Saravanan Natarajan writes:
He thinks of his morn of life,
his hale, strong years;
And braves as he may the night
of darkness and tears
- Robert Bridges (Winter Nightfall)
Happened to watch an interview of singer Ravu Balasaraswati, and the above lines from Winter Nightfall came to mind, as they did even a decade back when I wrote about her in dhool.com. The 88 year old singer who had held an entire generation of listeners in her sway has been struggling valiantly with abject penury for a while. Despite some assistance received over the years, the venerable singer is finding it difficult to lead a dignified life.
I am sure many music lovers would be distressed to know the pitiable plight of Ravu Balasaraswati , the silken voice that serenaded serenity in the portals of Telugu and Tamil film music in the 50s.
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For those who are wondering who Balasaraswati is, this could come as a glorious revelation:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7UH0rJu-fQ
Charlie Chaplin’s silent movie City Lights was released in 1931, 4 years after the advent of talking movies. The film was a poignant portrayal of the love that a good-hearted tramp (Charlie) cherishes for a blind flower seller (Virginia Cherill), the travails he undergoes to prevent her from being evicted from her tenement and then the efforts he takes to restore her eyesight. The film is considered a classic to this day, for its sheer brilliance in a heartwarming study of the lives of the lowly in a big, brutal city.
Gemini Vasan perceived the intrinsic worth of the tale, and bade his crew to work on an adaptation set in an Indian milieu. Raji En Kanmani (1954) had an imaginatively reworked screenplay and dialogues by the Gemini Story Division, headed by Sangu Subramaniam. Directed by K.J. Mahadevan, the film starred T.R. Ramachandran, Sriranjini Jr, Sriram, S.V. Ranga Rao, Chandrababu, T.P. Muthulakshmi & others.
T.R. Ramachadran played the vagabond Ramu, while Sriranjini was the blind flower seller Raji. Ramu’s sympathy for Raji soon blossoms into love. He arranges for her eyes to be operated by a kind doctor (Sriram), and makes frantic efforts to get the required funds. But in the process, he gets into some trouble with a wealthy alcoholic and is unjustly imprisoned. The good-natured doctor then performs the surgery for free and Raji is now able to see. When she realizes that her wait for Ramu is futile, she accepts the doctor’s proposal and marries him. Years roll by, and they now have a son.
Ramu is finally released, and by chance rescues Raji’s child from being hit by a car. Seeing him injured, Raji takes him to her house. When she touches his face, old memories come cascading- for she had touched Ramu’s face long ago. Ramu does not wish to disturb the tranquility of her marriage, and though the doctor recognizes him, moves out, merging into the shadows of the city.
I heard from an old-timer who I once met in a recording store that the movie was well crafted, and the performances, especially that of T.R. Ramachandran, uplifting. But sadly, the movie was a commercial failure. What makes the film immortal though is the classic ‘Malligaipoo jaathi roja’. In City Lights, Chaplin had featured Jose Sancho Padilla's haunting 'La Violetera', which itself, I believe, seeks inspiration from ‘La Paloma’ (some of us would have learned this at school), as the BGM in some of the sequences. And taking the cue, the talented Master Dhanraj and R. Parthasarathi, who were working as part of the Gemini Music Troupe at that time under Hanumantha Rao (brother of Saluri Rajeswara Rao) created a classic with rich western interludes. The song (and its Telugu version, also sung by Bala ‘Malle poolu molla poolu’ /Raaji Naa Praanam) was a raging hit in its time. Even as the gentleman in the recording store was talking about it, his face lit up, and his eyes crinkled in nostalgic delight with memories of another day. And for a magic moment, I too caught a glimpse of the bygone 50s through his reverie!
‘Amma vaareero, anbodu paareero vanguveero, malarndha poovellaam kalandha maalaiye’ is another version of ‘Malligai poo jaathi roja’- another equally enticing call of the florist. The mood is sadder here though, fretting at the gathering clouds that threaten her serene sky, wondering if she would ever set her eyes on her benefactor, the song closes with a plaintive call ‘O Ramu..aah Ramu!’ ‘Sundara malare solliduvaaye' is another stunner song in the album, sung by the same velvet voice that wrought magic with the other songs.
‘Thoongaayo duraiye’ is another forgotten diamond from the same casket, polished with painstaking care by the same singer, singing now what Tamil Film Music celebrated as Bala’s forte, a lilting lullaby. And as though to make up for straying westwards in the other songs, the composer(s) return home in this one, and what a homecoming it is! Hark at the lines…she lulls her son to sleep…'Sleep my Lord, so that you may dream… At the edge of the rainbow, a beautiful brook flows…on the banks of the brook, a cricket sings….. hearing this song, a lovely flower blossoms …and at that moment you can hear the beat of a majestic drum…. So sleep on my lord, so that these vistas will enfold in your dreams’ she croons …. Aaha, beguiled with such an enticing prospect, which child would not sleep! Listen here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nvIgHdEc7Dc
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The little girl who sang for HMV when she was barely six years old…the child star who acted and sang her own songs…the singer who created records with her non-film, light song albums…the first playback singer of Telugu Cinema…the Music Director of a Sinhalese film (Laila Majnu)…the wife of the Raja of Kolanka… the righteous woman who commanded the right to change the lyrics if she found them unsuitable…the singer who glittered amongst the galaxy of gifted artistes who were her contemporaries in the 50s…Indeed, Bala reflects a rich and vibrant legacy…
On one occasion when Kapilavai Ramnatha Sastri wanted someone to render the song ‘Namaste naa praana naatha’ on stage, the entire hall was transfixed when this charming 4 year old girl volunteered to do so. And she went up with calm self-assurance and had the crowd give her a standing ovation at her flawless singing. That was her Bala’s first ever public performance. The little girl honed her skills listening to the gramophone records from her father’s collections and could repeat even the most intricate compositions without much ado. She also learned music from Allathuru Subbaya for a while. When she was 6 years old, she was discovered by lyricist-composer Koparappu Subbarao, who got the child an opportunity to get to sing for a gramophone company, the very first song of Bala that was recorded was ‘Dorike dorike naaku’. Her father was filled with pride at the achievements of his darling daughter.
Bala’s maternal grandfather was an advocate in Madras. When the child was staying at his house for a while, she received an irresistible offer to act in a movie. Despite misgivings of her orthodox family members, she had the active support of her father and soon ‘Baby’ Balasaraswati made her debut playing the celestial Ganga in the Telugu film Sati Anusuya & Bhaktha Druva (1936/ East India Film Co.) Director Chitajalu Pulliah made this ‘two mythologicals in one’ with a wholly child cast. Bala’s soulful song ‘Ethethethaari Naakachata’ in her very first film outing became hugely popular. She caught the attention of pioneer Tamil filmmaker K. Subramaniam and the Tamil films that she acted in the following years were Bhaktha Kuchela (1936), Balayogini (1937) and Thiruneelakantar (1939).
- To be continued....
Discussion at :
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/1629037280461325/
Part 2 here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/1630255277006192/
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