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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.

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