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Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Down memory lane with Naadodi Mannan

Saravanan Natarajan writes:
In memory of Puratchi Thalaivar on his birth centenary, here is a ramble down memory lane with Naadodi Mannan:

Naadodi Mannan (22.8.1958/ Emgeeyar Pictures Pvt. Ltd)

When I was in Chennai in August 2006, a Tamil movie running to packed houses. The alleys leading to the theaters screening the movie wore a festive look. Gigantic digital hoardings dotted the landscape. Colourful festoons and flags rustled in the breeze. Garish lights lit up the halls. Frenzied fans thronged the venues and the police soon gave up any attempts to maintain a semblance of order. The air resounded with hysteric hosannas to the hero of the movie. To add to the hullabaloo, songs featuring the actor blared from strategically placed loudspeakers. Fireworks went off in regular intervals. Tickets changed hands on the sly for outrageous sums. And inside the halls, when the hero appeared for the first sequence, bushels of flowers descended on the screen… camphor laden lamps were lit…. coconuts broken to smithereens…. ecstatic cries and whistles drowned the dialogues… Fans distributed free packets of Pongal and sachets of buttermilk amongst the audience…

And if you thought I was describing the scene at some new release of a Vijay, Surya or Ajit movie, you are way off mark. The occasion was the re-release (after many years) of MGR’s 1958 blockbuster ‘Naadodi Mannan!’

And there is not a word of exaggeration in my report… There were serpentine queues for every show filling the theater owners with ceaseless wonder; “Even the release of a new movie of the top stars of today does not whip up such an interest!” gasped one of them. The record collections filled the distributors ‘Divya Films’ with glee. TV channels reported this astounding feat in their news programs. Analysts wondered if this interest was an offshoot of the success of ‘Imsai Arasan 23aam Pulikesi’, which itself was a hilarious blend of ‘Naadodi Mannan’ and ‘Uththama Puththiran’. Newspapers, both English and vernacular, covered the story of the release and remarkable success of this 48-year-old movie. ‘The Emperor Returns!’ screamed the headlines in even a normally staid and sober journal. Vairamuthu, Pandiarajan and Rajesh were spotted at Bharat Theater and they exclaimed that they had seldom witnessed such a grand opening. Vairamuthu recalled aloud his childhood memories of traveling by cart from Vadugappatti on long-winding dirt roads to watch ‘Naadodi Mannan’ at Periakulam’s Rahim Theater every day of its screening, and he remarked that he could perceive the same thrill among the crowds that were thronging Bharat Theater now! Indeed in this day when every new movie is soon available soon in the net, TV serials retain most people at home and only movies with spectacular visuals and special sound effects lure the public to cinema halls, the triumphant screening of the good old ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was enough cause for jubilation. And considering that the crowds consisted predominantly of teenagers, many of them born after the demise of MGR, this success seems simply miraculous! Verily, the magic of MGR continues to sway the masses decades after his death, and perhaps will continue to do so for generations to come.

There was a special show of the movie at Albert Theater to commemorate this event. Artistes who were part of the MGR era and fortunate to work with him arrived at the venue, smilingly acknowledging the enthusiastic greetings of the huge crowds. Padmini, who passed away a month later, was among the first to arrive. Sarojadevi and M.N. Rajam, who had acted in ‘Naadodi Mannan’, were present on this historic occasion and shared their memories of working in the movie. Both women lamented aloud the fact that Bhanumati was no longer with them to witness this joyous event. TMS, M.S. Viswanathan, SSR, Manjula, ‘Vennira aadai’ Nirmala, Rajashri, Rajasulochana and Chachu were among the other old-timers who watched the movie sitting amidst the rapturous fans of the Puratchi Thalaivar.

The unprecedented success of this screening in the city led to the movie’s release in suburban theaters of Chennai - history was repeated at Golden Eagle (Nerkundram) and Kannan (Cholapuram). In the months that followed, Naadodi Mannan’ was released in other parts of the state as well, and the results were magnificent in the southern districts. Unable to find seats, hordes of people sat on the steps and even on the floor and watched the movie when it was released in Madurai’s Chintamani Theater on 29th December 2006. Traffic came to a standstill on the 31st - being a Sunday, the crowds were simply unmanageable. At Jaya Anand Theater in Rajapalayam, fervent fans carried ‘Paal Kaavadi’ on 5th January 2007. There was a virtual stampede on 17th February 2007 when the movie was released at Deivam Theater in Srivilliputhoor.

Thus ‘The Wanderer and the King’ continued to celebrate their triumphant return; their stately sojourn continued all over the state…

* * * *

Circa 1956. One morning people woke up to find the front page of ‘Dhina Thandhi’ bearing two advertisements side by side that caused ripples all over the state- they were for two proposed remakes of the Modern Theaters’ classic ‘Uththama Puththiran’. This 1940 blockbuster was now suddenly in great demand- both MGR and Sivaji Ganesan were interested in donning the dual roles that had propelled P.U. Chinnappa to instant stardom. MGR intended to produce it himself under his Emgeeyaar Pictures banner. As for Sivaji, Sridhar spearheaded the movie backed by Venus Pictures. And in the end, it was Venus Pictures who succeeded in securing the rights to the story (itself an adaptation of ‘The Man in the Iron Mask’) from Modern Theaters and went on to make the movie with Sivaji Ganesan.

However, though MGR lost out to Venus Pictures, he did not give up the idea of playing a double role. Then there came an advertisement in the papers heralding the making of ‘Naadodi Mannan’, with an open declaration that it was being based on Anthony Hope’s 1894 novel ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’. The story traced the exciting adventures of the happy-go-lucky Rudolph Rassendyl when circumstances force him to impersonate his look-alike Rudolph V who is to be crowned the King of Ruritania. The story had seen several screen adaptations- in 1913, 1915, 1922, 1937 and 1952. The 1937 version starring Ronald Colman was the most successful one, with the 1952 one starring Stewart Granger being a faithful Technicolor copy of the former.

MGR had to face a hurdle here again- The advertisement had barely appeared when there came a rival advertisement announcing that Bharani Pictures had also embarked on an adaptation of ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’. MGR and Bhanumati spoke to each other, each of them requesting the other to give up the project. MGR explained to Bhanumati how much the project meant to him and confided to her that he had pinned all his hopes on ‘Naadodi Mannan’. Things stood thus and when MGR spoke to Bhanumati next, he told her that his story was not a straight lift of ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’ and if Bhanumati was contemplating a faithful adaptation of the tale, she could proceed with it, as his story would be significantly different. But here the unpredictable Bhanumati sprang a surprise; she said that considering how vital the movie was to MGR, she had decided to give up filming the subject. And going one step further, Bhanumati handed over to MGR a sheaf of papers consisting of the screenplay and dialogues written by veteran A.K. Velan for Bharani Pictures’ adaptation of ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’, so that MGR could use it if required for his ‘Naadodi Mannan’. MGR was filled with happiness at this extraordinary gesture of the doyenne.

MGR was indeed speaking from his heart when he had divulged to Bhanumati how important the project was to him. It was in 1953 that MGR first embarked upon film production- He was one of the partners of ‘Mekala Pictures’ that produced ‘Naam’ (1953). Desiring to get into film production independently, MGR, along with his brother M.G. Chakrapani set up a company called ‘MGR Productions’. Their first project was titled ‘Vidivelli’, to be scripted by M. Karunanidhi. However due to various reasons, chief among which was Karunanidhi’s imprisonment for participating in the Kallakkudi protest, the project had to be shelved. “MGR Productions’ was soon wound up and MGR established the ‘MGR Naadaga Mandram’ and took to producing and acting in stage plays. As the decade progressed, MGR was gaining in prominence with screen successes like Malaikallan and Kulebagaavali. It was then that egged on by his close confidants, MGR felt that the time was opportune to produce a movie that would catapult him to unscaled heights of stardom and ensure his popularity for posterity. ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was the subject chosen for this dream project. The newly formed company ‘Emgeeyar Pictures’ had a young couple holding the DMK flag as the banner.

Further, MGR was being entirely truthful when he declared that his ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was not a scene-by-scene adaptation of ‘The Prisoner of Zenda’. While at Calcutta in 1938 where he was acting in ‘Maaya Machindra’ (Metropolitan Pictures), MGR had watched the movie adaptation of Justin Huntly McCarthy’s stage play ‘If I Were King’. Starring Ronald Colman as the poet Francois Villon who gets an opportunity to rule as Grand Constable of France for a week, the movie and its catchy title made a lasting impact on MGR. Another English movie that MGR found inspiring was ‘Viva Zapata’ (1952). Marlon Brando playing the role of Mexican revolutionary Emilinao Zapata who defies the tyrant president Porfirio Diaz stirred MGR’s imagination to great lengths. MGR made his crew consisting of R.M. Veerappan, Vidwan V. Lakshmanan and S.K.T. Sami watch the three English movies and gave them his suggestions regarding the outline he had in mind. Several brainstorming sessions later, the team came up with an imaginative admixture of the three stories, tailoring it skillfully to suit the Indian context.

* * * *

Ratnapuri. A small kingdom besieged by manifold troubles. The King’s only daughter is kidnapped and the King dies without naming any successor. Marthandan, a member of the royal family is chosen by the majority of the imperial council, including the ministers and the commander-in-chief, to be the new ruler. The crafty Rajaguru, however, has different ideas. Unknown to anyone, he has the princess Ratna in his custody in an island. She has grown up completely unaware of her ancestry. Meanwhile the Rajaguru schemes to do away with Marthandan and put up his stooge Pingalan as the King. He then plans to marry Ratna himself, do away with Pingalan and declare himself the ruler. Meanwhile Veerabagu, the loyal bodyguard of the erstwhile King, and his gang of committed people, including his son Bhoopathi and daughter Madana are furious at an outsider ascending the throne. Elsewhere in the kingdom, people are far from happy. Shortage of food and unemployment are rampant all around. Violent protests erupt all over the kingdom, and the protesters led by the revolutionary Veerangan march to the palace condemning the monarchy and demanding democracy.


Veerangan is arrested and imprisoned. Madana is also incarcerated in the same prison on a similar charge. They are pardoned and released on the occasion of the coronation of Marthandan. They travel together from Naganathapuram to Ratnapuri. Sharing the same ideals and revolutionary thoughts, they find themselves falling in love. In the meantime Marthandan arrives at Ratnapuri, but the Rajaguru asks him to stay in an isolated palace in the outskirts until the coronation, citing the inauspicious placement of the stars. The twist in the tale comes when we come to know that Marthandan and Veerangan are look-alikes. Veerangan is mistaken for Marthandan in a few tight situations and finally they get to meet each other. Veerangan speaks of the pathetic state of the poor and the oppressed and the noble Marthandan agrees to set right the ills as soon as he takes charge. However, on the eve of the coronation, the Rajaguru arranges Marthandan to be poisoned so that he could then seat Pingalan on the throne. Marthandan swoons after drinking a few sips of the poisoned beverage. The hastily summoned doctor does the needful and saves Marthandan. However, Marthandan is still unconscious and apparently would remain so for the next few days. The commander and minister persuade Veerangan to take Marthandan’s place to ensure that the coronation takes place as scheduled. A reluctant Veerangan agrees to do so in the interests of the state, and arrives in the assembly just in time for the coronation. The Rajaguru is taken aback and sends his men to investigate. The villains find the unconscious Marthandan and take him away to the same island where the Ratna has been living all along.

With Marthandan’s sudden disappearance, Veerangan now finds himself saddled with the role of the King for much more than just the couple of days that he had initially bargained for. He puts the opportunity to good use, and enacts several measures for the uplift of the poor. He is however troubled by the fact that he is deceiving the Queen Manohari who believes him to be her husband Marthandan. At one stage he is forced to reveal the truth to Manohari and perceiving his noble character, she accepts him as her brother. In the meantime Madana is killed by Pingalan’s men, and a grief-stricken Veerangan vows to avenge her death. Madana’s father gets to know of Marthandan’s whereabouts and passes on the information to Veerangan. Veerangan sails to the island and comes across Ratna. He identifies her by her unique birthmark and rescues her from Pingalan’s clutches. They travel to the cave atop a hill where Marthandan is held captive, and Veerangan succeeds in bringing him out. And at the end of the thrilling climax, replete with snakes, sword fights, flooding waters, collapsing rope-bridge and what not, the Rajaguru meets a watery death. All is well that ends well - Veerangan weds Ratna, and Marthandan issues a proclamation pronouncing Ratnapuri to be a democratic nation.

* * * *

This then was the interesting story that the ‘Emgeeyar Pictures kathai ilaaka’ drafted. “makkaL ellOrum nallavaragL thaan. vaaippum soozhnilaiyumthaan avargaLai engO koNdu niRuththugindRana…avaigaLai namadhaakki koNdaal naadu nalam peRum enbathai theLivupaduththa muyaluvathuthaan ‘naadOdi mannan’ kathai” said MGR in an interview during the making of the movie.

The movie meant everything to MGR and he invested heavily on the project. Justifying his decision to produce the movie himself, MGR said, “naan pala aaNdugaLaaga uruvaakki vandha uruvam idhu. enadhu vaazhvil oru thiruppaththai virumbi adhaRkaaga ikkadhaiyai thERndheduththEn. adhilum naanE direction poruppaiyum yetRukoLLappOgiREn. naan virumbuvathai en thozhilil seithukkaatta vENdum enbathu en neengaatha aasaiyaagum. oru vELai en viruppam thavaRaagavum irundhuvidalaam. ennudaiya aasaiyai niRaivEtRikkoLLavENdum enbathaRkaaga piRarudaiya paNaththai vaiththu sOdhanaiyil iRanga naan thayaaraaga illai”.

No expense was spared- MGR wanted the best and got it. The amounts that were being expended towards the project were simply mind-blowing. When he was asked some money to buy an additional coil of rope one day when the climax sequence involving the rope bridge was being shot, a frustrated M.G. Chakrapani is said to have asked if it would suffice for all of them to hang themselves with! The industry was agog with speculation at MGR nonchalantly putting all his eggs in this basket. His well-wishers were filled with anxiety, for if the movie did not fare well, MGR would be facing financial ruin. Commenting wryly on the title, MGR is said to have confessed that if the movie did well, he would be a King; if it flopped, he would be a homeless nomad. The movie was some years in the making. All dedicated members of MGR’s entourage were put to work night and day on the project. With characteristic foresight, MGR ensured that no other movie of his was released in 1958, so that his fans would wait eagerly for ‘Naadodi Mannan’ and ensure its success. His last movie immediately preceding ‘Mahadevi’ was released on 22nd November 1957 and his next movie after ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was ‘Thaai Magalukku Kattiya Thaali’, released on 31st December 1959. He put all other projects on hold, so that he could devote all his time and attention for ‘Naadodi Mannan’.

MGR had initially requested the brilliant K. Ramnoth to direct the movie, and the venerable veteran had accepted the offer with pleasure. But fate willed otherwise- K. Ramnoth passed away on 4th October 1956. Not wanting to give the responsibility to anyone else, MGR took upon himself the responsibility of directing the movie.

MGR acted in the dual roles of Veerangan and Marthandan, and brought subtle differences in his delineation of the King and the commoner. As the King, his stylish mannerism of running his fingers over his nose and snapping them with a sigh became immensely popular with the youth. MGR chose his co-actors with care. No else but Bhanumati could bring empathy to the character of the fiery, irrepressible Madana. MGR picked M.N. Rajam to play the dignified Manohari. And as for the guileless Ratna, MGR brought in Sarojadevi, the newcomer who had hitherto appeared only in insignificant roles in movies like ‘Bhoologa Rambai’ and ‘Thangamalai Ragasiyam’. P.S. Veerappa was the epitome of deceit and treachery as the evil Rajaguru, while M.N.Nambiar was dashing and dangerous as the unscrupulous Pingalan. MGR sent for old-timer K.R. Ramsingh to play the loyal Veerabagu. M.G. Chakrapani acted as Karmegam, the sidekick of the villains who undergoes a change of heart towards the end. Playing the comic Sagayam, Chandrababu punctuated the proceedings with sidesplitting moments, aided by G. Sakuntala and T. P. Muthulakshmi. Angamuthu was simply hilarious in the single scene in which she made an appearance.

Rumours are numerous concerning an apparent clash of wills between MGR and Bhanumati during the making of ‘Naadodi Mannan’. One account of the story is that Bhanumati was not pleased with MGR taking such a long time to make the movie and taking her call-sheet for granted. They had some exchanges over this issue. Another account has it that some mischief mongers carried tales to both them, resulting in a misunderstanding. The outcome was that MGR amended the story, bringing about the death of Madana and introducing Ratna into the proceedings. Some facts do bring credence to this hypothesis. The first is the almost abrupt exit of Madana from the story. Even her death is depicted only in surmise- Veerangan is seen grieving over the picture of a fatally wounded deer. The other fact is that Sarojadevi was originally called only to dance for the song ‘Paaduppatta thannaanlE’. The song had already been shot with Sarojadevi when MGR decided to make her act as Ratna. ‘Paaduppatta thannaanlE’ was then filmed afresh with a danseuse called Chandra.

Kannadasan and Raveendar wrote the dialogues, which were filled with powerful, rhetoric flourishes. The enlightening conversation between Veerangan and Marthandan, the eloquent arguments that Veerangan puts forth to convince the minister and commander that his responsibility would be meaningless bereft of authority, the announcement of the populist measures by the newly crowned King, the emotional highpoint when Veerangan reveals all to Manohari and explains to her his ideals and Manohari’s subsequent declaration that the entire country is looking up to him for succor were some of the scenes where the dialogues dazzled with brilliant analogies.

The latter portions depicting the happenings in the island were shot in colour. Cinematographer G.K. Ramu was dabbling in color for the first time and took care to ensure that the shots came out well. The colour reels were processed at Film Center in Bombay.

The completed movie ran for around 5 hours, and the editors had a tough job ahead of them. MGR sat with R.M. Veerappan and Vidwan Lakshmanan and after several rounds of discussions, decided which scenes could be eliminated. Arumugam was the editor initially appointed. But when he left after working for a few days, K. Perumal took over the responsibility. However, he too left midway, and finally it was Jambu who edited the portions shot in colour. Despite chopping off whole sequences, the final version ran to more than 3.5 hours.

Likewise, it was Music Director N.S. Balakrishnan who was MGR’s first choice to compose music for ‘Naadodi Mannan’. N. S. Balakrishnan had earlier composed music for some of MGR’s plays and also for the 1955 movie ‘Ulagam Palavidham’. Balakrishnan composed music for three songs and then S.M. Subbiah Naidu stepped in and set music for the remaining songs and composed the background score as well.

The songs were:

1. senthamizhE vaNakkam- TMS (Lyrics: N.M. Muthukkoothan)
2. thoongaathE thambi thoongaathE- TMS (Pattukkottai Kalyanasundaram)
3. sammadhama naan ungaL kooda vara- Bhanumati ( N.M. Muthukkoothan)
4. uzhaipathila uzhaippai peruvadhila inbam- Seergazhi Govindarajan (Lakshmanadas)
5. A multilingual chorus song- namma dravidarE kulagE (Kannada/ Jikki/lyrics by Vijayanarasimha), koodakkalla kimpuma (Telugu/ Jikki/ Narayanababu), dravidamaam(Malayalam/ Shanta P. Nair/ P. Bhaskaran), ending with varuga varuga vEndhE (Tamil/ N.L. Ganasaraswathi & Vaidehi/ Suradha)
6. thadukkadhE ennai thadukkaadhE- Chandrababu& Jamunarani (M.K.Atmanathan)
7. summakkidandha nilathai kuththi– TMS & Bhanumati (PKS)
8. paaduppatta thannaanlE- TV Rathinam (M.K. Atmanathan)
9. maanai thEdi machchaan varappORaan- Jikki & Chorus (PKS)
10. kaNNil vandhu minnalppOl- TMS & Jikki (Suradha)
11. kaNNOdu kaNNu kalandhaachu - Jikki & Chorus (PKS)

P. Leela and P. Susheela find place in the titles as well, but I do not hear their voices in any of the above songs. The three songs that N.S. Balakrishnan had composed music for were ‘senthamizhE vaNakkam’, ‘sammadhama naan ungaL kooda vara’ and paaduppatta thannaanlE’. ‘senthamizhE vaNakkam’, which is heard as the titles roll by was originally composed for MGR’s stage play ‘Advocate Amaran’.

The feet-tapping dances were choreographed by Thangaraj. The thrilling stunt sequences were conceived by R.N. Nambiar. ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was the first movie to list the names of all the stunt artistes in the titles.

The sets erected at the Vijaya-Vauhini Studious were of hitherto unseen scales of grandeur. MGR has gone on record appreciating the wholehearted support that he received from Nagi Reddy, and said that thanks to Nagi Reddy’s cooperation, he shattered the myth that only studio-owners could make movies with magnificent sets.

While filming the island sequences, many of which were intricate miniature shots, MGR received help from unexpected quarters. S.S. Vasan was closely following the making of ‘Naadodi Mannan’, and hearing of the MGR’s difficulties in filming the miniature shots, Vasan lent his expensive equipment voluntarily so that the scenes would come out well. It was said that it was the only time that any equipment of Gemini Studious was ever permitted to be taken out of the premises.

Another person whose invaluable assistance MGR remained forever indebted to was Director K. Subramaniam. When he decided to take the director’s mantle upon himself, MGR met K. Subramaniam and requested the seasoned director to oversee his work. KS attended one shooting schedule and was so impressed with MGR’s diligent approach that he said that there was no need for anyone to supervise MGR, and it would be unfair of him to take credit for doing nothing. However, KS continued to evince keen interest in the progress of the movie; it was KS who made all arrangements for many of the outdoor shoots, especially at Munnar and he even flew to Bombay to ensure a fresh supply of color film so that the shooting could continue uninterrupted.

And all the hard work, painstaking attention to detail and the prayers of friends, well-wishers and fans did not go in vain. Released on 22nd August 1958, ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was a runaway hit. The engrossing story with heartwarming socialist morals, mesmerizing dialogues, the double delight of MGR’s dual roles and the tricky shots where the two are seen together, enchanting visuals, the surprise of the color portions, electrifying stunt sequences, the hair-raising climax and the wonderful songs all contributed in equal measure to the movie’s success. MGR won the ‘Cinema Kathir’ award for the best director. The reviewers were wholesome in their praise. ‘kai thatti thatti kai valichchu pOchchu!’ declared Ananda Vikatan. Arignar Annadurai exclaimed, “innum pala kaalaththukku makkaL pEsakkodiya oru nalla padam”.

Karunanidhi wrote this ode to MGR:

“iyakkakkoLgai..ilatchiya viLakkam…
mayakkum madamaiyai koLuththum maargam
kalaiyiniR kaaNa seyalmuRai vaguththaar
aLavilaa pugazhai adaindhaar, uyarndhaar
aNNa thambigaL anaivarum vaazhththa
ponnaar viLakkena pugazh malai yERinaar”

A magnificent function was held in Madurai on October 26th 1958 to celebrate the mammoth success of ‘Naadodi Mannan’. MGR was taken in a resplendent procession from Mangamma Chathiram to the Thamukkam grounds where leaders of political parties and film artistes were waiting to offer their felicitations. Organizer Madurai Muthu called upon Nedunchezhiyan to present MGR with a gold sword. In later years, MGR auctioned the sword and presented the sale proceeds to the National Defence Fund during the Chinese aggression.

There are many more stories concerning the making of ‘Naadodi Mannan’. Suffice to say that ‘Naadodi Mannan’ was a landmark movie and MGR became the unquestioned monarch of mainstream Tamil cinema with this unparalleled success.

* * * *

Let us conclude this recollection with the magnificent song ‘Summa kidantha nilaththa koththi’

Veerangan has assumed the role of the King, and is about to enact several measures for the welfare of the downtrodden. One day he has a rendezvous with his beloved Madana. He tries to pull a fast one on her by disguising himself as an old man with one eye blinded and having a huge drooping moustache. He pretends to be smitten by her beauty and declares his love for her. Madana is repulsed at this lecherous old man’s advances, and in anger she tugs his moustache, only to find it coming away in her hands! She recognizes Veerangan and then there is playful banter between the lovers… they then take a ride in a cart through winding rustic alleys. Observing the men and women at work in the fields, their thoughts turn to the wretched plight of the landless labourers who toil so hard for the rich landowners…

summaa kedantha nelaththaik koththi
sOmbalillaama Er nadaththi
kammaa karaiyai osaththik katti
karumbu kollaiyil vaaikkaal vetti

sambaa payirai paRichchu nattu
thaguntha muRaiyil thaNNeer vittu
nellu veLainjirukku
varappum uLLE maRainjirukku

ada kaadu veLainjenna machchaan
namakku kaiyum kaalum thaanE michcham
kaiyum kaalum thaanE michcham

ippO kaadu veLaiyattum poNNE
namakku kaalam irukkudhu pinnE

She sings sadly of the misery of the poor, and he consoles her that good times are just ahead.

Pattukkottai Kalyanasudaram had experienced in person the untold miseries of the agricultural labourers in the villages in the fertile Thanjavur district, and the atrocities perpetuated by the wealthy landowners made his blood boil with fury. He vented all his anger in his verses. ‘summaa kedantha nelaththaik koththi’ for instance was written originally for the 1956 Pongal issue of the communist magazine ‘Janasakthi’. What did Pongal mean to the poor oppressed field hands, he asked in helpless rage.

maadai uzhaichchavan vaazhkkaiyilE
pasi vandhida kaaRanam enna machchaan

avan thEdiya selvangaL vERa idaththilE
sErvathinaal varum thollaiyadi

Pattukkottai Kalyanasundaram was working for MGR’s stage plays and writing lyrics for songs. MGR was intrigued by this brooding, intense youth whose thoughts were egalitarian and verses elegant, and asked him to write for ‘Naadodi Mannan’. Taking lines from his poem published in ‘Janasakthi’, Pattukkottai added lines offering solace and predicting better times -‘patta thuyar ini maarum kitta nerunguthu nEram’ to suit the situation in the movie. He finished with the prophetic lines, ‘naanE pOda pOREn sattam, podhuvil nanmai purindhidum thittam- naadu nalam peRum thittam’ .

When heated arguments were going on debating which sequences were to be eliminated to bring the movie to a reasonable length, it was R.M. Veerappan who was vehement in objecting to proposals put forth to remove ‘summaa kedantha nelaththaik koththi’. He said that the song had some scintillating lines and would become immensely popular. Pattukkottai and RMV were the closest of friends, they were even staying together in the same room in Royapettah at that time. RMV was proved right when the movie was released; the song struck a chord in all those whose hearts beat for the voiceless poor. And when such wonderful lines come adorned in an attractive folksy tune and sung by TMs and Bhanumati, its timeless appeal is but inevitable.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pt5GymW_eE4






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Monday, January 2, 2017

இப்படியும் ஒரு பெண்- Part 2

Saravanan Natarajan writes :

இப்படியும் ஒரு பெண்- Part 2

One morning, as Bhanumati sat stringing flowers into a garland for the daily worship, a stranger knocked at their door. He asked for Venkatasubbiah and when Bhanumati informed him that her father had gone out, the visitor introduced himself as an aide of film director Pulliah and said that he had come there at his senior’s bidding. Bhanumati had, of course, heard of the legendary Chitajalu Pulliah, the director of her favorite ‘Lavakusa’ among other movies.She invited the visitor inside and requested him to be seated and wait for her father. After waiting for a while, Pulliah’s assistant said that he would return the next day. And so he did; Venkatasubbiah was at home this time and the visitor told him the purpose of his call- Pulliah was looking out for a young girl to play a role in his forthcoming Telugu movie. His friend Govindarajula Subba Rao had told them of Bhanumati.


Was Venkatasubbiah willing to let Bhanumati act? Venkatasubbiah was taken aback by this unexpected offer. Not knowing what to reply, he told the assistant (who would in the future become famous as actor Relangi Venkataramiah) that he would think it over and let them know his decision.
We must remember that those were the days when the film industry was strictly off limits for women from orthodox families. While Venkatasubbiah had aspired to making Bhanumati a famous singer, he was not wholly comfortable with the idea of her acting in movies. And as for Saraswatamma, she was horrified at the very notion of her daughter entering the film industry and urged her husband to refuse the offer forthwith. However, they traveled to Rajahmundry to meet Pulliah at the Andhra Cine Studio. On hearing Bhanumati sing, Pulliah was highly impressed with her.

When Venkatasubbiah expressed his reservations to Pulliah, the latter laughed at his fears and said that they were wholly unfounded. “What worried my father was whether anyone would marry a girl who had acted in movies. Pulliah convinced my father that everything depended on how we conducted ourselves. If we were careful in our dealings, if we were strict, there was nothing to worry in the film world also. My father’s guru Mynampatti Narasimha Rao also advised us to take up the assignment, pointing out that his niece Tangaturi Suryakumari was already acting in films” reminisced Bhanumati in an interview. But was probably cinched matters was that the role that Bhanumati had to play had no hero as pair, and she would get to sing a few songs as well. And what were Bhanumati’s feelings? She was more interested in pursuing her studies and was highly reluctant to enter the film world, but acceded to her father’s wishes. Thus father and daughter traveled to Calcutta where the film ‘Varavikrayam’ was being made.

‘Varavikrayam’ (Bridegroom for Sale) was a successful social play by Kallakuri Narayana Rao that dealt with the issue of dowry. Pulliah based his movie on this reformist melodrama and bade the famous Balijepalli Laksmikantha Kavi work on the dialogues and lyrics. The story was of a retired government servant struggling to get his two daughters married. He borrows heavily to get his elder daughter Kalindi married to the thrice-married Lingaraju. Guilty at being the cause of her father’s travails and totally opposed to the alliance, Kalindi commits suicide. The unscrupulous Lingaraju refuses to return the dowry. Kalindi’s younger sister Kamala agrees to marry him, but after the marriage, drags her husband to court and secures justice. Kalindi’s death had not been in vain.

Bhanumati was to play Kalindi. Much to her delight, her mother’s role was played by Sriranjini (Sr), who had acted as Seetha in Lavakusa. On the first day of filming, Bhanumati fell at Sriranjini’s feet and sought her blessings. Daita Gopalam played the beleaguered father. Balijepalli Laksmikantha Kavi played Lingaraju. Pushpavalli was the heroine, playing the role of the avenging Kamala. The irony was that though being several years younger to Pushpavalli, Bhanumati played Pushpavalli’s elder sister! Bhanumati sang her first film songs for this film, and the classical “Palukave naa daivama, parulu navede nyayama”, okayed at the very first take, became immensely popular.


How was the experience? “Oh, I didn’t have much to do. Playback singing had been introduced by then, so I rendered the songs first and then went for lip sync. I was 13 years old at that time. My father was with me constantly and was satisfied that there were no heroes or love scenes in the film. Sriranjani was of great help to me during the shooting. And though the movie starred stalwarts such as Thungala Chalapati Rao and Dasari Kotirathnam, it was the portrayal of newcomers such as Balijepalli Lakshmikantha Kavi and me, which was well appreciated. But I did not really act, just moved about as I do in my house. Surprisingly, my acting won rave reviews, all for singing a few songs, shedding copious tears and finally falling into a well!” she recalled with a guffaw.

‘Varavikrayam’ (1939/ East India Film Company) was a critical and commercial success, Bhanumati was reportedly paid a princely sum of Rs. 350/- for her efforts and soon film offers came, one by one. Seeing fame and fortune come unsolicited seeking his daughter, Venkatasubbiah decided to let Bhanumati continue acting. “I was thus forced to act in my second film soon. Although I wanted to pursue my studies, I was not allowed to. Even today, if an artiste is good and successful, producers won’t leave her!” pronounced a thoughtful Bhanumati. Venkatasubbiah arranged for an Ustad to train his daughter in Hindustani music so that she may widen her repertoire. His only stipulation to the producers who approached him was that no male actor should even touch Bhanumati. ‘Varavikrayam’ was followed by ‘Malati Madhavam’ (1940/ East India Film Co.), ‘Dharmapatni’ (1941/ Famous Films) and ‘Bhaktimala’ (1941/ Bhaskar Films).

'Dharmapatni’, directed by P. Pulliah, was shot extensively in Kolhapur. A. Nageswara Rao made his debut in this film. “By then, I became accustomed to acting and the initial shyness had gone. It was during this period that Gemini Vasan asked my father to sign a contract for five years. My father refused the contract as he found great potential in these five years for me as an actress. Then came Haribhai Desais “Bhaktimala,” a film sans a hero and it was a big hit. I learnt dance from Vempati Peddha Sathyam.” said Bhanumati. And speaking of her dance lessons, Bhanumati was characteristically ruthless in self-assessment – she remarked that it must have been a black day for the revered Guru when he accepted her as his disciple, for her dance movements could easily be mistaken for a patient suffering from a particularly virulent fit of epilepsy!

Bhanumati’s next movie was ‘Krishnaprema’ (1943/ Famous Films & Star Combines). The film told the story of Radha’s divine love for Krishna. Shantakumari played Radha and Suryakumari played Narada. Bhanumati played Chandravali, sister of Radha. Bhanumati had some memorable songs (‘Ugave ugave uyyala’ and ‘Ekkada unnave pilla’, to name a couple of them) to sing under the baton of composer Galipenchala Narasimha Rao. The movie had a special place in Bhanumati’s memories for quite another reason though. It was during the shooting of this movie that she first met Ramakrishna, her future husband. Paaluvaayi Siva Ramakrishna Rao was working as assistant to director Hanumappa Viswanatha Babu, and the young man’s sound knowledge of all technical aspects of filmmaking, pleasing personality, obliging nature and simple habits made a deep impression on the 17 year-old Bhanumati.

She watched him covertly while the shooting was in progress and found herself falling in love with him. She came to the quick, yet irreversible decision that this was the man whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She never approached him though or let him even have a hint of her feelings. “Poor man, he never knew that I was in love with him!” recollected Bhanumati with a mischievous smirk.

Unaware that an assistant director had already stolen his daughter’s heart, Venkatasubbiah was in the process of finalizing her marriage with a wealthy suitor. Bhanumati realized that her feelings could no longer remain hidden, for her very happiness was at stake. She confided in her sister, and implored her to speak to their father about Ramakrishna. It was no doubt a great shock for Venkatasubbiah, but respecting his daughter’s feelings, he sent for Ramakrishna. The unassuming young man was in for a big surprise when he came to know that Bhanumati was in love with him. However, he laid down his terms firmly- Bhanumati would have to be content with being a quiet housewife. “I want my wife to stay with me in a hut if I have only a hut; and if there is not even a hut, she should be ready to stay under a tree” he is said to have declared resolutely. Venkatasubbiah, who held music dearer to life, pleaded with him to allow Bhanumati to at least continue singing, so that she may not fritter away her innate talent.

And the matter remained unresolved thus- Venkatasubbiah deeply saddened at his daughter’s choice and the unsavory turn of events, Bhanumati still determined to marry the man she loved now more than ever, and Ramakrishna not budging from his avowed perspective. She was now acting in her next movie: ‘Garuda Garvabhangam’ (1943/Pratibha), but her heart was no longer in her work; she was torn between loyalty to her father’s wishes and the love that she harbored for Ramakrishna. After days of agonizing indecision, love finally triumphed. Ramakrishna’s foster mother Kamalamma took the decision of getting them married. And in fact, giving up her promising career was not a tough decision for Bhanumati, as she had never really taken to acting as a profession, and had never been smitten by the adulation.

Ramakrishna was initially unwilling to accept her offer, as he knew that this was against her father’s wishes. But, seeing her steely resolve and sensing her lovelorn plight, he relented at last. They were married on August 8, 1943 in a simple ceremony at a Vishnu temple in the China Bazaar area of North Madras. Singer Ravu Balasaraswati, whose brother was Ramakrishna’s close friend, sang the traditional wedding songs in her silken voice. The guests were treated to lunch at the Modern Café. Though no one from Bhanumati’s family attended the wedding, the couple went to Bhanumati’s house soon after the marriage ceremony and took the blessings of Bhanumati’s anguished parents, who slowly came to terms with the situation.

And Bhanumati was true to her word. The young couple lived in a garage converted to a small house in Mahalakshmi Street, T.Nagar. Bhanumati cooked and cleaned and took care to attend to every need of her beloved husband. And when he returned home in the evenings, they would go out and enjoy the charms that Madras of 1943 had to offer- Bhanumati once recollected how they would travel by Bus No. 11 to watch the latest movies. She was truly happy, for this was the life she had always yearned for…


However, unknown to them, wheels were already set in motion to bring this idyllic exile to an abrupt end...

‘Vauhini’ B.N.Reddy was embarking on a movie that was based on a clever coalescence of Vicente Blasco Ibanez’s ‘Blood and Sand’ and George Bernard Shaw’s ‘Pygmalion’. 'Blood and Sand’ depicted the rise to fame of a young matador and his fall to ignominy due to his infatuation for a seductive socialite, for whom he was a mere passing fancy. The original novel by Vicente Blasco Ibanez was titled ‘Sangre y Arena’ and was first found celluloid adaptation as a silent movie in 1922 with Rudolph Valentino as the bullfighter. But it was Rouben Mamoulian’s 1941 magnificent remake of this classic that had captivated B.N.Reddy. The haunting visuals in tantalizing Technicolor, the virile might that the handsome Tyronne Power exuded as the matador Juan Gallardo and the ravishing beauty of Rita Hayworth who played Dona Sol des Muire had ensured the thumping success of the movie.

B.N.Reddy was particularly besotted by the character of the cold and remorseless Dona Sol, and had his team (Chakrapani, Samudrala Raghavacharya) to work on a screenplay that had the essentials of Shaw’s Pygmalion imaginatively interwoven into it. The outcome was an engrossing saga of an unlettered and naïve street dancer Subbi, who is spotted by Murthi, a magazine editor. Impressed by her looks and talents, he takes it upon himself to shape her career into a successful stage actress. Gradually he falls for her charms and starts neglecting his wife and children. But when she realizes that he is no longer of any use to her, Subbi who is now the sophisticated Sujata Devi, has no qualms in dumping Murthi for Naren who promises her better prospects. A sadder and wiser Murthi returns to his family.

Chitoor Nagiah was booked to play Murthi, and also to compose music for the film titled ‘Swarga Seema’. But Reddy could not identify an actress who could portray with enough élan the metamorphosis of Subbi into Sujata. After a futile search, he realized that if at all there was one person who could do justice to this complex characterization, it was Bhanumati. And so he began pressurizing Ramakrishna to permit his wife to act in ‘Swarga Seema’. Ramakrishna and Bhanumati were staunch in their refusal. Bhanumati was not in the least interested in donning the grease paint ever again. But B.N.Reddy would be put off so easily. For three months he did not ease the pressure- if he couldn’t find time to do so himself, he made Mudigonda Lingamurthi visit Ramakrishna and Bhanumati and try to cajole them into acquiescence. Tired of this constant coercion, Bhanumati even pleaded with B.N.Reddy to leave them alone in their marital bliss.

As a final attempt, B.N.Reddy hurled his last weapon- he asked Ramakrishna if it was the fear of Bhanumati’s popularity overshadowing his own that was the rationale behind his rigid refusal. And going further, Reddy declared that Ramakrishna had no right to keep a talent such as Bhanumati’s suppressed. It was this charge of an inferiority complex that finally did the trick- Ramakrishna was highly indignant at this accusation. He discussed the matter at length with Bhanumati- she said that she would do whatever he wished, and if he wanted her to act again, she would. It was thus that Bhanumati came back to tinsel town, this time to stay on forever.

Having the prize catch in his hands now, B.N.Reddy now commenced the filming in right earnest. Besides Nagiah and Bhanumati, the film had actors like B. Jayamma who played Murthi’s long suffering wife Kalyani and Mudigonda Lingamurthi who played Subbi’s father Gangulu. B.N.Reddy and his entire cast and crew watched ‘Blood and Sand’ several times to imbibe the spirit of the tale.
Another facet of the irresistible appeal of ‘Blood and Sand’ was its arresting music score. The song ‘Verne luna’ written and composed by Vicente Gomez, and sung by Graciela Parranga for Rita Hayworth on screen sizzled as the mesmerizing motif of the seduction. One day in the sets of ‘Swarga Seema’, Bhanumati adapted a humming from ‘Blood and Sand’ and dragging the notes further, and ended the tune with a catchy ‘Oh..Pavuramaa’. B.N.Reddy was fascinated by the tune and the nonchalant rendition of Bhanumati, and decided to incorporate it into the movie. One account has it that it was Balantrapu Rajinikanta Rao wrote the lyrics, and Nagiah set it to tune. Bhanumati had a hand in bringing the song to its final shape. The song was recorded in Newtone Studio by the famed audiographer Dinshaw K. Tehrani. The resourceful Tehrani hung a dome-shaped metal over the mike to give the song its haunting effect.

Watch the song here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NCFS8uJg6U

And ‘Swarga Seema’ (1945/ Vauhini Productions) took the entire South by storm; it ran to packed houses and was a celebrated success. Bhanumati had returned, and how! The transformation of the simple Subbi to the suave and shrewd Sujata that Bhanumati portrayed with flamboyant finesse was the talk of the town. Each stage of the transformation was marked by subtle changes in dialect, accent, gesture, attitude, make-up, poise…. If as the simple Subbi, her gullibility was heartwarming in its native charm, as the unscrupulous and ruthlessly ambitious femme fatale Sujata Devi, she emanated a raw animal magnetism and carriage that left the viewers in a delirious daze. “That was the first film in which I really acted!” said Bhanumati of ‘Swarga Seema’. And as for her scintillating ‘oh…pavurama’, it was the rage of the season. She began to be known by frenzied fans as ‘Pavurama’ Bhanumati.

Bhanumati, who had initially intended to return to the life of a happy housewife after ‘Swarga seema’ was now inundated by staggering offers from persuasive producers eager to cash in on her popularity. Surprisingly, she found herself accepting them, indeed contradicting her own convictions. Years later she explained this reversal of her decision as the dictates of the overriding power of motherhood. Her son Bharani was born just then and she wanted to provide a life of comfort and abundance for him. Perceiving the incredible sums of money that the producers were willing to pay, she had no second thoughts about continuing her film career. Ramakrishna accepted the logic of her reasoning, and Bhanumati soon became a top-ranking star of Telugu cinema.

‘Swarga Seema’ became immensely popular with the Tamils as well. To cater to the unprecedented hordes of Tamils who flocked to the theaters to catch a glimpse of the sultry siren, the distributors hastily arranged for Tamil narrations of the proceedings to be made between each film reel! Future legends of Tamil cinema like Sivaji Ganesan, Baliah and Thangavelu would years later confess to Bhanumati how they saw not less than 40-50 shows of ‘Swarga Seema’; so much were they in awe of Bhanumati’s fantastic performance therein.

Her debut in Tamil cinema was thus inevitable…..
- To be continued...

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/1444050892293299/

Part 1 here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/1443161239048931/

இப்படியும் ஒரு பெண்- Part 1

இப்படியும் ஒரு பெண்- Part 1

“She was a most versatile and multi-faceted genius who adorned the world of art and letters and shone brilliantly in the firmament of Indian films. Her achievements as an actress, gifted musician, accomplished singer, film producer, prolific writer, film director, music director and studio owner made her stand out as a colossus in the film world. She was a person of rare courage and forthrightness who always stood up for the highest values and principles; believed in herself and lived a life on her own terms….”
- Chief Minister Jayalalitha, when Bhanumati passed away on 24 December 2005.
In memory of the mighty Bhanumati, reproducing here (for those who have not read it) the first part of the series ‘100 Songs of Bhanumati’ that I wrote in 2006.
* * * * *
How does an ill-equipped geography enthusiast go about tracing the course of a mighty river that thunders its way from its source, meanders into majestic tributaries, serenades magnificent cities, irrigates vast lands, brings succor to parched throats across provinces and finally flows into the sea, proud, dignified and awesome as ever…
How does a mere Tamil Film Music aficionado attempt a life-sketch of a woman who exuded greatness in everything she did, a multi-talented genius of rare principles who lived life on her own terms and never hesitated to speak her mind, a one-woman industry who stormed every male bastion in tinsel town and pulled off incredible successes with gleeful nonchalance, a daring entrepreneur who reveled in repeatedly breaking into smithereens zealously held pre-conceived notions of the male dominated industry, a trail-blazing pioneer who towered over her contemporaries and subsequent pretenders by the strength of her impeccable prowess, a strong-willed and domineering taskmaster who could never suffer lesser mortals easily, a cheerful and contented person wholly conscious of her glorious achievements, a venerable veteran in every aspect of filmmaking who spanned generations and still remains unchallenged as the greatest performer of them all, …Sure she did grace the portals of Tamil Film Music as a singer and music composer of rare merit and has left behind songs of timeless allure, but then this was just one facet of this remarkable woman…

Simple, the enthusiast gives up, albeit sheepishly! For it is sheer folly to contemplate a comprehensive chronicle of the life and times of a colossus like Mrs. Bhanumati Ramakrishna Paaluvaayi (September 7, 1925 - December 24, 2005). All he can do is take up one facet of the genius that is familiar to him, i.e. her songs from her Tamil movies and persist to present them as best as he can as a humble homage to memory of the remarkable woman, with this as the first preamble.
Bhanumati acted and sang in her first movie when she was 13, wrote her first story when she was 14, married the man of her choice against the wishes of her parents when she was one month short of 18, settled to a life of marital bliss away from grease paint and glamour for a while and then made a majestic return to cinema when she was 20 and now a mother as well, set up her own production company and then a studio when she was 24 and made an imposing debut as a director when she was 28. She set her own standards and then strove tirelessly to surpass herself. Her screen presence was legendary and her songs sung with enjoyment and élan. She wrote, acted composed music, sang, edited, produced, directed, ran a well-equipped movie studio with amazing acumen….. “People in the film industry call me a high-spirited woman who tried to get what she wanted and often succeeded. Their assessment was correct!” said a forthright Bhanumati in an interview. No false pretences of modesty in her! And beyond cinema, she wore innumerable hats as homemaker, culinary expert, award-winning writer, painter, astrologer, educationist, social worker….
'I know no other way to associate with great tasks than as play: as a sign of greatness, this is an essential presupposition.' said Friedrich Nietzsche. And that precisely is how Bhanumati went about adding feather after feather to her overflowing cap.
As I said, as a narrator, it is impossible (for me) to do adequate justice to Bhanumati’s remarkable repertoire in full. Hence let me be content with attempting a discography of her songs in Tamil films and give links for many of her songs as we progress album by album, wherever possible. I must confess here that though I did unearth many of Bhanumati’s songs from my collections, some songs proved elusive, like her songs from ‘Rajamukti’, for instance. I know I had them somewhere, but despite vigorous efforts to ferret them out, they remain stubbornly hidden. I know I’ll come across them some day when I am not looking for them particularly, but that then is one of Murphy’s tiresome laws that one learns to live with!
So …on with the tale of Bhanumati’s tryst with Tamil Film Music… but for this part, a brief preamble that seeks to look at Bhanumati’s early years, her entry in Telugu cinema and the dizzying heights of popularity she soared to, setting the stage for her debut in Tamil…
* * * *
Circa 1934. “Naana, why do they show everything wrong in cinema?” asked the child Bhanumati one evening. “Now where did she go and watch a movie?” wondered a perplexed Bommaraju Venkatasubbiah, for he wasn’t aware that his nine-year old daughter even knew the existence of cinema, leave alone watching a movie! But by then Bhanumati had already started exhibiting traces of a strong will of her own and a fierce independence of thought- traits that would prove to be her lifelong companions.
“Come here, child. Which movie did you see and where did you go and watch it? We mustn’t categorize things that we don’t understand as being wrong,” he said in his usual gentle tone. “They were showing ‘Lavakusa’ in the touring talkies, but unlike us, Seetha and all the other women in the movie were wearing their saris over their right shoulder. Why?” demanded the child.
Venkatasubbiah thought for a while, and then asked her “Tell everything in detail. Where did you sit and watch the film?” “ Though there was a huge crowd, I managed to squeeze myself inside…. but there was no place to sit except right in front, and within a few minutes my neck was aching from looking up at the screen…” the child said, rubbing the back of her neck in memory of the discomfort. “Then, what did you do?” asked Venkatasubbiah, for he knew well his daughter’s ingenious resourcefulness.
“Simple, I noticed that there was no one sitting behind the screen, so I led a few girls behind the screen, and there we sat and watched the entire movie!” said the child with guileless glee.
Venkatasubbiah chuckled at this revelation, and led his daughter to the mirror. Pointing at her reflection therein, he explained, “Child, had you sat in front of the screen, you would have seen Seetha draping her sari on the left shoulder. It was because you sat behind the screen that you saw the images on the wrong side, just like the reflection you see on the mirror” Enlightenment dawning on her face, the child ran away, mortified at her ignorant question. For, being remarkably intelligent for her age she was filled with a precocious self-confidence and courage, and this rare instance of folly filled her with shame!
Bhanumati was born in Doddavaram near Ongole, the third child in a middle-class conservative family of two sons and two daughters. Venkatasubbiah worked in the Revenue Department. Though he hailed from a rich Zamindar family, Venkatasubbiah was given away in adoption at an early age, and thus forfeited all his ancestral wealth. What little he had was spent in legal battles to recover his rightful share, but all these efforts were in vain. However, Venkatasubbiah was not depressed at this loss of material wealth; his inner peace and serenity remained intact, for he had with him a far greater wealth in rich abundance- the enduring gift of music.
He had learned classical music from Chinniah Panthulu, a revered vocalist of the Tyagaraja School. From the early years of their marriage, Venkatasubbiah taught his wife Saraswatamma all the music he knew. They often sang together in the evenings after the lamps were lit. Their neighbours would come out and sit at their doorsteps; the trials and tribulations of a mundane middle-class day would soon be forgotten as they listened to the outpourings of Tyagaraja and Annamacharya come alive in the lilting voices of the young couple. The children were born one after another and grew up in the household that reverberated with music all day. Needless to say, all of them took to music effortlessly, and picked up all that they heard.

Bhanumati, in particular, showed an inborn flair for music, and even as a toddler, could repeat many notes that Venkatasubbiah sang. As she grew up, she commenced formal training under her father, and proved an astute and talented disciple. Venkatasubbiah would buy every gramophone record of Carnatic and Hindustani classic music that he could lay his hands on; Bhanumati would listen to the great masters with close concentration and then would sing along with them when the record was played again, much to the unconcealed pride of her doting father. When she had learned all that he could teach her, he arranged for her training to continue under two other Vidwans. And after ‘Lavakusa’, Bhanumati watched a few more movies and would come back home and sing the songs that she saw on the screen. She soon became well known in the vicinity for her intelligence, vivacity, quick wit and of course for her prodigious music. Bhanumati was then thirteen years old and studying in the third form.
Once Venkatasubbiah had to go to Madras in connection with some legal matters and Bhanumati insisted on accompanying him. Venakatsubbiah’s friend Govindarajulu Subba Rao was then acting in Gudavalli Ramabrahmam’s ‘Maa Pilla’ and they were on the look-out for a girl who could play the heroine’s younger sister. He coaxed a reluctant Venkatasubbiah to bring Bhanumati to the production office. A shy and terrified Bhanumati was asked to sing, which she did. However, much to the relief of both Venkatasubbiah and Bhanumati, the director found her too young and timid for the role.
Those were the days when gramophone companies like HMV were always on the lookout for fresh talent, and Venkatasubbiah was contemplating approaching them to see if fortune would favour Bhanumati. However, a minor setback in his health made him suddenly apprehensive of the future, and dropping those grandiose dreams he set about trying to get Bhanumati married. Her horoscope did match with two proposals that came Venkatasubbiah’s way, but due to some other factors both could not materialize. A famed astrologer in Guntur called Ramanayya who had a glance at Bhanumati’s horoscope declared that she would get married only at 18 and that she would excel in arts. Venkatasubbiah was elated to hear this, though he did not know the plans that destiny had for his gifted daughter…
- To be continued....
Discusion at: