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…
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.
“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....
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