning a piece on Blue soon. But too lazy to sit down and complete it.

Shankar said...

Glad that you found Raja...he has enthralled so many for so long...

There are some good blogs that discuss Raja's music from a technical aspect...it's a treasure for any music lover

http://raagadevan.blogspot.com/
http://sites.google.com/site/violinvicky/home
http://geniusraja.blogspot.com/
http://rajamanjari.blogspot.com/

Enjoy...
Shankar