dhool

dhool
Click on the above image and Join the discussion in our Facebook group

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Jathi malligaiye - Mannukul vairam

Saravanan Natarajan writes:

Can we let go uncelebrated here the birth anniversary of the greatest actor of all times? The annals of
Tamil cinema are filled with glorious chapters bespeaking the greatness of the thespian. The 50s and the 60s and even part of the 70s had the actor enact roles that are enshrined forever in the memories of generations of Tamils- I have seen people from all walks of life recall with awe some minute nuance of his in some movie- a stare, a sneer, a chortle, a cough, a swagger, a twinkle, a frown, a shrug, a groan, a reproach, a smirk, a glint… an eyebrow raised in disapproval, a shoulder slumped in disappointment, an eye cringed in amusement, a head lowered in discomfiture, an arm stretched in supplication, a moan muffled in mortification, an upper lip pursed in steely determination….. It might have appeared for a fleeting second on the screen…but oh, the impact! It is but natural that the glorious memories of the Nadigar Thilagam fill our memories and the facebook walls of like-minded friends today.

Taking advantage of having a day off with Arvind away at school, we went to Citi Center and watched ‘Chekka Chivantha Vaanam’. In a particular sequence, one of the characters mocks at another thus ‘Edhukku Sivaji maathiri scene podara?’ (With the English subtitle showing ‘Why this high melodrama?’) I was left ruing at the callous contempt for a Colossus- would he be recognized as such by the current generation?

The astute performer knew the pulse of his audience and played his parts to perfection. It was only towards the late 70s and 80s that filmmakers could not come up with roles that befitted his age and stature and he was panned by merciless critics for most of his movies of the time. Movies such as Bharatiraja’s ‘Muthal Mariyathai’, Mukta Srinivasan’s ‘Pareekshaikku Neramaachu’ and Durai’s ‘Thunai’ were silver linings amidst these dark clouds of the 80s.

But there is one another movie from the 80s, a movie that is seldom remembered by even most die-hard Sivaji fans- strangely so, for it was a movie in which the Sivaji Ganesan gave a riveting performance- eschewing his famed histrionics, he appeared mellowed and restrained and lit the screen with subtle touches, grace and a dignity that was heartwarming. A diamond that remains buried in the remorseless sands of time….

* * * * * * *

Kovai Thambi (he of Motherland Pictures fame) was a name to reckon with in Tamil cinema of the 80s. Powered by the genius of Ilaiyaraja, his movies rocketed to success. Despite being a staunch MGR devotee and a member of the AIADMK, KT was filled with a desire to make a movie with Sivaji, sometime in the mid-80s. It was then that Bharatiraja recommended to him his brother-in-law Manoj Kumar who had an interesting script with an appropriate role for Sivaji. Sivaji was in Hyderabad at the time. KT flew there with the script and narrated the story to Sivaji. Sivaji was impressed with the story, but asked KT if MGR was aware of this project. It was only after KT assured him that MGR was happy about this project that Sivaji agreed to come on-board.

The movie was titled ‘Mannukkul Vairam’. Along with the thespian, actors such as Sujatha, Rajesh, Murali, Ranjini, Pandian, Vinu Chakravarthi, Goundamani and Vani Vishwanath offered credible support to the engrossing screenplay. Playing the village headman with an endearing majesty, Sivaji filled the frames with brilliant understatements- the forgiving glance to a repentant villager, the fury and shame in his eyes when he knows of his nephew’s misbehavior with a girl, the love with which he pampers his unfortunate granddaughter, his relief and happiness when he is able to secure a life of marital joy for her, his anguish when things move to a gruesome tragedy…. Emotional highpoints tempered with muted shades, the King stood tall and proud in the dusk of his illustrious career…

* * * * * * *

Kovai Thambi, who had struck gold repeatedly with Ilaiyaraja (Payanangal Mudivathillai, Ilamai Kaalangal, Naan Paadum Paadal, Unnai Naan Sandhithen, Udhayageetham), fell out with the Maestro after Idhayakoyil and brought in V.S. Narasimhan for Aayiram Pookal Malarattum and Laxmikant- Pyarelal for Uyire Unakkaga. His next experiment was with the new composer Devendran for Mannukkul Vairam.

And Devendran worked painstakingly to come up with a stellar album. SPB and S. Janaki, the reigning monarchs of Tamil film music, honoured the humble debutant composer by rendering the songs. And it is to Devendran’s credit that at a time when the Maestro had the Tamil populace under the spell of his magic and when his songs monopolized the airwaves night and day, Devendran’s compositions for Mannukkul vairam such as ‘Idhazhodu idazh serum neram’ and ‘Pongiyadhe kaadhal vellam’ managed to sneak into the popularity charts and remained ensconced therein for a while. However, much like other contenders, after the spark of brilliance in initial albums such as Vedham Puthithu and Kaalaiyum Neeye Maalaiyum Neeye, Devendran could not sustain this streak of success, and after a few mediocre efforts, disappeared soon in the relentless mists of time…

Penned by Vairamuthu and composed by Devendran, this poignant song is sung so feelingly by SPB for Sivaji Ganesan- The richest man in the village, and alas, also the saddest- for his granddaughter, the apple of his eye, is a child-widow.

He brings for her rich and varied delicacies to taste, exquisite dolls to play with, but, in keeping with the cruel customs of the village –only austere white clothes to wear. 'Thatha, why cannot I wear colourful clothes like other girls? ' she wails. He is heartbroken at her grievance. Unable to give her an appropriate answer, guilt-ridden at his own helplessness and hiding his angst at her wretched state, he pacifies her gently and pats her to sleep, singing this soft, caressing lullaby…She sleeps, he remains awake...a long night ahead; his heart wrecked by torment...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIFF3QFAv0o

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2203358479695866/

Friday, September 7, 2018

மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 37

Saravanan Natarajan writes:
மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 37

வசந்தம் வரும்......

Another casket of sparkling gems bequeathed by our மெல்லிசை மாமணி V. Kumar, another casket that remains unopened, its compartments untouched, its treasures never displayed, their luminescence never admired....

A movie named ‘வசந்தம் வரும்’. வசந்தம் வரும், despite its optimistic title, was destined to languish in the winter of oblivion and rue at the spring did not deign to grace its threshold, for it never got to be released. And the wonderful album that Kumar eagerly worked on was consigned to lie forgotten on the dusty rear shelves of the few audio centers that happened to buy the EP record.

The record gives the year of its manufacture as 1981, and announces the wretched banner as ‘Electra Films’. Vijayan is shown in a ruminative posture on the front sleeve, while Saratbabu smiles at you from the other side. The director of this doomed film was K. Somasundareswar. The songs were written by the obscure Mu. Paavaanan. It was Paavaanan who wrote the lyrics for some lilting Gangaiamaran compositions such as the rhapsody ‘தென்றல் ஒரு தாளம் சொன்னது' (Jayachandran/ கனவுகள் கற்பனைகள்) and the haunting Janaki solo ‘மாலையே, இள மாலையே பனித்தூவி போகாதே’ (மதுமலர்).

This song, ‘தென்றல் தாலாட்டும் நேரம்’ is an exquisite guitar-driven composition, one that throws open wondrous vistas of dreamy, languorous romance. Yesudas and Susheela are the brushes that paint themselves into the captivating canvas, the thrushes that twang to a tantalizing tango, the crushes that throw a log afresh to kindle the smoldering longings of a love-struck couple…Kumar is the ethereal minstrel, the magician who stands smiling with glee at the side-stage, letting his magic sweep over the soiree…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7sQmle18CVo&feature=youtu.be

The other song ' கண்ணில் ஒன்று, கையில் வேறு' is a whimper from the soul, a plea for the Spring to come and bloom in the heart of the disillusioned, an anthem of compassion for the disenchanted, a captivating celebration of loss, a carnival of grief….

‘Man’s finest works bear the persistent marks of pain. What would there be in a story of happiness?’
queried a petulant André Gide (L’Immoraliste). Kumar sets to prove this averment of the maverick French writer, and raises note by note an edifice whose elegance rests on the mainstay of muted melancholy. He lures in some rays of sunshine from ‘உன்னிடம் மயங்குகிறேன்’- his own immortal collaboration with Yesudas, plucks some lustrous moonbeams off Salilda’s ‘மாடப்புறாவே வா’ and draws upon the vocals of a brooding Yesudas- the bewitching vocals that bask in a perennial undercurrent of sorrow… all the while Kumar’s piano and violins move in endearing empathy- for Paavaanan’s lines that seek to erase from memory the evidences of a lost love are punctuated with magnificent metaphors….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OX3AwsspH_4&feature=youtu.be

Let there be a museum for film music, let there be an opulent chamber for Kumar in that museum, and let there be a mantelpiece for such unheard marvels in that chamber….I am confident of these dreams coming alive someday, even if not in our lifetime....for music such as this does not bow to the edicts of time....it lives on, if not in the memories of mere mortals, surely and serenely in the stratospheres of eternity....

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2172846509413730/

Friday, August 24, 2018

மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 36

Saravanan Natarajan writes:
மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 36

ஏதேதோ கனவு கண்டேனோ.....

Last weekend when OISG, Narayanan, Sivakumar Sir and I met, we talked, among other things, of Ilaiyaraja reusing his tunes in other languages.

My thoughts, this week, were on many such instances, and at the irony of some of the tunes funding their way back to Tamil! Like for instance, ‘சங்கத்தில் பாடாத கவிதை’ (which itself was the Tamil version of the scintillating Malayalam number ‘Thumbi vaa’), enjoying a Telugu sojourn in ‘Aakasham enatido’ and returning to Tamil as ‘நீர்வீழ்ச்சி தீ மூட்டுதே’ when Nireekshana was dubbed into Tamil as கண்ணே கலைமானே. And each of the versions, in Malayalam, Tamil and Telugu featured the vocals of Raja’s Prima Donna. The Hindi version that came much later, was a fun-filled Mano- Preeti Uttam Singh duet, though.

However, there came to memory an instance where a tune sung by Janaki returned to Tamil in the vocals of Vani…serendipity happens when we listen to the same tune in the vocals of the two talented Divas….

Janaki, as we know, was at most times an afterthought in the Tamil albums of the 60s. MSV would send for Janaki only in the rare cases when he wished for a change from his trusted Susheela or protégé Easwari. In a decade that was dominated by these two hugely talented singers, Janaki had to be content with the stray opportunities that came her way. That she gave her best to each one of her songs, few that they may be, revealed why she was celebrated in Malayalam and Kannada.

The 70s, however, was a decade of renaissance. The number of composers, lyricists and singers who found exciting avenues ensured an abundance of variety. MSV was first to acknowledge this change, and along with the young SPB, Yesudas and Jayachandran, a delighted Janaki found frequent summons from the Master coming her way. With the advent of Vani, MSV found a singer who was in perfect sync with his thoughts. Album of album came from the Master with dazzling permutations and combinations of singers.

If Vani was an inevitable presence in the ensembles of MSV, Shankar-Ganesh and Vijayabhaskar, Janaki found her moorings in the music of Ilaiyaraja. The late 70s and the early 80s were the time when the careers of both the singers peaked and most albums featured their vocals.

Janaki and Vani had only a handful of duets, though. It was MSV who brought them together for the first time in the beautifully composed ‘இந்தப் பெண்ணோடு பிறந்தது நடனம்’ (சமையல்காரன்/ 1974). The divas shared the mike four years later when Shyam composed the eternally alluring ‘பொன்னே பூமியடி’ (மனிதரில் இத்தனை நிறங்களா/1978). Ilaiyaraja gave them the jaunty ‘மச்சானை பாரடி’ (தங்கமகன்/1983), and also made them join Malaysia Vasudevan to render the haunting ‘சின்னப்பொண்ணு சின்னப்பொண்ணு’ (அறுவடை நாள்/ 1986). Chandrabose pulled a coup of sorts when he brought together Susheela, Janaki and Vani to sing ‘வந்தாளே தெற்க்குச் சீமையிலே’ ( பொண்டாட்டி சொன்னா கேட்டுக்கணும்/ 1991).

And in the 1978 movie காற்றினிலே வரும் கீதம், Raja sent for Janaki and Vani to render the two versions of the title song. If Janaki’s ‘கண்டேன் எங்கும்’ was the gentle zephyr that caresses one with its pleasant allure, Vani’s was the wild tempest that tantalizes one with eerie enticement.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cl1IbJwXVro

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqDkmF1dLds

* * * * * * *

Jwala, a 1985 Telugu movie, was a potboiler in the standard template of the time. In a movie which
Chiranjeevi essayed a double role, Ilaiyaraja came up with some feet-tapping songs that became popular. Even overshadowing the fast-paced dance numbers, it was the soulful Janaki solo ‘Evevo Kalalu’ that topped the charts.

The tune was so appealing that Raja had to reuse it in Tamil in the following year. ‘மரகத வீணை’, a story revolving around a primary school in a southern village and the love that blossoms between the music teacher Kokila (Revathy) and the sports coach Kannan (Suresh), had a magnificent album. And ‘Evevo Kalalu’ was heard as ‘கண்ணா வா’, again in the voice of Janaki.

Two years later, a production company called ‘Vijay Gowri’ films embarked upon dubbing ‘Jawala’ in Tamil as ‘துடிக்கும் நெஞ்சம்’ and the songs were recorded in Tamil. I doubt if the movie ever made it to the halls, but Vani’s fervent ‘ஏதேதோ கனவு கண்டேனோ’ did feature in the salubrious ‘Mandha marutham’ parade of Radio Ceylon.

Here then are the two songs, the same tune in the voice of the two divas:

Kanna Vaa from Maragatha Veenai (1986)
Sung by S. Janaki
Lyrics by Vairamuthu
Music by Ilaiyaraja

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1ifFkNbJt4&feature=youtu.be

Ethetho from Thudikkum Nenjam (unreleased)
Sung by Vani Jairam
Lyrics by Vaali
Music by Ilaiyaraja

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0w-ulzvJCk&feature=youtu.be

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2154102721288109/

Friday, August 3, 2018

Idhayam idhayam inaikirathe - Vidukathai (1997)

Saravanan Natarajan
Admin · August 3 at 5:27 PM

Was in Jaipur for the last 2 days on work. As is my wont, and as my close friends know only too well, there is always a song running within even I as go about my routine. And the two days that I was in Jaipur it was ‘Sivappu lolaakku kulunguthu’.

Later while going to bed, I thought about the movie ‘Kaadhal Kottai’, a movie that stole my heart at the time. My thoughts then went to Agathiyan, the sadly forgotten talented film-maker, and then my thoughts went to what in my opinion was his best movie ever…

* * * * * *

Putting aside the disappointment of ‘Madhumathi’ (1993) and showing promise in the modest success of ‘Vaanmathi’ (1996), Director Agathiyan was riding on an unprecedented high soon thereafter. In ‘Kaadhal Kottai’, he told the tale of a love that blossoms through mail, without the lovers even meeting each other. In ‘Gokulathil Seethai’, Agathiyan presented an interesting account of a wayward youth brought to the right path by the patient, persistent efforts of the heroine. Runaway hits of 1996, both movies had interesting storylines narrated with rare sensitivity, their appeal enhanced manifold by the proceedings flowing to a riveting climax. And Agathiyan made history when he became the first Tamil to win the National Award for Best Director for his work in ‘Kaadhal Kottai’.

The critical commendation and commercial success enjoyed by 'Kaadhal Kottai' and 'Gokulathil Seethai' prompted K. Balachander to invite Agathiyan to make a film for his production house Kavithalaya. The movie that Agathiyan set about making was 'Vidukathai'.

* * * * * * *

‘Of more than twice her years,
Seam'd with an ancient swordcut on the cheek,
And bruised and bronzed,
She lifted up her eyes
And loved him, with that love which was her doom…’
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Idylls of the King)

This time around, Agathiyan crafted a tale of a 18 year-old girl and a 41 year-old man falling in love and then coming to terms with their marriage. Anandi is a bubbly college student, fearless and forthright in her convictions. And when her father succumbs to a heart ailment, she shows precocious sagacity in dealing with the loss, at least outwardly.

Neelakantan, a middle-aged ex-army clerk is the new tenant in an outer wing of Aanandi's house. He is a bachelor, and feeling left behind by time, he has divested himself of any matrimonial plans. Though he seems to have accepted his single state with indifference, his agony at his wasted youth reveals itself in an inebriated outburst.

The two lonely souls find their moorings in mutual compassion and understanding. Drawn to each other, they reach the bridge of love that will see them safely across the chasm of the enormous difference in their ages. It is the candid Anandi who expresses her desire to get married to him. And after initial denial, Neelakantan reciprocates her love and they get married.

After an idyllic honeymoon and the initial euphoria of marital bliss, they settle down to a life together. However, Neelakantan's feelings of doubt, inadequacy and self-reproach lead to problems that threaten to wreck their marriage. How Anandi manages to coax him out of his complexes forms the engrossing climax. When love prevails, all has to end well. Their marriage is for keeps.

Agathiyan painted on his canvas a life vibrant in all its idiosyncrasies and complexities. How the inner strength of Anandi comes to the fore when Neelakantan wallows in his weaknesses is put forth strikingly in sequences that form the defining moments of the narrative. When in the end Neelakantan sobs unashamedly in the comforting arms of Anandi and finds his uncertainties dissolving in his tears, Agathiyan leaves us with moist eyes as well, for the movie is a rare cathartic experience.

Agathiyan extracted brilliant performances from Prakashraj and Neena in the lead roles. With the story revolving around the two characters, Agathiyan needed only a handful of supporting artistes and here mention must be made of an outstanding cameo by Janakaraj as Neena’s father.

Sadly, ‘Vidukathai’, a Diwali release of 1997, did not find any takers and came a cropper at the hustings. I still recall that Diwali- ‘Rakshagan’, ‘Thedinen Vandhadhu’ and ‘Janakiraman’ were the movies that we friends rushed to see ( for attractions that now seem insignificant  😊 ), and only after watching them in quick succession, did we deign to see ‘Aahaa’, and that too only because it was released in Prarthana. Though I wanted to watch ‘Vidukathai’ after reading the reviews, not one of my friends was willing to indulge me by his company. We did watch ‘Porkaalam’ in due course, but finally when I made my way all by myself to Nagesh Theater to watch ‘Vidukathai’, it had already been consigned to the cans. It was many years later that I chanced upon upon a VCD of the movie in an obscure shop in Sharjah, and seeing it, I realized what I had missed. But then perhaps, it was all for the good, for I doubt if I could have appreciated the cunning subtleties and heartwarming highpoints of the movie way back in 1997…

* * * * * * * .

Presenting here a joyous song sequence…Goa is the Eden where our Adam and Eve seek out their honeymoon. Neelakantan and Anandi are on a voyage of discovery, discovery of themselves and of each other. Shy overtures, sidelong glances, half uttered endearments progress to frank conversations, bold appraisals, heady partying, candle-light dinners… the works..

Beverley Nichols said ‘Marriage is a book of which the first chapter is written in poetry and the remaining chapters in prose.' But Agathiyan begs to differ- he avers that while this meeting of the two hearts is new poetry indeed, each succeeding day would usher in poetry afresh for this special couple- no prosaic prose for them! Deva crafts a tune that is sheer poetry in itself- hark at the gentle flow of the tune mingling so delectably with a waft of the joys of a Goan carnival in the second interlude when the pair party aboard a ferry. Chitra entices as always, while the underrated Krishnaraj is scintillatingly soulful.

Song: Idhayam idhayam inaikirathe
Film: Vidukathai (1997)
Vocals: K.S. Chitra & Krishnaraj
Lyrics: Agathiyan
Music: Deva

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3ZpykFkZmI

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2115882381776810/

Friday, July 27, 2018

மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 35


Saravanan Natarajan
Admin · July 27 at 3:15 PM
மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 35

ஒரு பார்வை நூறு கவிதை….

As I affixed my signature on a document this morning, I noted the date…and realized that it is the birth anniversary tomorrow of a person who has a very special place in my heart…. a great man who, to my eternal regret, I could not meet when he was amidst us….. Yet when I visited his house years after his demise and had a long, unforgettable conversation with his singer- wife, I could sense his cosmic aura hovering over every word spoken, every song recalled….. As I wandered across the hall I could picture the rehearsals that would have taken place in that very room…. I could hear the music that would have reverberated within those very walls- the music that was born to gladden the hearts, nay, stir the souls of generations to come …. When his son and family graced my house in Sharjah with their presence, I could imagine the great man smiling from above…

Varadarajulu Kumaresan, our most beloved V. Kumar, would have turned 84 tomorrow.

V. Kumar- a beautiful page in the chronicles of Tamil Film Music…. The humility of his heart stayed hidden behind the magnificence of his music, the innocence of his mind took refuge behind the inventive flourishes of his baton….. His unassuming nature proved his undoing…. His virtues made him a vulnerable victim for the vultures…… he could neither comprehend nor counter the cunning and the crafty who called the shots in Kodambakkam…. His shelves were filled with cheques dishonoured, his forgiving heart not permitting him to follow up on payments long outstanding….. and when opportunities dwindled, the guileless gentleman preferred to let his genius remain untapped rather than to beseech the big barons for work….

Yet, Kumar, the ‘மெல்லிசை மாமணி’, filled each album that came his way with marvelous music; many of the movies may be forgotten, but Kumar’s works therein are celebrated to this day. He has left behind a glorious legacy of melody that will forever enshrine his memory in the hearts of countless music aficionados like us… உனக்கென்ன குறைச்சல்….நீயொரு ராஜா...

Presenting today, as part of the மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை series, two songs from a movie that remains unreleased, and while we are at it, let us also commiserate with a talented writer whose tryst with the tinsel town was anything but happy…

* * * * * * *

The writer I refer to is none other than much admired Kovi. Manisekharan, author of many a best seller and winner of the coveted Sahitya Akademi Award. His breathtaking range and repertoire include historical novels, plays, social novels, short stories, compilations of poetry, articles… …குற்றாலக் குறிஞ்சி, அஜாத சத்ரு, நந்திவர்மன், யாக சாலை, மயிலிறகு..... Kovi’s works would find a place of pride in any Tamil library…

However, like many writers before him and many after him, Kovi was bitten by the cinema bug. Even as early as the 50s, he wrote lyrics for songs such as the A.M. Raja- (Radha) Jayalakshmi duet ‘ஆசை நெஞ்சமே’ and the (Radha) Jayalakshmi solo ‘கண்ணாலர் இங்கு வருவார்’ (பூலோக ரம்பை).

He joined KB’s unit as Assistant Director in 1973 when ‘அரங்கேற்றம்’ was being made. In an
interview, he recalled that he was treated with affection and respect by KB. Under the exacting master’s tutelage, Kovi learned the grit and the grime; he understood the intuition, innovation and improvisation that are compulsory chapters in the craft of film-making. Unfortunately, financial constraints (Assistant Directors were not paid well) and constant friction with KB’s chief assistant Ananthu forced Kovi to leave KB’s unit and he returned to his first love, writing.

However, in 1975, he was approached by Baba Desai, a Kannada producer who wanted to buy the rights of ‘தென்னங்கீற்று’, one of Kovi’s novelettes. The story was about a girl in her 20s who has not ‘attained age’ in the physical sense. Desai was startled when Kovi expressed his desire to helm the project. But when he learned that Kovi had apprenticed under KB, Desai readily agreed to produce the movie in Kannada and Tamil. The Kannada version ‘Nireekshe’ had Srinath, Manjula, Kalpana and Shivram in the lead roles. The Tamil version தென்னங்கீற்று had Vijayakumar, Sujatha, Kalpana and Jaiganesh. Producer Baba Desai appeared in a brief role. In an interview, Kovi recalled that as a film institute student, Rajinikanth had approached him seeking an opening. Kovi wanted Rajini to play the role that eventually went to Jaiganesh, but by the time தென்னங்கீற்று happened, Rajini was already acting in அபூர்வ ராகங்கள் and could not make himself available on the dates that Kovi wanted.

G.K. Venkatesh composed music for the songs in both versions. While ‘Nireekshe’ was a commercial success, ‘தென்னங்ஙீற்று’, despite a great performance by Sujatha, was an abject failure. Kovi's only consolation was that both versions won critical acclaim and awards.

* * * * *

Disheartened at this failure, Kovi went back to writing and completed his magnum-opus ‘யாகசாலை’. Determined as ever to make his mark in cinema, he decided to make a celluloid adaptation of his ‘Yaagasaalai’. His wife pleaded with him to leave cinema aside and concentrate on his writing. Even MGR is said to have counseled him against attempting to make a movie of ‘யாகசாலை’. All this fell on deaf ears and Kovi went ahead with drafting the screenplay.

He commissioned Vadivukkarasi to play the pivotal role. For the male lead, instead of bringing on board his first choice- the young Vijayakanth, Kovi had to settle for a newcomer for the simple reason that the youngster was ready to pay Kovi an amount of INR 30K if he was given the role. And this amount was a godsend just then to the cash-crunched Kovi. He also sold the rights of his novel ‘அகிலா’ when he needed funds for the next schedule. (‘அகிலா’ was subsequently made as ‘மீண்டும் பல்லவி’ and released in 1986).

Kovi even sold a plot of land that was his to complete the project. Vijayaramani aka T.S. Raghavendar composed the music. However, released in 1980, ‘யாகசாலை’ was a massive catastrophe.

With that Kovi vowed never to venture into filmmaking again… He continued writing. He produced serials for television such as ‘அக்னிப் பரீட்சை’, ‘ஊஞ்சல் ஊர்வலம்’ and ‘திரிசூலி’.

Even now, when you are half-asleep and hear ‘ஒரு
ரோஜாப்பூ சிரிக்கிறது’ wafting from the radio in the still of the night, you turn aside with a sigh thinking of Kovi Manisekharan, a great talent who found success elusive in Cinema….

* * * * * * *

Not many would be aware that in between ‘தென்னங்கீற்று’ and ‘யாகசாலை’, Kovi directed a movie that never made it to the marquee….

Sometime in 1975, Chidambaram, an industrialist from Sivakasi came to Madras and met with Kovi. Chidambaram was so impressed with ‘தென்னங்கீற்று’ that he evinced keen interest in producing a movie with any other story of Kovi. The delighted Kovi narrated some of his his stories, and the novel ‘மனோரஞ்திதம்’ was picked to be made into a movie.

‘மனோரஞ்சிதம்’, in brief, was about a girl in a washerman’s family. Among the clothes that come regularly to their laundry is a silk shirt that always bears the fragrance of the Manoranjitham flower. The young girl fantasizes about the gentleman to whom the shirt belongs; she imagines him to be a handsome youth. She finds herself falling in love with him, even without knowing his identity. The denouement is when she knows that it is a middle- aged man behind the shirt and he is afflicted with leprosy. Kovi had buttressed this tale with interesting side-characters, heartwarming sequences and interesting twists. He sat to work on the screenplay and dialogues. The film-making commenced with great fanfare, with each of the guests being presented with a Manoranjitham flower. V. Kumar composed a set of lovely songs for the movie.

Sumitra essayed the role of the naïve young girl, and veteran S.V. Subbiah played the role of the afflicted man. Vijayakumar, ‘Thengai’ Srinivasan, M.N. Rajam and Manorama were the others in the cast. Shooting commenced at a brisk pace, with each shot meticulously well-planned and executed. It was then that Kovi faced the first hurdle.

It was an emotional sequence involving a long monologue by Subbiah. The veteran was not in his elements that day, and even after ten ‘takes’, could not come up to the expectations of Kovi. It was past noon when Kovi requested for another attempt. Subbiah declined citing that he was hungry and said that he would return after lunch. Kovi renewed his plea for a last ‘take’. An annoyed Subbiah removed his wig and declared ‘break’. Kovi protested that it was only his prerogative, as a director, to announce the lunch-break. Subbiah stomped off in anger and did not return.

The stand-off continued for more than a month. In the interim, Subbiah and Kovi filed complaints against each other in their respective associations. Subbiah claimed that he was insulted and declared that he would not be part of the project anymore. He even offered to return the amount he had received as an advance. Sivaji Ganesan, then the president of the Nadigar Sangam, tried his utmost to bring about a rapprochement, but Subbiah stood stubborn in his stand. Sivaji Ganesan requested his good friend ‘Major’ Sundarararajan to essay the role, without any payment. Major readily agreed, and the sequences were shot afresh.

Kovi faced the next hurdle when a major portion of the movie was completed. This time producer Chidambaram fell out with one of his partners and after repeated talks, an uneasy understanding was brokered between them. A fallout of this was the demand that Kovi step aside to make way for the seasoned director-duo Krishnan Panju. An embittered and disillusioned Kovi moved away.

Krishnan-Panju saw the rushes of the movie made, but could not decipher the sequence of the shots as Kovi had divided the screenplay mentally into various portions and he had shot the sequences in the order he had in mind. Krishnan-Panju wanted to re-shoot a significant part of the movie or wanted Kovi to return and give certain clarifications. The producers could not afford this unanticipated cost. They could not also bring themselves to request Kovi to return.

Hence the project was abandoned….. ‘மனோரஞ்சிதம்’ remains a bud that never blossomed….

* * * * * *

Radio Ceylon, as was its wont, picked up two songs from the orphaned ‘மனோரஞ்சிதம்’ and pampered them with frequent airtime. I recall listening to them even in the 80s. However, by the time I commenced my collection of these rare, prized numbers, these songs seemed to have vanished. I hunted for them in vain, even in remote corners of the South. Finally, it was only Mrs. Thomas of the hallowed Colombia Recording House in KL, who sent delicious shivers down my spine when she answered my anxious query with an affirmative nod.

Let us listen first to the stunning semi-classical number ‘ஒரு பார்வை நூறு கவிதை’… Kumar ropes in veteran TMS to join Vani in this alluring outing… While TMS is usual majestic self, it is Vani who steals my heart with her delightful flourishes and dulcet tones. Listen to Kumar’s bravura arrangements; you cannot but come under the spell of the great Mellisai Maamani.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqpG3aMoVAA&feature=youtu.be

The second is the title song (it has a pathos version as well) rendered by Janaki, an unusual presence in Kumar’s ensemble. Much before Ilaiyaraja and his ‘செந்தூரப்பபூவே’, Kumar summons Janaki to call out to the மனோரஞ்சிதம் and sing for a young lass in the throes of love…. She wonders who the man is who has found his place surreptitiously into her heart…. She sighs over the fragrance of the flower that makes her throb with a delicious ache….she giggles in self-conscious bashfulness- Kumar is in his melodic elements, and Janaki does what Janaki must….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Ffk84mPHic&feature=youtu.be

These songs remain ensconced in a precious crevice of memory; their appeal undiminished over the decades, much like the மனோரஞ்சிதம்- the Artabotrys Hexapetalus, whose fragrance lingers on in the air long after the flower itself has withered….

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2103546529677062/

Friday, July 20, 2018

மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 34

Saravanan Natarajan writes:
மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 34

வசந்தத்தில் ஒரு வானவில்....

It was drizzling when I was going to work this morning, but the dark clouds had moved on by the time I reached. And when I drew back the blinds from my window, I stood speechless staring at the magnificent rainbow that showed up for a fleeting moment before disappearing behind the clouds, white, this time…. And sighing, I sat down to open my laptop, but not before the title of a long forgotten movie came to mind….and with it, its songs….. and with the songs, the composer….. Vasanthathil Oru Vaanavil….

* * * * * *

Vasanththil Oru Vaanavil was produced by a banner called ‘Veena Movies’. I believe it was directed by renowned Srilankan director T. Arjuna. Erode Thamizhanban was involved in drafting the script and penning the dialogues, besides working as Associate Director. Pratap Pothen and Radhika played the lead roles. Unfortunately, much like the movies that have featured in this series, ‘Vasanthathil Oru Vaanavil’, filmed in 1981, never made it to the silver screen….

Two songs from this ill-fated project, however, survived the guillotine of oblivion…they were picked up Radio Ceylon, nurtured and indulged all through the early 80s before being cast aside into the dark recesses of time… Lyrics were by Kalpanadasan and music was by Khemadasa…

* * * * * *

And who is Khemadasa, you may well ask, for his is not a name that is well-known in our parts. But when you cross the Palk Strait and mention the name, it would meet with reverential recognition and profound admiration. For Kemadasa Master, as he is known, was the pride of Sri Lanka. ‘Deshamanya’ ‘Kala Keerthi’ Dr. Premasiri Khemadasa (1937- 2008) was a composer nonpareil in the beautiful isle. Born in a penurious family in Wadduwa in the South-West coast of Sri Lanka, Khemadasa commenced his musical career as a flautist in Radio Ceylon.

He first composed music for the Singhalese movie ‘Rodi Kella’, and soon gained critical acclaim and
widespread fame with his score for movies such as ‘Sobana Sita’(1964), Sepatha Soya (1965), ‘Sanasuma Kothanada’ (1966) and ‘Golu Hadawatha’ (1968). Working with master film-makers such as K. A. W. Perera and Lester James Peries, Khemadasa was a trail blazing pioneer who brought into Singhalese Cinema a music that was native as much as it was universal- Hindustani nuances nodding to Western notations, Baila that beautifully blossoms into Beethoven- his music witnessed the happy marriage of seemingly unlikely influences.

My own particular favourites from the vast Khemadasa portmanteau are ‘Eran kanda pem handa’ (Nedeyo), ‘Lassana thaleta’ (Narilatha), ‘Ron rasa berena’ (Rana Giraw), ‘Sara Soduwu’ (Hantane Kathawa)…. From 1964 until 2002, Khemdasa filled Sri Lankan Cinema with songs that bared the souls of the characters and background music that spoke all the words that were left unsaid.

In addition to film music, Khemadasa’s repertoire includes path-breaking compositions in theatre, opera and teledrama. His most celebrated works include the symphonies Sinhala Avurudda (Sinhala New Year) Pirinivan Mangallaya (The passing away of the Buddha) and the opera Manasa Vila (The lake of the mind). The cantata Pirivin Mangallaya, in particular, is a spellbinding listen. The opera ‘Agni’ was his swansong and was magnificent in its rich idioms.

Khemadasa, like a truly great human being, remained humble all his life. He refused to bow to beauracracy and trudged a lonely path of his own. He picked promising children from poor families and trained them in his unpretentious school that was run in a corner of a garage. He passed away in 2008.

I am awestruck at Khemadasa, the ‘Maestro’ and Khemadasa, the human being, when I watch these videos:

Part 1:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ixZjqSj7K4

Part 2:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4r7IIA6bz40

The Maestro in action:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKH82PFbbQU

* * * * * * *

Khemadasa first came into the attention of the Tamils when along with our own V. Kumar, he composed music for the 1979 Indo-Sri Lankan joint venture ‘Nangooram’. Reams have already been written about the gorgeous songs such as ‘Oru Paarvai paarkum pothu’ and ‘Aalayam Nayagan Gopuram Nayagi’.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xK9g6Qg56ME

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoELUy0auNQ

The 1988 Ramarajan-Saranya starrer ‘Melam Kottu Thaali Kattu’ came out with songs composed by Khemadasa. The master was assisted by an enthusiastic youngster called C. Deva who would blossom into the most prolific composer of Tamil cinema in the 90s. I would rate ‘Ammamma Sollamma’ composed by Khemadasa as one of Uma Ramanan’s finest songs ever. The seamless transformation in the mood of the song from pleasure to pathos, the arrangements never faltering, shows the class of the great Khemadasa…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WVWIf-rz68

* * * * * * *

Listen on then to the two versions of ‘Aaraaro arraaro’ from Vasanthathil Oru Vaanavil, the first sung by SPB & Vani Jairam and the second by S. Janaki… Composed by Khemadasa….a dazzling rainbow that made a fleeting appearance in the Spring of Tamil Cinema….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MIPCH0jpfc&feature=youtu.be

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTJLTy8KVyc&feature=youtu.be

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2091341990897516/

Saturday, July 14, 2018

எம்.எஸ்.வி நினைவுகள் - ஜனனி

Saravanan Natarajan writes :

Another July 14 is upon us, another anniversary of the sad, sad day when Tamil Cinema suffered an irretrievable loss…. Let us pay a heartfelt tribute to the great Master by picking up an album from an unlikely decade…the 80s…

* * * * * *

The summer day is closed, the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
the latest of whose train goes softly out in the red west…

-Bear Bryant (An Evening Reverie)

It is never easy trying to chronicle the years that ushered in the end of a glorious career, the dusk that finally enveloped a dazzling day. The 80s were, on the whole, not a happy decade for the Mellisai Mannar.

MSV had enjoyed a long uninterrupted reign as the absolute monarch of Tamil film music. Growing from strength to strength in the 50s along with TKR, MSV found the 60s opening the doors of fame and fortune. The duo outshone and outdid the great puritans in the field, and rode on a light-music wave of trail-blazing glory. His split from TKR saw MSV rising to greater heights with all the top banners firmly under the spell of his baton. He experimented with music of every genre, engaged the listeners with classy preludes, added innovative touches in orchestration, ensured refreshingly different interludes and did not release the singers until they came up to his expectations, at least in part. Attending a recording session of MSV, Naushad was said have been amazed at the nonchalant speed in which the song was born. There was absolutely no competition for MSV- V. Kumar, Shankar-Ganesh, and later Vijayabhaskar made their entry and did commendable work, but they could never reach the league of MSV. KVM found greener pastures in Telugu. And so the master remained, perched in snug invincibility, till 1976 and Ilaiyaraja came along..


Not that MSV was much affected by the new entrant, at least in those early years. He had his hands full even in the late 70s, and continued making wonderful music. But he saw some of his trusted clientele being drawn gradually by the mesmerizing music of Ilaiyaraja… Balaji, Thirulokachandar, and even his great friend Sridhar didn’t think twice before knocking Raja’s door (though they all came back to MSV for some of their movies in later years). Ilaiyaraja won the coveted TN Government Award for the best Music Director in 1977. MSV gave all he had for ‘நினைத்தாலே இனிக்கும்’ (1979) and that immortal album filled his loyal fans with ecstasy.

In the beginning of the 80s MSV was still in much in demand, but as the decade progressed, the offers dwindled to a mere trickle. The rough graph of MSV’s score vis-à-vis the total films released in each year of the 80s looks like this:

1980: 21/107
1981: 25/104
1982: 23/119
1983: 17/96
1984: 11/117
1985: 10/130
1986: 10/ 110
1987: 11/ 102
1988: 4/ 97
1989: 5/ 99

MSV did try to adapt to the changing trends, he used the synthesizer, he worked with younger singers, and being very much in possession of all his creative faculties, did come up with some worthy numbers. But these were not sufficient to stem the tide. Even the last few loyalists like KB and Mukta Srinivasan, who had stood by MSV all these years, switched camps now….‘The king has lost his crown’ as a popular ABBA number goes. The big door was closed with a resounding bang, but God, in His infinite wisdom, quietly left a small window open, and MSV got to work with R.C.Sakthi and S.A. Chandrasekar, crafting unforgettable songs for some small budget movies.

Like a sudden gust of wind that in a delightful drench blows down the drops of water remaining on the leaves long after it had stopped raining, these albums seemed to resurrect the Mellisai Mannar to his erstwhile throne, albeit for a brief reign…

I had once written a series on MSV’s albums in the 80s….Picking up today a jewel crafted by the master music-smith in the twilight of his brilliant innings…

* * * * * *

Writer/ Director Netaji had always been one great fan of MSV. That comes as no surprise, considering Netaji was an avid film music enthusiast during his college years in the early 70s when MSV was still the absolute monarch of Tamil film music; and for anyone who harbored even a passing fancy for film songs in those times, MSV was an icon worthy of awe and veneration. However, his interest in film music notwithstanding, it was his literary passion and pursuits that Netaji was more known for. He was hugely popular in the campus circles for his repeated successes in debates and elocution competitions, and his ability to come up with spontaneous poetic lines to suit the occasion. Soon afterwards, he wrote a serial story in Dhinamani Kathir. All this led to him to him even assuming the editorship of Navasakthi for a while.

It was during Netaji’s tenure at Navasakthi that he caught the attention of ‘Mukta’ Srinivasan and A.S. Prakasam. And so it was Srinivasan who brought Netaji to cinema, by inviting him to write the lyrics for a song in his ‘அந்தரங்கம்’. Thus Netaji made his debut in tfm, writing the arresting 'ஞாயிறு ஒளி மழையில்’; the song, tuned by Devarajan and sung by Kamalhasan, zoomed to the top of the charts. But this song remained Netaji’s sole claim to fame for a while; bereft of an enthusiastic patron, it wasn’t so easy for an aspiring lyricist to get continuous opportunities. Kannadasan and Vaali pretty much divided all the work that there was amongst themselves. Pulamaipiththan, Na.Kamarasan and Muthulingam subsisted for most part only on MGR movies. The coming of Ilaiyaraja then saw the rise of Panju Arunachalam and Gangai Amaran.

R.C.Sakthi and Shyam gave Netaji his next outing - 'அட மாமா’ (Kamalahasan/ Ceylon Manohar) for மனிதரில் இத்தனை நிறங்களா. Shyam was impressed by the enthusiastic youngster and persuaded the producer of his next album தேவதை (1979) to give Netaji a chance to pen the lyrics. Thus Netaji got to write the lyrics for one of Shyam’s best tunes ever, ‘களீர் களீர்'. The song, sung by a soulful S. Janaki is a sensitive soliloquy of an unmarried weaver woman whose youth is already waning…she works away on the loom, and she ruminates on her passing years, the hurdles that stand in the way of happiness…she sings wistfully of her uncertain future. Netaji mirrored the entire gamut of her emotions in this one song. ‘மாந்தளிரே மயக்கமென்ன' is another scintillating Janaki solo that Netaji wrote for the same film, but this is a complete change of scene, here it is a girl singing bashfully of her love.

Netaji next found place among the list of lyricists (the others being Pulamaipiththan, Muthubharathi and Poonkuyilan) in S.A.Rajkannu’s ‘கன்னிப்பருவத்திலே’ (1979/Sri Amman Creations). ‘நடைய மாத்து’ (MV/SJ) tuned by Shankar-Ganesh was a delectable folksy feast. The same year saw a prized offer coming Netaji’s way- an opportunity to write lyrics to MSV’s tune! The song, ‘எந்தன் கற்பனைத் தேரில்’ was a duet sung by T.L. Maharajan and B.S. Sasirekha in the movie ‘ஸ்ரீராமஜெயம்’ (1979).

However, to Netaji’s disappointment, this did not lead to a flurry of further opportunities. He bade his time, all the while filling little known literary magazines with his poetic outpourings. He had got into the good books of S.A.Rajkannu, and 1980 saw him drafting the screenplay for ‘சின்னச்சின்ன வீடுக்கட்டி’, produced by Rajkannu and directed by Yuvaraja. S.A. Rajkannu then decided to direct a film himself in 1981, and summoned Netaji to write the dialogues; but ‘அர்த்தங்கள் ஆயிரம்’ (1981) fetched neither of them any glory. Netaji next wrote the screenplay and dialogues for the Vijayakanth starrer ‘தீர்ப்பு என்ற கையில்’ (1984), which was directed by J.V.P.Sundar. None of these movies were noteworthy successes, and Netaji was still waiting for that elusive break.

It was in 1984 that Netaji cultivated the acquaintance of Jeppiar. Jeppiar perceived a spark in the multi-talented Netaji, and within no time, agreed to produce a movie for Netaji. And the MGR devotee that Jeppiar was, the movie was titled ‘உன்னை விடமாட்டேன்’, borrowed from the title of the movie that was touted as MGR’s comeback vehicle after he became the CM, and given up later due to various reasons. Besides writing the directing the movie, Netaji acted as the hero as well! Poornima Rao was his pair. And his favorite MSV was the Music-Director. Thus a full decade after Netaji entered cinema, 1985 dawned finally as a year of realization of his dreams. Among the Pongal releases of that year was ‘உன்னை விடமாட்டேன்’ (Jeppiar Pictures), and it did moderate business.

* * * * *

Later in the same year came the movie that gave Netaji a fleeting hour of glory under the arc lights.

As we know the ownership of the legendary Gemini Studious had passed from S.S. Balan in the aftermath of ‘எல்லோரும் நல்லவரே’, and later in the sprawling premises came up the Parsn Complex, one of the first and at that time the finest commercial and residential address in the heart of the city. A magazine called ‘Gemini Cinema’ with the famed bugle boys as its logo came out in the early 80s and quickly gained circulation. And in 1985, there was widespread publicity that ‘Gemini Pictures Circuit’ under its new owner, Pazhaniappan Ramaswami, was back into filmmaking, and that the comeback venture was titled ‘ஜனனி’.

I remember vividly the hoarding put up in Luz Corner proclaiming the return of Gemini to filmmaking. Similar posters sprung up all over the city and this publicity evoked substantial interest in ‘ஜனனி’. Netaji scripted and directed the movie, besides penning the lyrics. Newcomers Udayakumar and Bhavya played the lead pair. Ilaiyaraja’ s கீதாஞ்சலி was being made around the same time, and the heroine, a Kannada import, was also called Bhavya. Hence our ‘Janani’ Bhavya re-christened herself ‘Gemini’ Bhavya! The other actors were Charlie, Murugesh, Prabhakar and Manimala. Somendhu Roy handled the camera, T.Karunanidhi was the editor. Netaji was assisted by an eager youngster called R.V. Udayakumar, who would soon rise to fame as a successful director in his own right.

‘ஜனனி’ (Gemini Pictures Circuit) was released on September 29, 1985. It was during the school
quarterly holidays. Throwing aside the complexities of Keppler’s Laws and Analytical Geometry that we had to come to grips with as part of the holiday assignments, and not minding the dire imprecations that we were threatened with at home, my cousin and I took off to Thiruvanmiyur Thyagaraja to watch the movie. I don’t remember the movie scene by scene, but the story was fairly routine- a college romance that triumphs over several obstacles, including fiery ego clashes. The narration, however, was invigorating, the performances convincing, and the movie was thoroughly enjoyable to us teenagers playing truant :)

* * * * * *

And, of course, the songs! Shrug off the irksome Malaysia Vasu/Saibaba inanity, ‘நாட்டு சரக்கிது’, and what wonderful songs remain! I guess that it was Netaji who insisted for and got his favourite MSV to compose the music. And providence was never so propitious, for MSV set Netaji’s lines to enticing tunes, and the songs brought back to MSV the glories of his heyday…..they were aired on Radio Ceylon all day long even before the movie’s release. I remember listening to the nightly trailer on Vividh Bharathi, and once the movie was released, the songs flooded the ‘Ungal Viruppam’ requests and were the toast of the season. The Mellisai Mannar had not called it a day yet… no sir!!

The movie opens with fun-filled sequences of campus capers. Hilarious ragging scenes and practical pranks filled the frames. Janani defeats Venkat in the college elections and insults him at a college function. He bides his time and then spikes her drink during a college picnic. In an inebriated state, she lets off a blood-curling yell, shakes her hair loose, and dances as though in a trance. The fun waxes fast and furious even as a priest from a nearby temple is brought in to exorcise the evil spirit that seems to have possessed her!

I remember Udayakumar and Bhavya being quite nimble on their feet, and the song being an absolute riot. Half the crowd in Thyagaraja that afternoon were on their feet, whistling, clapping and swaying to the song!

MSV opens his account with the udukkai as the exorcist’s weapon, and the ever-obliging SPB draws a cloak of youthful mischief and merriment over the proceedings. Janaki is the obvious choice to counter each missile from the man with characteristic confidence and gives back cheerfully all she gets and more! As in many of the master’s intricacies, there is a marked difference in the pallavi as sung by SPB and Janaki- he sings the lines hurriedly, as though eager to end her drama and impatient to bring her to her knees; while she sings her pallavi with unhurried nonchalance, as though to accentuate her cool insolence- there are even subtle variations in pitch in her second repetition of the pallavi. MSV alternates between the udukkai beats and the drums and gives the song a catchy, contemporary cadence. Netaji’s fun-filled lines such as ‘அடி கட்டிலுக்கு தூக்கம் வருமா, கள்ளு bottleலுக்கு போதை வருமா’ add to the amusement.

Song # 1: ஆடுறது எந்த அம்மனோ
Sung by SPB & S. Janaki

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

And as it so often happens, and in no time at all, antagonism turns into affection; spite and wrath find themselves vanquished by love. Unlike poles attract, it is said; he had found her headstrong and arrogant, but aren’t these the very qualities that he finds so intriguing now? And ‘he is so brash and foolish’, she had ranted, only a little while ago. And now…. ‘oh, he’s so delightfully impulsive and charmingly naïve!’ she gushes! Cupid rubs his hands in glee, for it’s all in a day’s work for him. But for the young lovers…oh, delicious is the ache and sleepless are the nights….he yearns to be with her and cries out in despair. She is similarly afflicted, but counsels patience till the dawn of that auspicious day that would unite them forever…

MSV strings together a semi-classical treat, a scintillating Shanmugapriya that transcends time in its tantalizing allure. The pulsating prelude offers a teasing glimpse of the treat that is to follow. SPB, of course, is at hand to act out this piece of lusty longings. And who else but Vani to bring to life the splendor that MSV envisaged and more in this intricately crafted classical fare! She makes a dazzling entry in the charanam, and the bashfully lowered voice in ‘நூலாக எந்தன் இடை மெலிந்து போகும்’ shows class tact in this classical act. Netaji the poet immortalises himself in that unforgettable parallel ‘இடையென இறைவனா, உள்ளதா இல்லையா’ And SPB, of course, has to give that sardonic snigger while singing it! How much frustration is encapsulated in that ‘அந்த நாள் தேடி நான் வாடவா!’ And hark at Vani usher in so many subtle variations in that ‘வாராயோ நீ என் உயிரே’ – I can imagine MSV sigh in contentment!

The song ranks high in my list of favorites from the 80s, and I am certain it would in most of yours as well…

Song # 2: கொஞ்சும் மலர் மஞ்சம்
Sung by SPB & Vani Jairam

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cs5lubaQNg

However, all this was merely a wistful dream of a besotted Venkat. Janani cannot bring herself to forgive him for the incident at the picnic. She thwarts his advances with anger, derides his penitence as pretense, dismisses his affection as affectation… At a college function, he sings…his song is a fervent, forlorn plea for forgiveness….

MSV must have thought of Yesudas as soon as he saw the lyrics, for this was the time soon after their own rapprochement after years of not working together, and these words seeking pardon for past mistakes perhaps reflected the unsaid thoughts of both the stalwarts… And of course, Yesudas was just the person to do justice to this song with a patina of pathos!

Netaji’s lyrics need special mention here, what heart-rending, evocative lines he has written! ‘உன்னருகில் வாழ உந்தன் நிழலுக்கு இடமில்லையா’, and what poignant lines does he sign off his supplication with: ‘என் இதயம் உன் உடமை, உனக்கது புரியாதா? இன்னுமதை நீ மிதித்தால் உனக்கது வலிக்காதா?’ Surely, Netaji must have experienced first-hand the anguish of remorse and a failed love to write heartfelt lines such as these…

Song # 3: மன்னிக்க மாட்டாயா
Sung by K.J. Yesudas

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mwwqu8lKtsE

In order to keep Vankat away, Janani agrees to get married to Jagan….Venkat is shattered, but even then he wishes her well and he sets about reforming the Jagan, who is a habitual gambler and drunkard… In the process, he gets wounded by Jagan’s sidekicks and even ends up in prison on a trumped up charge….. When the truth is revealed, a chastened Janani perceives the innate goodness in Venkat…

It is now her turn to beseech his pardon, and like him, she chooses a public platform to do it…on Doordarshan, no less! Her ‘உன் இதயம் உன்னிடமே, நீ நல்ல முடிவையெடு’ perhaps as a poignant rebuttal of his earlier declaration is filled with so much angst, even while tempered with tremulous hope. Bravo, Netaji!

MSV calls Susheela this time around; and that veteran whose fortunes at that time were on the downslide after a long and magnificent innings, returns to recreate the magic of the past when as the reigning doyenne of Tamil film music, she sang stunner after stunner for the master. The gentleness and grace that Susheela brings in her delineation warms one’s heart at every listen. MSV keeps the orchestral support to the bare minimum, for he knows fully well the strength of Susheela’s vocals. Nevertheless, the guitar in the short interludes seems to mourn in empathy with the mood of the song.

Song # 4: மன்னிக்க மாட்டாயா
Sung by P. Susheela

The song does not appear in fill in the movie; here is the audio:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7Zrnf5AD10

Things then move towards a swift climax; All is well that ends well.

* * * * * *

‘ஐனனி’ however, didn’t do as well as expected, despite being a fairly entertaining movie, and despite being blessed with the bounty of a rejuvenated Mellisai Mannar. Bhavya shrugged off the ‘Gemini’ prefix and went back to Calcutta. Finding no further takers, the handsome Udayakumar sunk to abysmal depths appearing in Malayalam movies of dubious distinction and few TV serials.

All the same, MSV had made a fetching statement, his work won widespread appreciation; the songs were immensely popular in their time. His detractors who had earlier trumpeted his decline were silenced at this sudden success. His loyal fans were delirious with joy…they believed that the king has returned from exile to stake his claim to the throne… But sadly, ‘ஜனனி’ remained only an iridescent tongue of flame from the dying embers….

* * * * * *

The lack-luster performance of ‘ஐனனி’ must have hit Netaji hard. But putting the disappointment of ‘ஐனனி' behind him manfully, Netaji went on direct few movies more in the coming years. Before that, he was one of the lead actors in ‘உன்னிடத்தில் நான்’ (1987). Scripted by Sujatha, produced by a NRI called Shankar Ramani and directed by Arun Veerappan, the movie was a modest success.

Netaji next scripted and directed two movies produced by Trichy A. Chandran under his National Movie Makers banner, but both சொல்வதெல்லாம் உண்மை(1987/Vijayakant & Rekha) and கோயில் மணியோசை (1988/ Pandian & Abinaya) failed to fetch commercial or critical dividends. In an attempt to resurrect her declining career, the aging K.R.Vijaya produced ‘சிலம்பு’ (1990). The movie was scripted and directed by Netaji, and had in its cast K.R.Vijaya, Saratbabu, Vijayakumar, Murali, Rohini and Chadrasekar. I have seen the movie, and found it surprisingly engrossing, tackling an inventive theme. However, the cinefans of the 90s had no patience to watch a புன்னகை அரசி past her prime, and the film was sent back to the cans without much ado.

I am unable to trace Netaji’s career post ‘சிலம்பு’. I read somewhere that he tried his hand in some TV shows, but don’t recall watching any of his works on TV. An avid film enthusiast called Vijayakumar, whom I came know through good friend Sundar, happened to meet Netaji a few years back in Kundrathur. Apparently, Netaji had chosen to settle in the suburb, far from the tinsel town, and was enjoying being the owner of ‘Motilal Ice Cool Bar’ in a quiet street in Kundrathur.

Perhaps he is even now hopeful of another turn behind the camera. Even if that doesn’t come to pass, I wish some of the current music-directors would harness Netaji’s infinite and proven capabilities in writing poetic lyrics. Who knows, this may happen yet, for life holds a surprise at every bend…

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2079560915408957/

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 33

மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 33

மனிதனுக்காக மதமா....மததுக்காக மனிதனா..........

‘Would you like to compose music for a Kannada movie that I am making?’ asked B.R. Krishnamoorthi to a tall, dapper youngster whom he overhead speaking in Kannada. The year was 1954 and the venue was ‘Sarada Vilas’, a small Udupi restaurant in Matunga, Bombay. BRK had introduced himself to the young man and was so impressed with him that when he came know that he was a musician, gave him the said offer spontaneously.

The youngster was none other than Vijayabhaskar, who had been working in Bombay with several stalwart Hindi composers such as Madanmohan, Noushad and Shankar-Jaikishen. VB was excited to go back to his hometown Bangalore along with BRK, and engaging an orchestra called ‘Jaya Maruthi’, composed the songs and completed the recording in Mysore. The movie ‘Sri Rama Puja’ (1955) was not a commercial success, but VB’s inventive compositions brought a refreshing whiff of originality in the portals of Kannada Cinema. There was no looking back and VB albums in Kannada such as Rani Honamma, Santa Tukaram, Naandi fetched him raving laurels in those early years.

VB was born in 1924 in Bangalore. His grandfather, Arumuga Mudaliar, hailed from Serkaadu, a village near Vellore. Both his grandfather and father V.A. Krishnamoorthi were engineers. VB grew up in Malleswaram, in a rich musical environment. He listened attentively when his sisters were being taught Carnatic music. The temples surrounding the area resonated with devotional music all day long. He learned Hindustani music from a master called Bhave. Impressed by the western music that was being played in the hotels at the Cantonment, VB undertook formal lessons in Western Music for five years from Leny Hunt, an English musician. Later, he discontinued the engineering course he was pursuing and went to Bombay. His astute knowledge of notations and skills on the piano fetched him the above mentioned opportunities to work for the great composers of the time.

Continuing his success trail, VB composed music for Puttana Kanagal’s first movie ‘Belli Moda’ (1967) and this marked the beginning of a long and fruitful association with the ace director. Along with GKV and Rajan-Nagendra, VB was in the forefront of Kannada film music all through the 60s, 70s and even the 80s. His magnificent compositions in movies such as Mannina Maga, Uyyale, Mallamana Paavada, Yaava Janmada Maitri, Sankalpa, Gejje Pooje, Sharapanjara, Naagarahaavu, Kesarina Kamala (VB introduced Vani Jairam in Kannada cinema in this album), Upasane, Shubhamangala, Besuge and many more remain hugely popular to this day. His score for the 1986 musical Malayamarutha is spoken of with awe, even in erudite music circles. Bringing out the best in the vocals of Yesudas, SPB, S. Janaki and his favourite Vani, VB crafted each song in the album with scintillating finesse.

The astute Adoor Gopalakrishnan picked VB to compose the background score for his iconic Mathilukal, which had no songs. VB went on to work with the famed filmmaker for Vidheyan and Kathapurushan. The Karnataka Government recognized the talents of VB by conferring upon him the Best Music Award for a record 6 years and honoured him with the coveted Dr. Rajkumar Award in 2000.

VB passed away in March 2002; his demise going largely unnoticed in Tamil Nadu. His contribution to Tamil Film Music has gone largely unrecognised and unappreciated. It is a crying disgrace that the TN Government did not find it fit to honour him in any way while he was amidst us, or his memory after his demise. A small consolation is that he was posthumously conferred the K Subramaniam Award by the Cine Technicians Association of South India on 29 December 2002.

It is then left to us music enthusiasts to remember him, and with undying gratitude, for he bestowed upon Tamil film Music some of its finest and defining moments in the latter half of the 70s. And this was no mean achievement, considering that he had no powerful promoter, no benevolent patron, no big-banner projects. MSV was very much in the centre-stage. Ilaiyaraja had made a dazzling entry and was composing marvelous songs, album after album. Shankar-Ganesh were around to cater to the smaller banners. Talented composers such as V. Kumar and Shyam found some projects coming their way. VB had to reckon with all these factors, and all he got in the years 1974-1983 were 23 movies. Many of them were not great commercial successes. Yet, if most of these movies are remembered today, it is only for the eternally appealing musical score of VB. Indeed, his songs are gems of purest ray serene that the dark unfathom’d caves of those unremarkable films bear.

However, even much earlier that 1974, VB had entered the portals of Tamil Cinema, albeit through the dubbing route-this innings lasted 5 years, commencing from அன்பே தெய்வம் (1957), and ending with அரபு நாட்டு அழகி (1961). அன்பே தெய்வம் was the Tamil version of Nagendra Rao’s Kannada movie Premada Putri. In the late 50s and early 60s, many of the Hindi movies made by Homi Wadia were dubbed in Tamil and tasted commercial success. Kuyilan wrote the Tamil lyrics of the songs. The Hindi compositions, be it by S.N. Tripathi or Chitragupta, were recorded anew with southern singers by VB. A young S. Janaki crooning 'கோடானக்கோடி பேரே' (ஸ்ரீ ராமபக்த ஹனுமன்), P. Susheela making merry in 'என் நெஞ்சம் உன்னை அகலாது' (ஜிம்போ), A.M. Raja & Susheela's two duets 'உன்ன அன்பை தேடுகின்றேன்' & 'கண்ணீர் துளியால்' (அரபுநாட்டு அழகி), Koka Jamunarani’s sizzling ‘நெஞ்சில் நிறைந்த வீரா’ (நகரத்தில் ஜிம்போ) are remembered to this day by wizened old-timers with a nostalgic sigh.

Despite coming out with riveting and widely admired Kannada compositions with melody as the mainstay all through the 60s, it was only in 1974 that VB could get an opportunity to work for a straight Tamil film. Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi, who was impressed with Vijayabhaskar’s score in the Kannada film Nagara Haavu (1972), commissioned him to compose the music for his கல்யாணமாம் கல்யாணம் (Ironically, when Nagara Haavu was remade in Tamil as ராஜநாகம், the music was composed by V. Kumar). And the wondrous ‘இளமை நாட்டிய சாலை’ heralded the arrival of VB in Tamil Cinema.

He struck gold with his very first album and bagged a handful of projects in quick succession. In 1974 itself, Vijayabhaskar gave music for four movies. In the next year, six films came out bedecked with Vijayabhaskar’s melodious songs. Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi and Panju Arunachalam made repeated collaborations with him. However, Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi’s subsequent ventures were not great commercial successes. Panju Arunachalam discovered Ilayaraja in 1976. And Vijayabhaskar was left with a few projects by small-time producers.

A list of Vijayabhaskar’s works in Tamil that I can recall:

1. கல்யாணமாம் கல்யாணம் (1974)
2. எங்கம்மா சபதம் (1974)
3. உன்னைத்தான் தம்பி (1974)
4. உங்கள் விருப்பம் (1974)
5. மயங்குகிறாள் ஒரு மாது(1975)
6. யாருக்கு மாப்பிள்ளை யாரோ (1975)
7. மாலை சூடவா (1975)
8. உறவு சொல்ல ஒருவன் (1975)
9. உங்க வீட்டு கல்யாணம் (1975)
10. தொட்டதெல்லாம் பொன்னாகும் (1975)
11. காலங்களில் அவள் வசந்தம் (1976)
12. மோகம் 30 வருஷம் (1976)
13. ஆடு புலி ஆட்டம் (1977)
14. ஒளிமயமான எதிர்காலம்(1977)
15. காலமடி காலம் (1977)
16. பெயர் சொல்ல ஒரு பிள்ளை (1978)
17. அவள் ஒரு அதிசயம் (1978)
18. தப்புத்தாளங்கள் (1978)
19. ராஜாவுக்கேற்ற ராணி (1978)
20. சொளந்தர்யமே வருக வருக (1980)
21. ஒரு கை பார்போம் (1983)
22. நீதியா நியாயமா (unreleased)

He did a film each for K. Balachandar and Sridhar, justifying fully the trust placed in him by the fastidious masters. Despite his works finding repeated airtime, VB could not secure any further Tamil projects. Ever the gentleman, VB was ‘too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune; he had not the method of making a fortune’. He thereafter continued making music of his own enchanting kind for Kannada Cinema. His compositions in the 2001 Kannada film Neela won both critical acclaim and popular appeal. He had just completed the score for a movie called Poorvapara, when he received a summons from the heavens above. VB was, in many ways, much like Wordsworth’s Lucy- He lived unknown, and few could know when VB ceased to be….

Yet…. when you lie half-asleep cuddling to Yesudas crooning ‘மோகனப்புன்னகை ஊர்வலமே’ in the still of the night, or when SPB and Vani engulf you with a sense of the ethereal in ‘அன்பு மேகமே இங்கு ஓடி வா’, or when the same pair take on an enchanting stroll down memory lane with their salubrious ‘மாமதுரை நாட்டினில்’ or when you smile at L.R. Anjali having a blast in ‘ஐயராத்து பொண்ணு சொன்னா’, or when you exclaim with awe at Vani’s talents finding varied and exciting avenues in albums such as மயங்குகிறாள் ஒரு மாது and காலங்களில் அவள் வசந்தம், or when you sit transfixed at the silken tapestry that Susheela and SPB weave in ‘பனிமலை மேககங்கள்’, or the wave of nostalgia that sweeps you when you chance to hear the line ‘ஆசை என்பது அமுதம் அதில் ஆடி வந்தது குமுதம் ’ blaring from a roadside eatery as you turn a dusty corner of a road down South, or when you note with pleasure ‘சம்சாரம் என்பது வீணை’ finding place in a MP3 collection of SPB solos that you have laid your hands on in one of the many shops that line the streets adjoining the Ashram and the Temple in Pondicherry, you would remember with gratitude and reverence an unassuming gentleman and master music-smith, whose bewitching creations were part of our growing years…..

“Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad”

-Christina Rosetti

* * * * * *

For today’s edition of the மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை series, let us listen to 2 songs composed by VB in 1979 for a movie called ‘விழிப்பு’ (Chitra Bharath) that was directed by the genius Nimai Ghosh. This was the only other Tamil movie that the ace cinematographer got to direct apart from the pathbreaking ‘பாதை தெரியுது பார்’ (1960). ‘விழிப்பு’ was scripted by the acclaimed writer M.A. Abbas, whose literary works include கள்ளத்தோணி, ஒளி பிறந்தது, ஒரு வட்டம், கலையின் விலை, besides Tamil translations of some English works such as Heinrich Harrer’s ‘Seven Years in Tibet’ and S. Chandrasekhar’s ‘Communist China Today’.

விழிப்பு was all about how vested interests play the religion card to sow discord among peace-loving people. When a sudden storm hits the tiny coastal village of Alangudi, the womenfolk wait anxiously for the return of the fishermen from the sea. All except two, Arumugam and Anthony come back safely. The two friends are washed ashore, and to their horror find themselves in Pei Theevu, the island that no one would venture into, for it was said to be haunted. Arumugam and Anthony wander all over the island, and find to their surprise that it is fertile and filled with natural resources in abundance. The sea all around seems teeming with fish of every variety.

The two friends return to Alangudi and speak to the village elders about Pei Theevu. And despite the resistance from the superstitious villagers, sail to Pei Theevu and settle there with their families and few friends. Over a few years, perceiving the growing prosperity of Arumugam and Anthony, more people from Alangudi relocate to Pei Theevu, which has been now renamed as Karunai Theevu. With increasing all-around affluence, a temple and a church spring up. Insignificant incidents get magnified to gigantic proportions, leading to rabble-rousing actions and communal riots. Friends turn into foes…..

M.A. Abbas had crafted the narrative with plausible characters with all their vulnerability, simple, realistic incidents and credible backdrops. Being a very low-budget venture, the cast was filled with new-comers. Vijay was the name of the young actor who essayed the role of Arumugam. Lavanya and Nanjil Nalini were perhaps the only known faces. Nimai Ghosh filled the frames with captivating shots of the relentless waves and the rustic beauty of a southern seaside hamlet. The screenplay was drafted shorn of frills, the dialogues simple and minimalistic, the tableaux realistic and natural….

Nimai Ghosh, who had elicited some compositions of eternal allure from M.B. Srinivasan for 'பாதை தெரியுது பார்’, sent for VB to compose the two songs that were envisaged for ‘விழிப்பு’. Being a low-budget venture, VB could not have the luxury of a full-fledged orchestra. While recalling her collaborations with VB, Vaniji once told me that VB could work with a spartan ensemble with equal ease as with a magnificent whole orchestra. We perceive the truth of Vaniji’s averment when listening to the two songs that VB composed for ‘விழிப்பு’. Even when employing minimal string, wind and percussion instruments, VB holds on to his melodic moorings and sails ashore triumphantly, with his trusted pair of singers.

The first is the lilting SPB- Vani duet ‘தங்கக்குடமெடுத்து’, written by KCS. Arunachalam. In a public library in Dubai one weekend afternoon, I chanced upon 'பாட்டு வராத குயில்’, a compilation of poems by KCS. Aruanchalam (1921-1999), and I was spellbound by the metaphors, the motifs, the matter, the meter employed by the poet, known for his leftist leanings. I sat immersed in the verdant vistas invoked by the verses; afternoon turned to evening and evening gave way to night; I was lost to my surroundings until the attendant called out that it was closing time. As I was returning home, I found myself humming ‘சிவந்த ரோஜா மலரை அணிந்து’ written by KCS Arunachalam for M.B. Srinivasan’s Madras Youth Choir. ‘பாடும் பறவைகளே’ was another MYC favourite penned by Arunachalam. As I had written earlier, how I wish Mao Tse-tung who declared with smug disdain ‘Communism has nothing to do with love', could have read the romantic verses of Turkish poet Comrade Nazim Hikmet or 'சின்னச்சின்ன மூக்குத்தியாம்' of Comrade KCS. Arunachalam!

Here, too, KCS Arunachalam’s lines are filled with delightful romantic banter between a fisherman and his lass, his idioms laced with the salt of the sea…. VB casts his austere net and hauls in a pearl that glistens in its very melodic simplicity. The song was picked up by Radio Ceylon and aired in the early 80s before being consigned to oblivion….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tls3kDKNzJ0&feature=youtu.be

The next is the brooding ‘மனிதனுக்காக மதமா’, written by M.A. Abbas. The tranquil existence of the people in the isle is sullied by the poison of communal divide…. Fanatics have stoked a spark to a roaring fire that threatens to destroy the society…. The stark lines of the song bemoan the malice and the hatred that is propagated on the grounds of religion; they look back wistfully at the time when there was friendship across faiths…. Serenaded by sober male chorus voices, a ruminative SPB pleads for tolerance, understanding, reason, compassion…..

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxcWakjBsic&feature=youtu.be

Made in 1979, ‘விழிப்பு’ could not find any takers. Finally, after ceaseless efforts, it was released in a few centers in 1981 under the name ‘சூறாவளி’. It was sent back to the cans almost at once. The TN Government conferred upon M.A. Abbas the ‘Best Writer’ Award in its Annual Film Honors for 1981. Vividh Bharathi chose to ignore the songs.

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2057580067607042/

Sunday, June 24, 2018

‘Aasai povathu vinnile’ from Naam Pirandha Mann

Saravanan Natarajan writes:

June 24 marks the birth anniversaries of two of the stateliest colossi of Tamil Cinema. Muse and Music were born on this day a year apart…. What better way to celebrate Kannadasan and MSV than to recall one of their myriad magnificent collaborations….And as always, we do not indulge in a superfluous search from the surface of this mighty ocean, we dwell deep into its recesses and lay our hands on a glistening pearl that lies in a forgotten crevice…..

‘Aasai povathu vinnile’ from Naam Pirandha Mann
Sung by S.P. Balsubramaniam
Lyrics by Kannadasan
Music by M.S. Viswanathan

* * * *

‘Have you seen ‘நாம் பிறந்த மண்?’ was Kamalhasan’s query to Shankar when the director first narrated the story of his ‘Indian’ to him. Hearing the gripping outline of an aged freedom-fighter who becomes the nemesis for his wayward son, Kamal must have been engulfed by a sense of déjà vu, for Shankar’s narrative bore startling similarities to ‘நாம் பிறந்த மண்’. Kamal’s thoughts must have raced back to more than two decades when ‘Vietnam Veedu’ Sundaram met him with the script and offered the upcoming actor the role of the rebellious, well-meaning son.

நாம் பிறந்த மண் (Vijaya Arts/ 7.10.1977) had Rajasekhar’s story being drafted into Sundaram’s riveting screenplay and dialogues. It was produced by ‘The Hindu’ S. Rangarajan. Rangarajan had earlier tasted success by producing ‘கெளரவம்’ (under the banner ‘Vietnam Movies’) with Sivaji Ganesan in the lead and with Sundaram as the director. This time around too, Sundaram was initially appointed as director, but cameraman A. Vincent took over the direction later on. The titles credit the screenplay to both Sundaram and Vincent.

The movie recounted the life and times of a fictitious revolutionary freedom fighter called Sandhana Thevan. The first half of the movie is filled with his daring exploits, how even while leading the blameless life of a respected village-head during the day, Thevan heads a clandestine band of brave youngsters who strike terror at the British bases in the night. Not even his wife and sister are aware of his dual life. Thevan has to suffer untold miseries when his identity becomes known- his sister is molested and left to die, and he gives himself up to the British at the tearful entreaty of his wife. Thevan is released from prison when India attains independence. He has now lost all his ancestral wealth, and his son Ranjit grows up to a life of scarcity and poverty. Ranjit is disheartened by the depths to which the family fortunes have sunk, and he longs to restore to his proud father and long-suffering mother all that they have lost. All his attempts to secure employment are in vain, and he resorts to crime as an easier means to wealth. But he has not accounted for the anger of his principled father, and events then move to a tragic climax.

If Sivaji Ganesan’s performance as Thevan leading a dual life was marked by majestic histrionics, his restrained underplay as the father who refuses to sacrifice his lofty principles was heartwarming. Kamal as the frustrated son brimmed with righteous fury and anguish. K.R. Vijaya played Thevar’s wife Deivanayagi, and hers was a dignified portrayal. Gemini Ganesh as another revolutionary Joseph, Nagesh as the faithful family retainer Thavasu, ‘Fadafat’ Jayalakshmi as Thevan’s sister Papa and Reena as the British Sergeant’s wife were all well cast in their respective roles.

* * * * *

The proceedings were punctuated with several interesting twists and some emotional highpoints- the playful banter between Deivanayagi and Papa accentuating the deep affection they have for each other, the young revolutionary Viswanathan venturing out on a valiant mission on the night of his wedding and killing himself after shooting the British collector at Maniachi Junction, Deivanayagi nursing the British child who is down with chicken-pox and proclaiming the oneness of Mary and Maari, the amazement of Joseph when he discovers that Sandhana Thevan is none other than his employer ‘Vettaikkaara’ Thevan, the daring encounter that James and Thevan have with the British troops in the still of the night and their seeking sanctuary in a church, all the men in the village sporting bandages in their legs to foil the attempts of the British when they try to trace Sandhana Thevan through his wounded leg, the moving episode where Thevan escapes from police to attend the funeral of Joesph’s mother, Thevan rescuing the British commander from a pit into which they had fallen together, the unblemished loyalty of Thavasu even when Thevan has fallen upon bad times, the arresting arguments between the principled father and practical son with the anguished mother playing the eternal arbitrator, the moving scene where Thevan and Joesph meet after many years, the undisguised pride in Thevan’s eyes when Ranjit buys back their ancestral house and presents it to his parents, and how the same eyes fill with tears of shame and rage when he learns the secret of his son’s sudden affluence, the inexorable end…. The movie was also well made technically with Vincent’s cinematography and Mohana’s art direction presenting with pulsating life the ambiance of a feudal village down south in pre-independence India.

Despite everything going for it, நாம் பிறந்த மண் was a commercial failure. Perhaps the public were tired of another Sivaji movie having a father-son tussle, or it could be that the image of Chappani (16 வயதினிலே was released a few weeks earlier, on 15 September 1977) had the public in a trance which they were not willing to come out of.

* * * * *

But knowledge to their eyes her ample page
rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,
and froze the genial current of the soul…

- Thomas Gray (Elegy in a Country Churchyard)

The proud Thevar remains proud and principled, while the Thevar magan languishes in abject penury. He has grown up listening to tales of the fabulous wealth that was once theirs, the acres of land that yielded bountiful harvest year after year, the huge amounts that his father gave away in charity, the thousands of people who were fed by his family during temple festivities…. But all he has known first-hand is poverty and deprivation. He is not educated, not because he was a dunce, it was because his impoverished father could not afford to educate him. Much like the children of poor families whom Thomas Gray alludes to in the above verse, knowledge to our man’s eyes did never unroll. As a result, this illiterate youngster is unable to find a job. And when he does get a job in a wine shop, his enraged father comes to know and puts an end to that soon enough…. What does he do…he cannot bear to see his long-suffering mother scrimp and scrounge and starve herself even while trying to feed her husband and son… he cannot bear to see youngsters of his age enjoying life when he is stricken by perennial poverty… How true was the sagacious old woman when she observed ‘கொடிது கொடிது வறுமை கொடிது, அதனினும் கொடிது இளமையில் வறுமை!’

Frustrations galore… he lands a job as a crooner in a hotel… develops dubious contacts from there…. gets trapped in a vortex of crime that fetches him the riches that he has always longed for…He despises himself for what he has become, his inner conscience and his principled upbringing gnaw him to penitence, yet he stifles the alarm bells, justifying crime as a necessary evil… His is a brooding, introspective lot that evening… the usual revelers gather in the hotel, but he is lost in the labyrinth of his wretchedness…. And so he narrates his travails in a song that he croons....

ஆசை போவது விண்ணிலே
கால்கள் போவது மண்ணிலே
பாலம் போடுங்கள் யாராவது
பாடி ஆடுங்கள் இன்றாவது....

In the prelude to the song, Vincent employs some imaginative touches that capture the above philosophical lines of the bard… the first shot shows Kamal walking on the road (கால்கள் போவது மண்ணிலே), the next one shows an airplane in the sky (ஆசை போவது விண்ணிலே), and then…there are montage shots showing him meeting shifty men, receiving mysterious consignments (பாலம் போடுங்கள் யாராவது)…The scene then shifts to the interiors of the hotel where Kamal sings, a girl sways to his song, the bacchanalian audience intent on their own pleasures indifferent to the angst that peeps through his lines (பாடி ஆடுங்கள் இன்றாவது)….

And as his wont, Kannadasan lets his lines reflect the inner turmoil of the character… And the thoughts of the great writers of the world creep unintentionally into his poetic lines… Oliver Goldsmith’s ‘The nakedness of the indigent world may be clothed from the trimmings of the vain’ finds new meaning in ‘கட்டிடம் ஜொலிக்கிறது, அஸ்திவாரம் அழுகிறது.’ Ella Wheeler Wilcox would have discovered a kindred soul in Kannadasan had she happened to hear ‘யாரும் சிந்தட்டும் கண்ணீரை, நீங்கள் தெளியுங்கள் பன்னீரை’, for the line is a sardonic leaf out of her own ‘Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone…’ And had John Milton who wrote ‘These evils I deserve, and more…Justly, yet despair not of His final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and His eye gracious to re-admit the suppliant’ and Alexander Pope who declared ‘To err is human, to forgive divine’ lived in the time of our bard, they would have doubtless saluted the heart and shook the hand that interpreted the same thoughts so eloquently in

தெய்வம் சில நேரம் சிந்திக்கும்
மண்ணில் பல பேரை மன்னிக்கும்
இந்த மன்றத்தில் ஆடுங்கள்...
அந்த மன்னிப்பைக் கோருங்கள்....
இறைவா.....
என்னை மன்னித்துவிடு......

As for MSV, he must have been delighted to obtain this philosophical soliloquy from the bard, and he sets it to a simple tune that brings to the fore the somber undercurrent of the lines. It is a stylish composition of the master wherein the first four lines of the charanam are but a variation of the pallavi’s tune. The first three charanams close with didactic reflections, while the last charanam ends with a desperate cry to the Lord for forgiveness. In perfect congruence with the plush interiors of the opulent hotel, MSV employs the guitar, drums and trumpets to tantalizing effect. There are four charanams, and alternate interludes are similar. The second and fourth interlude open with the bells that jingle in the glittering sequins of the danseuse’s dress, and as the singer’s thoughts fly to his mother amidst her domestic drudgery, MSV’s violins wail in empathetic anguish...

The sharpest weapon in MSV’s arsenal though, is SPB. How fetchingly does he portray the misery of the on-screen singer… Listen to the cynical chortle in ‘இன்பங்கள் தூங்குவதில்லை.....துன்பங்களும் அப்படித்தான்’ and the hushed sob in the final plea, ‘இறைவா.....என்னை மன்னித்துவிடு!’ Frustration, anger, guilt, rationalization, resignation, and prayer… all delivered with operatic flourish parade in mesmerizing succession in SPB’s song…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEAAUcOkZ74

Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2047444261953956/